#In this house we actively ignore cannon and that’s just the way it is

[gofancyninjaworld]

just peopling

I don't think Murata knows what he does for me when he draws characters showing their more unguarded, vulnerable moments. And I don't mean when they're undergoing a profound emotional experience. Just the mundane, everyday activities.

It's not easy to depict mundanity in a story: real estate is precious, and Everything Has To Mean Something. So Murata finding space both within and around the chapters to ground the characters as people despite their abilities is precious.

Something that comes to mind is Scott McCloud's comment in his excellent book 'Understanding Comics', where he notes that depicting a superhero going to the bathroom is funny as we don't see these characters as human and it breaks our immersion. In One-Punch Man, the characters may be incredible and in a fantastic setting, but ONE and Murata have pulled off their also being so human there's nothing remarkable about them eating, sleeping, going to the bathroom, or having a recycling schedule on the wall. It's not easy to do.

ONE does get mileage out of making superhumans doing ordinary things hilarious, but he does it by making the context funny. Sure, Sonic on the shitter is funny, but it's not funny because he's an impossible ninja having a shit as if he were human. We accept his humanity. It's why he's crapping his guts out that's hilarious: there's both the schadenfreude of seeing him hoisted by his own petard and the relief that because he's screwed up, he will stay human. Sure, Genos using his arm cannon to dry the dishes is funny, but not because he's a combat cyborg that probably costs the same as a fighter jet. He and Saitama ate. Of course the dishes need doing. It's that he's abusing a million-dollar piece of equipment to do something ordinary that's hilarious -- like an engineer abusing a high-powered laser to heat coffee [1].

Often, the context isn't funny for the sake of being funny. Genos cleaning the house? Not funny. Genos ignoring the sounds of battle outside because he can't bring himself to leave the house until he's cleaned up all traces of the previous night's party? Hilarious. However, it's not just funny: it's the setup for us seeing later the pots and bowls set out as the apartment is destroyed, all ready to start dinner as soon as Saitama comes back. He's prepared for a meal that neither will ever eat. We carry out our routines as if life will never change, even though we're aware it can be cut short at any time and in ways we cannot anticipate, and no amount of power or privilege changes that. In the meantime, we live.

Why do they go so far as to humanize the characters? Other than it being nice to see, it also allows the story to land points that otherwise couldn't work. Points such as everything takes time, effort, and attention and no one can do everything, but must needs choose, and these choices have consequences. That we need others to be human. That even the best relationships take work. That fulfilling yourself as a human being is a work in progress. That the idea of there being a 'thing' or 'state' that will make one happy is nonsense. That we can go too far. That we don't deserve second chances, but no one's counting.

Being human is complicated and frustrating and boring but oh so worth it. That's a big point that ONE wants to get across. And he can't do that if the very idea of a character needing the bathroom is hilarious.

[1] Obligatory health warning: do not fuck with lasers. A laser capable of warming your coffee in a useful time is both invisible and more likely to set you on fire than give you a warm beverage.

[paintedvanilla]

hey!! i would love to hear some of your head cannons for your ‘every man you’re every been’ fic because i am literally obsessed with their dynamic as a domestic couple who still struggle to express their emotions still.

i love you writing so much btw, you are fuelling my fight club obsession in the best way possible!!

Punching the air thank you SO MUCH for asking I am OBSESSED with their dynamic in this au

Me and manar were literally talking about this last night about the balance of domestication between the two of them, and we agreed that like. Tyler absolutely undomesticated the narrator in a sense, but the narrator also has a little bit of a counter balance effect on Tyler? He domesticates him slightly. They eventually reach an equilibrium. And maybe one day they’ll even get a bed frame who knows. Probably not.

Anyway this is corny of me but I took the love languages test for both of them and the results were actually very fascinating. Gift giving didn’t place for either of them so I’m completely ignoring it here. Both of them scored physical touch as their second place and quality time as their third place, but interestingly their first and last places were flipped. The narrator has words of affirmation as his first place, Tyler has it as his last. Tyler has acts of service as his first place, the narrator has it as his last.

I think this affects their dynamic very much as seen in “every man you’ve ever been” when Tyler says I love you to the narrator for the first time after they’ve been together for seven years. Which is an absurd amount of time to wait to say such a thing. But the thing is from Tyler’s perspective that’s not the first time he’s said it. Every little thing he does for the narrator is meant to be a declaration of love. But the narrator doesn’t necessarily interpret them like this because Tyler has never laid a foundation for what he’s trying to communicate with his actions. He just does things and expects the narrator to understand what they mean. He thinks it should be unspoken. And the narrator cannot function like that. The narrator doubts himself and the way Tyler perceives him constantly, and Tyler’s unwillingness to communicate how he’s feeling Does Not help. I think this causes a lot of issues in their relationship. They’ll figure it out eventually but it is a touchy subject for both of them.

Additionally how they met and get together in this au is something I’ve kind of referenced but I really want to eventually write a full on fic for. The way I’m writing it, Tyler and the narrator briefly meet on a nude beach in florida, Tyler immediately becomes obsessed with him and follows him home, stalks him for 18 months and then blows up his condo. The plot proceeds as it does in the movie, the narrator calls him after meeting him on the plane, they get a drink, they fight, they both really enjoy the fight (it awakens many things in both of them), they go back to the paper street house, the narrator starts living there, the encounter with Marla takes place, she and Tyler start sleeping together, the narrator wants to kill himself, yadda yadda yadda

Throughout all this tho the narrator is dealing with a whole identity crisis because prior to meeting Tyler the narrator had noooo idea he was into men. Like it never once occurred to him. He just thought he had the worlds lowest sex drive and was coincidentally not attracted to any woman he had ever laid eyes on. Then he meets Tyler and he’s already like Jesus Christ why does he look like that and why does it make me feel things. And then they have their little fist fight and oohhhhh god does it awaken things in the narrator. He thinks of little else. He’s agonizing and obsessing over this man and unaware that Tyler is just as obsessed with him.

Anyway, Tyler won’t make a move because he can tell the narrator is so incredibly repressed and is actively fighting against any impulse to do something about how he feels, so he waits until the narrator fucking snaps and then the two of them are all over each other, literally inseparable. Tyler tells the narrator about the whole stalking situation and the narrator is a little freak who thinks that’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life, like, genuinely gets way too excited about it. And now the two of them are practically sewn together and cannot be pried apart. Bonded pair do not separate.

Other miscellaneous headcanons:

the narrator cannot swim

Tyler kisses the little mole on the narrators chin

the two of them have never and will never utter the word “cuddle” it’s always “laying down”

Tyler is the fucking miracle cure for the narrators insomnia. When they’re in bed together, the narrator can sleep. When they fight, Tyler uses this against him and will purposefully make sure he can’t sleep for days at a time.

The narrator cannot remember dates for the fucking life of him. He’s great at math, can calculate tip and tax in his head, has a fuck ton of formulas memorized for work, but cannot remember dates

He also frequently loses track of what day it is. He never knows the date.

By the time Tyler and the narrator have been together 7 years the narrator has only remembered two of his birthdays within that time. The others passed without him noticing. He has to do math with the year he was born to remember how old he is.

Tyler on the other hand remembers all dates, always, the instant he’s been told them. He always remembers the narrators birthday, their anniversary, and Valentine’s Day, among other important dates in his head

The narrator still has to sing the months of the year song they teach to you in kindergarten in his head to remember the order of the months

The narrator is autistic. I am an autistic narrator truther. He does not know this about himself nor will he ever know this about himself. He just thinks he’s a little quirky

The narrator is scared of driving and being a passenger in cars. He has his license but never wants to drive

The narrator wishes he’d studied something like English literature in college instead of finance

Tyler learned how to make soap from his mom

Tyler makes the narrator come to work with him at the theater sometimes because he cannot stand being apart from that man

That’s all I can think of at the moment I hope this suffices. Thank you for your kind words I’m going to explode. <333

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

coming after witch eclipse's ass nyeheheh >:3

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

What animal do they fear most?

What is their favorite number?

What embarrasses them?

*rubs my lil hands together and cackles*

1.) Maybe a minute at most. He's a very busy guy and is constantly moving around, prepping spells or leafing through old documents or researching about the pendant or conducting experiments;he doesn't have time for any recreational activities, he always has something to do, and if he doesn't then he'll make something up to occupy himself with. He can't sit with himself for very long before thoughts start to settle in and he vehemently refuses to sort through them-most of them are about KC and Eclipse's own creation and...well, let's just say there's a little apprehension in questioning oneself. This constant behavior often results in him forgetting to charge and managing by some miracle to plug in at the last second-he also doesn't eat (not that he needs to, but it does help with energy levels) and has a very large caffeine addiction, which feeds into his non-stop movement.

2.) Anything relating to his past life before KC disappeared. If it weren't for the fact that he doesn't have anywhere else to go (plus a secret fear of officially losing everything and an almost non-existent hope that KC might return), he would have burned down the house and left a long time ago. He keeps KC's room locked at all times, grabbed all the pictures and slammed them into the drawer, and basically took everything he'd owned and hid it-out of sight, out of mind. The only thing he keeps are KC's old documents about the pendant-for his research, of course (and because KC writes in a way very similar to how he speaks-thoughtful, neat, concise-Eclipse hasn't heard from him in some time.). Well, those and KC's clothes-Eclipse had outgrown his old shirts after a while and they were just sitting there, so he might as well. He does his best to ignore the stuffy smell of pine needles and charcoal, but it's still there.

3.) Snakes-after the...incident, with one of his experiments on a pendant, he developed a fear of them-but that's probably a normal reaction to finding one in your sink, your dresser, your mattress, and your favorite coffee cup. It's not a terribly large fear, however-he'll freeze for a second and then fumble around for his lazer cannons and turn the thing into mere molecules, same as any other animal. As long as it's not in his space, he doesn't really care. Most of his fears aren't animal related, anyhow.

Edit: I’ve decided he’s also a little nervous about ravens-they’re often seen as a bad omen (at least in my culture, though I never really cared cuz corvids are adorable) and he always feels a little on edge when they circle the house. Lunar likes them, though.

4.) Had to sit and think about this for a while because I don't think he'd really have a favorite, but it'd probably be 13-they used to joke that that was the number of words KC spoke a day. It's also how old he was when he cast his first spell, though that memory is somewhat soured by the aftermath.

5.) (I see what you're doing here, ehehe)

If we're talking general embarrassment or mortification-baby pictures or things from when he was younger. KC never had anyone to share his stories of Eclipse with and no one was there but him and Eclipse himself, who only remembers some of them, but this guy would actually crawl into a hole and die if his childhood was brought up. He was a very bright child, KC remembers, very chipper and carefree and different from the Eclipse we have now. Eclipse looks upon his past self with a sort of bitter scorn and envy: he was weak back then, didn't know what the world really was, easy to manipulate and easier to hurt...but he also knows that he was happier back then in spite of all of that, back when life was simpler. He tries not to dwell on the past too often-it's gone and no amount of remembrance will change anything now.

...Assuming you're close enough to him that his reaction to whatever it is isn't unbridled rage and several death threats that aren't entirely impossible to enact, working with him or doing little favors makes his non-existent heart burn: arranging his papers for him, making him a cup of coffee, ironing out a shirt, volunteering as a bouncing board for his ideas, things like that. You won't get a thank you, if that's what you're looking for-if anything, he'll probably be very gruff about it, shooing you away to mask the increasing temperature of his casing and the steam coming out of his fans. And if you're confident enough to tell him outright what you think of him (assuming it's all good things), he'll bluescreen for a good 10 seconds before stammering out an insult and running back to the safety of his workplace-where he'll get nothing done and stew in his thoughts for a good 3 hours.

[honoviadakai]

Russia and his big and little sisters

This is sort of a continuation of this post because I’m having Hetalia brain rot rn so why not share the spoils?

In my last post I explained my theory that General winter could potentially be the spirit of the deceased father of the Slavic Siblings (Ukraine, Russia and Belarus), I also stated that he might be latched onto Ivan specifically for one of 2 reasons.

Reason number one is basically the idea that because he is dead and Ivan is the only boy in the family, he is now the “man of the house” and has to become stronger as soon as possible to be able to protect his family. Therefore, attaching himself to Ivan would serve as a way to both protect his children even in death but also it would just help Ivan, the son he sees a lot of potential in, grow stronger very quickly.

Reason number two however is slightly different. Attaching himself to Ivan would still be General Winter’s way of protecting his kids, that part does not change. What does change is how General Winter views Ivan. General Winter would see Ivan as the weakest link and attach himself to his young son during his early childhood because he needs his protection and guidance far more than his sisters do.

I personally believe that between the 3 siblings, Russia was indeed the weakest sibling and even in modern day, still is.

I’m aware that in hetalia’s cannon Ukraine is a major crybaby/pushover, Russia can destroy tanks with his bare hands and eat thumbtacks without batting an eye and that Belarus is really tiny when compared to her siblings and relies on them(most Russia) for everything. So by that logic, Russia’s the stronger sibling, right?

Not really. We see more of Russia’s fighting abilities because his one of the main 8 characters of the series and consequentially, his sisters aren’t featured as much as he is. However, a lot of times they are featured, Russia seems to be very cautious around them and they seem to baby him a lot, especially when they were younger.

When the siblings are younger, an interesting thing I noticed is that of the 3, Ivan is the one that is almost always anxiously looking out for other attacking nations while his sisters seem almost completely unbothered by the presence of the other nations living around them. While Young Russia is running away from and dealing with stronger nations like Mongolia, Sweden, Denmark and the Teutonic knights. Ukraine and Belarus on the other hand are either doing chores and foraging/hunting or even fooling around and making snow boobies.

Even while the other nations are trying to conquer Russia, they aren’t actively trying to attack his sisters even if it might be a tactical advantage for them to try and take over all 3 siblings. They clearly aren’t solely focusing on Russia because we see Lithuania becoming a target too. Even Russia was trying to recruit him to his side because Lithuania(at the time) was stronger than than he was.

When Russia is sulking over being rejected by a hamster, Prussia comes to their home, fully intending to fight him, but once Ukraine tells him to come back some other time he doesn’t get confrontational with her. Of course he gets pouty but he makes no attempt to challenge her in any way shape or form. He just says “oh that sucks” and leaves their home and everyone who lives there alone, all because Ukraine told him very nicely to leave. Had Russia been the one to tell him to leave I have no doubts he’d not only ignore him but he’d rudely barge in and degrade him the entire time.

In modern day they the only people on the planet that make Ivan, a 6’10 global powerhouse, nervous. All throughout their interactions in the anime manga and even in drama CDs, Ivan is doing everything in his power not to upset his sisters and even gets very scared at any indications that their mood is souring. Most of it could be that he’s trying to avoid Natalya’s incestuous advances without angering her, and that is true, but keep in mind the girl essentially yeeted a doorknob off a door because she was upset it was keeping her and her brother apart. Clearly strength is genetic in this family so I fully believe Irunya is capable of wrecking Ivan’s shit and Ivan is fully aware of this fact.

I think Irunya is a bit of a crybaby as a facade. Ivan smiles a lot to look friendly to others, so they both try to manipulate how people view them, Irunya is just better at executing this tactic. She wants to come across as friendly to others and if she has to act like a ditzy farm girl that’s easily brought to tears, she’s fine with that because it gets people to invite her to events, it gets her to make friends. She is the oldest child and had to take care of her siblings for their entire childhood. She’s fought through and survived many hard battles. She’s probably at a point where she just wants to live in peace and will do anything to hold onto that peace. Fighting will be the last thing she does but I feel once she reaches that point, the gauntlets will come off, mercy is no longer an option with her at that point.

Natalya on the other hand very clearly has fighting spirit and skill, but I feel like she holds back a lot so her brother can come across as the stronger, superior fighter. She doesn’t care about making friends but she cares a lot about how her brother feels and how people see him so she’s more than willing to look like a weakling in comparison to him and maybe even take a few punches from him if needed. Ivan may be capable of tearing through metal like it’s paper but Natalya just seems faster, she looks like she could run from across a football stadium, in heels, in under 30 seconds. Ivan may pack a harder punch than his baby sister but he could not punch her both because he loves her and because I just don’t think he’s fast enough to even touch her if he really tied to attack her. As long as she can stay by Ivan’s side she’s relatively peaceful but if Ivan ever flat out tells her to leave him alone, she will stop holding back.

Ivan has known his sisters his whole life so he knows how to navigate around their feelings. That does not save him from being occasionally reminded that they are both capable of ripping his spine out of his body and shoving it down his throat as a warning. The girls allow their brother to carry the title of one of the worlds strongest nations purely because they love him so much, but if they ever become cross with him they have no reservations about reminding him that they’re still capable of kicking his ass and Ivan lives in constant fear of angering his sisters.

As much as he loves his sisters, he knows just how terrifying they can be and strives to be just as strong if not stronger than his family.

[greyslimo]

Post haste flash cards

They also might want to keep in mind that if Canute had stopped to send postcards, they would have ended up soaking wet. Times and methods of communication move on, the Cumbrian people should remember. Monkeys appear in your house His fangs are sharp, he likes your taste Your party better move post haste Lion They grow much faster than bamboo Take care or theyll come after you Poisonous plants that shoot poisonous barbs Hunter from the darkest wild Makes you feel just like a child. Can you imagine people, especially the younger ones, putting aside their mobile phones and laptops to traipse around the souvenir shops to buy postcards, searching for stamps and writing out "weather is lovely/awful" messages before sending them off to arrive at their destinations after the holidaymakers return home? He adds: "Postcards are much more personal to the recipient and can often become a cherished keepsake so let us embrace this institution and make 2010 the year of the Great British Postcard." It strikes me that people with largish writing would not be able to get that many characters on the back of a postcard anyway, but that is just a passing thought. Like if summoning a creature normally requires 15 seconds of "creation" time, a flash creature only requires 5-7 seconds of "creation" time, minimizing the thought-prep need to cast it, however the power needed to "summon" the creature is greater(requires greater amounts of mana-bonds to lands) than a similar creature without flash.Īs stated before this is just my ideas and the above keywords can suit MANY different view about itself.Its chief executive argues that the Lake District landscape is inspirational and he wants visitors to take the time to stop and think about their surroundings instead of abbreviating their experiences into 140 characters or less. Head cannon for Flash: The summoning spell is formatted is a way that allows the summoning occur with less preparation. Head cannon for Haste: The creature that you summoned is either thickheaded, naturally violent, or strong-willed enough to overcome the effects of suddenly appearing somewhere different. While Flash allows the creature to ignore the timing requirement for casting(Only when the stack is clear, first and second main phase on your turn) (YMMV)įirst what the keyword do for the cards: Haste allows the creature to attack/activate abilities that require tapping on the turn its played. As always this is only my thoughts and others may have differing views. These abilities trigger from whatever zone the card winds up in after its. Taking your time and being careful is usually better in the long run. POST (Power-On Self-Test): When power is turned on, POST (Power-On Self-Test) is the diagnostic testing sequence that a computers basic input/output system (or 'starting program') runs to determine if the computer keyboard, random access memory, disk drives, and other hardware are working correctly. Haste makes waste is an old saying that means if you hurry and do something too quickly, you’re likely to make mistakes or not do a good job. STRONG ENOUGH TO CARRY A MAN, FAST ENOUGH TO DO WHATEVER HIS PLANS ARE FOR THE DAY, YOU'RE THE SORT THATS WILLING TO HELP DO AT LEAST SOME STUFF FOR THE PEOPLE AROUND HERE. No idea on the flavor article for keywords, but will attempt to explain my own head cannon as a player of 4+ years. 702.10d Multiple instances of haste on the same creature are redundant. We will read about Haste Makes Waste in this post. FOR SOME REASON, YOU ARE BOTH EXTREMELY STRONG (PROVEN) AND EXTREMELY FAST (STILL SORT OF UP IN THE AIR).

[thegooddoctorheadcanonsarchive]

Halloween, and the residents decided that since they couldn’t dress up like monsters or vampires, they’d dress up like the next best thing. Something that would actually be allowed at work. And at first, Melendez didn’t get it. They just showed up in suits— dressed to the nines, but nothing technically out of the ordinary for doctors.

But then he got it. And it didn’t take too long.

He had a suspicion when Jared snapped at Claire while she was talking to Shaun, doling out an irritated: “We don’t have time to waste gossiping all day.”

He nearly got it when Claire explained to Shaun, “No, I’m right and you’re wrong. So listen.”

But he definitely got it when Shaun said very plainly to Claire when she suggested getting lunch: “I don’t agree with that idea, and you should feel bad for announcing it in the first place. ...Even though it’s a very good idea.”

“Are you guys seriously doing this?” he finally burst. Jared and Claire cracked a smile. “It’s unprofessional, stop it,” he snapped. “I don’t need my residents making fun of me all day.”

“Yeah, Claire, stop,” Jared commanded, and she snorted. “We need to focus.”

“Jared!” Melendez yelled. “Stop.”

“You, me, and Andrews are going to have a talk after this,” Claire announced.

“Claire!”

“I won’t stand for insubordination!”

“Jared!”

They all started yelling at each other, a mess of irritated yells by Melendez and barely-held-back laughter from Jared and Claire, further impressions being sqwauked over his orders to stop. Shaun was mostly taking a backseat to the argument, ever the pacifist, until he jerked into the middle of everyone, waving his hands and shouting: “You’re all going on scutwork!”

Melendez just groaned and hit his head against the wall.

[whirlybirbs]

          (  this chapter’s gif by @ransomflanagan​ from this beautiful set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  5/?

summary: your plan goes to asbolute shit.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 9k, please pray for my fingers

a/n: there’s action, there’s gunshot wounds, there’s canon appropriate violence! this one has a lot of plot, a lot of action, and i truly want to sleep for seven days after writing this. you should listen to the glass cannon’s club playlist while you read, though, for vibez.

       (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST   |   NEXT  )

You do have a plan.

Maybe it’s a little vague, a little messy, and a little up-in-the-air, but it’s a plan.

Get in, find Kiwi, avoid a handful of unsavory characters, and access the Alexandria Library.

Getting the hell out The Glass Cannon once you and Bucky were in was going to be a whole different plan entirely — one that was more improv than anything else. Hopefully, running a quick facial recognition program wouldn’t take long. With any luck, it would get a hit on any more recent aliases Innessa Sidrova was using after parsing the motherload of information Kiwi held onto with her life.

Kiwi wasn’t always known as Kiwi. She worked at SHIELD, like you, and back then she was known as Suji Awal. She stuck around longer — and she’d stayed on board during the active collapse to do heaven-sent work. It was an absolute Hail Mary, but while HYDRA had tried to purge all of SHIELD’s cloud data to protect their active agents and decades of progress, Suji had beat the hare in the race. Two steps ahead, she’d managed to pull nearly 97% of all confidential data including mission reports, agent profiles, and even electronic correspondence. While the metaphorical fire burned the documents behind her, she’d managed to salvage one of the only surviving, comprehensive looks at SHIELD before the curtain was pulled back to reveal HYDRA’s infection.

It had been used to try multiple HYDRA agents in the wake of it all in the federal courts. It was significant evidence, but after nearly all was reaped from the crop, Suji had taken the aptly named Alexandria Library and gone underground. Now, Kiwi was just another hacker in the thick of it and the Alexandria files were all but whispers.

It’s all about knowing the right people in the end.

Kiwi was a regular at The Glass Cannon. There was a nine out of ten chance you’d find her there. And if you didn’t find Kiwi, you’d probably find Climber and… Well, going to him wasn’t the most ideal situation, but out of the menagerie of acquaintances you’d gathered up throughout the years, you could trust Climber. He’d send you Kiwi’s way if you finally called in that favor he owed you. Either way, you’d find her and you’d get the files.

You just needed to avoid Alexei Gardzov.

Easy. Ish.

In truth, you barely get anything done Thursday — you’re too preoccupied in your head, running over the so-called plan even now as you fold laundry in the basement of your apartment complex.

You’d dug around in your closet, trying to find some semblance of an outfit. It was difficult. It wasn’t like the barely-there dresses and platform shoes were your thing anymore. Back then, your diet was mostly energy drinks and alcohol — in a way, it’s a relief to find that a good number of your staple outfits no longer fit. It made you feel like you really had put all this behind you.

You have.

Sure, it was the Rabbit you were going to have to be for tonight, but you’re not the Rabbit you were eight years ago. Good thing, too. You’re not too sure you and Bucky would have gotten along otherwise. Right now, your relationship with him was the biggest thing keeping you afloat — for the first time in a long time, you feel like you have some sort of purpose, even if it was a vague one at best.

You knew Innessa Sidrova was a threat — and you knew Bucky had to remedy that threat. You knew he felt responsible for creating her, for planting her in a position of power where she could manipulate and control. In truth, there was still a lot of vagueness surrounding his past. He’d made it clear he hasn’t been himself for a long time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wade through the muck of his trauma to pluck out your answers. It just felt wrong.

If you were to say you hadn’t been tempted to go out on your own and dig, that’d be a lie.

Even now, as you pull out the ink-black top from the dryer and fold it neatly on top of the other pieces of laundry needed for tonight, you can feel it sparking like a lighter in the back of your head.

He was keeping something from you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You nearly jump six feet in the air.

It’s Miss Bonnie — and she’s laughing when her feet touch the cold concrete of the unfinished floor. Her basket of laundry is balanced neatly on her hip, and she walks with a smirk on her face. Her hair is piled neatly on top of her head, and as she bends to plop the basket down, she offers a wink.

“I could hear you thinking from upstairs,” she ruminates, paisley and dyed skirts kissing the ground, “Like a little steam engine.”

You laugh quietly into your task. You duck your head and heft a black bra and jeans from the dryer. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She looks up, eyes moving carefully from the laundry pile to your face. Her eyes glimmer with quiet curiosity. “And a big night planned, huh?”

You snort. “What was the giveaway?”

“It’s always the lacey bras,” she chirps and slides a smirk your way as she waggles a finger at your pile, “And the strappy little bodysuit was a good hint, too.”

You exhale with a laugh, bracing a hand against the dryer. She’s not wrong — you’d really forgone comfort with this outfit lineup. It was temporary, though, and well worth the efforts if it meant helping Bucky tick off a name from his list of amends. You knew how much those meant to him.

“So,” she continues, voice muddled as she continues to load the washer, “I take it this friend of yours is really helping you out of your shell?”

“I guess so. Yeah. It’s — It’s sort of a mutual shell-cracking, I guess.”

“Mm,” a hum, “You sound troubled, though.”

Your mouth opens as your fingers trace the line of the bodysuit. You pause, and you rock back on your heels. Miss Bonnie notices.

She waits patiently, bent at the knees.

“You ever just…” you wave your hand, “Feel like — I don’t know. He’s my friend. My best friend, honestly, and that’s… Really saying a lot. But, there’s stuff under the surface and I know it’s not my business but…”

Out comes a strangled groan.

“What? Like a crazy ex-girlfriend?”

“No, no — I don’t think so,” you mutter, “Wouldn’t surprise me, though.”

“Handsome?” she asks, smiling.

You close your eyes and ignore the smile on your face as you reply. “Yea, handsome.”

“Well, have you tried asking?” she shrugs as she stands, “Not about the crazy ex, but about the stuff you’re worried about? It never hurts.”

“Problem is, I don’t really think it’s too much of my business.”

Miss Bonnie hums at that and presses the start on her washer. She’s quiet for a bit, swaying slightly as she weighs the conversation and you watch — enamored with the older woman’s calm wisdom. She gestures openly with ringed hands.

“I think it’s normal for us to want to know everything about those we care about,” she says, “We want to know how we can protect them, how we can comfort them. But… it comes in due time. All of it does. You’ll find a time when he does open up about the ex, or whatever it is on his mind. You’re friends, after all.”

You’re nodding, chest tight with thanks.

Miss Bonnie’s face is soft.

“You got a picture?” she chirps like a bird looking for a worm, “I wanna see who this little friend is. And if he really is as handsome as you’re suggesting...”

You scoff and lean to dig out your phone.

“Cut it out,” you mumble as she moves closer, “No playing matchmaker.”

“Sure, sure,” she waves, leaning to watch as you scroll through your camera roll.

The only photo you have of Bucky is there from Tuesday night — after he’d housed nearly an entire container of noodles and promptly passed out during the third Lord of the Rings movie. You’d woken up around one in the morning to find that Poke had unceremoniously curled up on top of the supersoldier’s chest. Bucky’s hand was still in the calico’s fur as he dozed, the colors of the TV painting his face all sorts of peaceful. You’d taken the photo, shoving it in his face after gently nudging him awake.

He’s laughed.

You gesture to show Miss Bonnie.

Like ice, she freezes.

You notice a microexpression dart across her face, but it’s gone in an instant. You can’t pin it, but the way she bends to pull the phone closer and zoom in on her face comes off as interest. You blink, label it as shock, and move on.

Her voice sounds different.

“Handsome,” she mumbles plainly, preoccupied with the sight, “I get it now. What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” you say as she hands the phone back, “He’s… He’s a good person.”

Miss Bonnie just nods.

You tuck your phone away and plop your laundry into your basket. Ignoring the sudden quiet that had crept between you both, you haul up the stack and offer her a gentle smile. She’s fiddling with the washer’s timer.

“Thank you, Miss Bonnie.”

“Of course,” she rushes out, smiling gently, “And be safe tonight.”

“I will.”

With your promise, you ascend the stairs.

In that basement, Bonnie McLayne is no more, and instead, Innessa Sidrova remembers that night in Moscow, back in 1975.

She remembers the Winter Soldier.

                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Bucky calls you three times with no answer.

Normally, he’d just give up — but it was Thursday, and you weren’t answering the buzzer to your apartment either. He tries his best to ignore the strike of panic that sparks in his chest. It could stoke a wildfire, really, but he pushes it down and remembers to breathe. He doesn’t let himself think about what he’d do if something happened to you.

After all, you’re probably fine. Sleeping, maybe. The both of you had a long night ahead.

(Longer than either of you realize, really.)

It’s nearly seven o’clock, and after trying your cell one more time from his perch on your apartment’s stoop, Bucky decides to say fuck it.

A well-adjusted person might frown upon what he was about to do, but Bucky wasn’t exactly well-adjusted, now was he?

He rounds the back alley with long strides and easily finds that, with a little maneuvering, he can hoist himself upwards on top of the nearest dumpster. With a well-timed hop, he can also snag the bottom of the fire escape’s ladder and haul it downwards. The rest is easy, and he’s scaling the fire escape to the third floor with ease before he even knows it.

There’s even a smug little smirk on his face the whole time he does.

Finding your window is a little harder, but Bucky eventually spots Poke’s round little body smushed against the glass — it’s a dead giveaway, and after some prowling, he finds the window to your living room and unceremoniously throws it open.

It’s unlocked, for whatever reason, and he makes a mental note to have a conversation with you about safety and security in the city. After all, you never knew when an ex-assassin supersoldier was going to break in and pet your cat.

Upon opening the window, he pieces together pretty quickly why you’re not answering. Could be the music coming from your bedroom, or even the singing that’s coupled alongside it. From the bathroom across the hall from your room, steam has settled above on the ceiling. The whole apartment smells like fruit and soap and perfume and Bucky’s not really sure how to parse through all the sensory experiences that greet him with he shimmies in through the window, legs first.

All in all, they make him smile.

Bucky shuts the window behind him as he’s quickly greeted by Poke — the calico offers a gratuitous little chirp when Bucky bends to scoop up the cat. Easily, he melts. Poke is purring loudly in his ear as Bucky takes a moment to survey your apartment a little bit closer. Mr. Poke Bowl rubs his face against Bucky’s stubble as the man weaves through the kitchen.

It’s very you.

He isn’t really sure what that means at the end of the day, but all he knows is that he feels at home here. He feels safe. He feels comfortable. He feels like he can be himself. Not James, not Sergeant Barnes, not The Winter Soldier. Not even Steve’s Bucky, but just… his Bucky. Himself. Sarcastic and exhausted and a little cynical.

Bucky lets Poke down on the counter and moves to the fridge.

There’s still beer from the other night in there, tucked in the back, so he makes easy work on popping open a bottle and busying himself with petting a very adamant Poke.

As he sips the Leinenkugel, it’s no small coincidence that his phone buzzes again — for what feels like the hundredth time today — with a message from Janelle.

She was nice — pretty, too. Once upon a time, she would have been his type.

That was before he met you, though.

There’s a little pinprick of mortification at that quiet confession that’s been slipping into his heart more and more in the last few days. You are, after all, his best friend. He’s your best friend. Guilt swims with the feelings that have begun to pluck his heartstrings and he has to admit he’s not too comfortable with the song they play.

His biggest fear is fucking this up.

Fucking you up.

Honestly, his track record isn’t great. The whole defrosted-international-threat bit made it a little difficult to date. Janelle seemed to think the date had gone well enough, though, hence the handful of texts he’d been getting every few hours asking if he’s free.

Like usual, he ignores them.

Exercising his own free will is hard sometimes. Especially when it comes to saying no.

Taking another swig of the beer, Bucky shoves his phone back into his pocket and tucks his fingers back into Poke’s fur. The calico’s tail swings patiently as he sits and watches — and it’s a little weird how human his eyes are for a second there. He mmrrps and lunges for Bucky’s hand when he comes close, bonking his head eagerly against the cool vibranium.

It’s a different sensation.

That’s another big adjustment — learning how things really feel with this new arm. It’s not just handling recoil or gripping knives or throwing punches. It’s the soft tickle of fur, the gentle pressure of a warm rag to clean the joints. Meticulous upkeep wasn’t something HYDRA did often. He doesn’t miss the twinge of pain and molasses-like stickiness that came with a dirty arm. Blood was the worst. Always sat deep in the cracks.

He flexes his fingers. Poke meows again.

He moves to plop down on the couch. Poke follows.

You’re singing, still, to some song that Bucky’s never heard, when you push open your bedroom door and move towards the living room.

You jump six feet in the air and scream when you see him just sitting there, clutching a beer and petting Poke like he fucking lives here rent-free.

Bucky’s reaction is muted, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with your outfit and your jewelry and the pink eye shadow that creeps up your brow-bone. There’s glitter on your eyelids and lip gloss on your mouth and he can smell some sort of candy-sweet perfume coming off you. The plunging neckline of the jet-black top is enough to leave him shifting his gaze back up to your startled expression with a tight jaw.

His face is blank.

Then he offers that stupid fucking smile he does. Y’know, the tight-lipped one where he somehow maintains a dead-eyed look the whole time. If you weren’t trying to calm your racing heartbeat, you might have laughed. You hate the white-hot flare it sparks in your chest.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” you hiss, waving your hands.

“We need to have a serious conversation about locking our windows,” he says as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table and wags a finger at you, “Also, what are you wearing?”

“You — You fucking broke in through my window?”

“Yea, well, you were too busy pretending to be Britney Spears to hear me try and buzz up, and my phone calls.”

Sheepishly, you cross your arms. “Nice reference—”

A shrug from Bucky. “Thank you.”

“—Also, what are you wearing?”

He looks down at his usual t-shirt, leather jacket combo. He squints back up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he chirps, “You’re talking to me? Did the department store run out of fabric, Rabbit?”

You self-consciously adjust the plunging neckline of the bodysuit as you frown deeply. “I think I’m gonna skip on the fashion advice from the man who lived in a time where ankles were seen as scandalous.”

“I was born in 1917,” he mumbles as he stands, actively avoiding another pass over your outfit because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad look on you, “Not 1817.”

“Point being, we’re going to a club. And you look like you’re going to the local Home Depot,” you move to snag a set of dangly earrings that are sitting on the coffee table, “We’ve gotta look like we’re there to party, nothing more.”

Bucky sighs. He finishes the beer, places the bottle down and sheds his jacket. “So, what?”

You pry your eyes away from the flash of skin — his arm, flesh and blood, speaks to how strong he is. And, undoubtedly how easy it was for him to fucking scale three stories of the fire escape to bust in.

“So,” you mumble as you thread the earring in, “I have some of Jaimie’s old shirts. There’s probably something you can use… If they fit.”

Bucky exhales softly. “You kept them?”

“Didn’t have the heart to throw them out,” you reply as you gesture for him to follow you into your bedroom.

The back of your top is arguably more crisis-inducing than the front — it’s an open back, and Bucky settles on admiring the decor rather than the curve of your spine. He has to. For his own fucking self-composure.

Your bedroom is nice — and like the rest of your space, it makes him feel comfortable. It’s all warm colors and posters and plants in the corners. Across from your queen-sized bed, there’s a large desk with a triple monitor setup. That’s where the music is coming from. The little knick-knacks on your shelves and desk make him chuckle.

Then, he stops, halfway to the closet, and stares.

You blink over your shoulder as you bend, digging to the back of your closet to pull out the clear bin you’d piled most of Jaimie’s stuff into after the funeral. After you’d cleaned out his apartment on your own.

He’s looking at the poster — the one from Cap’s USO tour. It’s framed nicely, set up on the wall beside your desk. It’s got a gold frame, and Bucky can’t help but wander closer to look at the signature.

It’s Steve’s alright.

“How much did you pay for this?”

You scoff. Your necklaces tinker together. “Don’t even go there.”

“The jerk signed thousands of these,” he mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans closer, “And still, the fame didn’t go to his head.”

You smile softly, leaning back.

“Jealous?” you chirp, raising your brows as you pretend to swoon, “Oh, Sergeant Barnes, I’d just love to meet your dear friend—”

Bucky’s laughing as you swat at his knee, leaning back on the carpet like a damsel in distress.

“Shut up,” he snorts, “It’s a sore subject for me.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m serious — do you know how many dates I had to set up for the chump? And then, boom. I’m invisible.”

“Yeah, well,” you mutter with a smile, unclicking the lid, “Some people just like blondes, Buck. I’m sure there were plenty of eyes on you. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Yea, the best friend, sure,” he mumbles at the poster, “Hell, he was taller than me. You know you don’t need to lie to me—”

“Listen, if I was some Lauren Bacall-looking nurse back then,” you wave your hands, “I’d have gone for you. Alright? Stop lamenting and get over here.”

He goes quiet and ignores the warmth in his cheeks. He squats by your side. “Shut up.”

“We seriously need to work on taking compliments,” you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m being serious, y’know, for once. And I’m not just saying it as your friend. You’re handsome and everyone knows it except you, apparently. My neighbor agrees that’s for sure.”

He squints.

You wave it off and gesture to your outfit. “She saw me doing laundry.”

“That explains nothing,” Bucky deadpans, “Literally nothing.”

“I showed her a picture,” you cry indignantly, moving to shuffle through some of the old t-shirts sitting on top of the bin, “Relax.”

He moves to plop down, crossing his legs beneath him. He decides to let the topic die — again, for his own self-composure more than anything. The compliment, though vehemently denied by the worst part of him, is tucked neatly in the homes of his heart. The idea of meeting you, before now, is a little intoxicating. What would it have been like?

Would you have even spared him a dance?

Bucky rubs his cheek. Poke meows and buts the door open with his head.

You’re wrist-deep in the bin when you speak. “He’s obsessed with you, y’know.”

Poke has already taken up a post in Bucky’s lap. Bucky smiles, petting Poke gently with his vibranium hand. The cat seems to like the cool metal. Bucky mumbles softly down to the calico, scritching his cheeks. “I like him, too.”

You pause long enough to try and remember the sight.

Bucky’s eyes find yours, and you’re quick to turn back to the bin.

“Here we go,” you exhale as you pull out the shirt you’d been looking for.

It’s a long-sleeve button-down, one that you can distinctly remember Jaimie wearing to his engagement party’s after-party — a real typical night of Jaimie being Jaimie. It’s black with a barely-there red floral pattern. It’s flashy enough that Bucky won’t look horribly out of place.

The only problem is Jaimie was a little smaller than Bucky.

“Try this on,” you mumble as you dig around trying to find something else in case it doesn’t do the trick.

Bucky catches the silk shirt and gives it a once over. He raises an eyebrow, and deciding against debating this, he simply nudges Poke off his lap and stands.

He moves to your bed, laying the shirt out. On your closet door is a full-length mirror. You want to snap it in half when you accidentally catch a glimpse of Bucky hauling off his black, cotton t-shirt and anxiously fumbling with the buttons on Jaimie’s old shirt. You have to breathe — and remind yourself that that’s Bucky.

Your Bucky. Your best friend Bucky.

When he calls your name, it sounds far away. You’re busy angrily sorting through old clothes.

“I look ridiculous.”

When you turn around, the first thing you notice is that it’s a little tight. Not in a bad way, but the buttons are gapping along his chest, and it’s tight around his arms.

Your eyes widen a little and you swallow. You tilt your head.

Bucky’s frowning.

“Let me see,” you offer gently, standing and moving close, “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t sound too sure right now,” he mumbles as you enter his personal space.

You’re nimble with undoing the top three buttons — it gives him enough room to move his shoulders, though, and the dip of the shirt along his sternum brings dog tags into view. You reach, momentarily entranced, and read them to yourself.

You smell like vanilla and sugar.

Bucky shifts in his boots.

“Y’know,” you say, moving to the sleeves, “I think this works.”

You roll the sleeves, stopping at his forearm.

When you step aside, Bucky can see himself in the full-length mirror. He looks less than enthused.

It’s not an entirely bad look — he’ll admit that much — but he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s too much chest and skin and… Christ, this shirt is tight. He does, though, look like some of those trendy folks he sees at Izzy’s bar every now and again. Hipsters.

“I look like a douchebag.”

“That’s the point,” you chirp as you close the box and shove it back into your closet, “Now the outfit matches the personality.”

He swats at your head on the way by. You laugh.

You’ve got boots in your hand, and you land on the bed with a bounce. Bucky is busy fixing his hair in the mirror while you zip up the thigh-high boots. When he turns around, you’re about three inches taller. He blinks, yet again entranced by the outfit.

Then, you’re muscling on the jacket.

It’s neon pink — and shaggy and cropped. It falls just above your waist and swallows you whole. But, Bucky’s attention is mostly on the back.

There’s a large, white embroidered Playboy bunny there, with RABBIT written across the shoulders in a chunky, blackletter typeface.

His brows are high on his face when you turn around.

You freeze.

“...What?” you ask, “Something on my face?”

“Playboy bunny, huh?”

You could smack him. “Weren’t you busy being a frozen dinner when Playboy came out?”

“I’ll have you know,” he says tightly as he follows you out of your bedroom and to the living room, “The Russians enjoyed their fair share of editions.”

“The Russians? Sure, what’s that saying? There’s no sex in the USSR?” you chide, “You can just say Bucky Barnesenjoyed his fair share—”

The tips of his ears are red. You notice. It makes you split into a grin that worsens the pink shade that’s crawling up his neck.

He coughs. “Have you ever considered never opening your mouth again, Rabbit?”

You nudge his arm. “Nah. Bothering you is more fun.”

He shrugs on his jacket, sighs, and decides that keeping quiet is just easier.

However, that’s not entirely your plan — and you speak quickly as you pull your purse over your shoulder. You’re rummaging quietly, stacking your wallet and phone inside. You glance up at him.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he mumbles, bending to pat Poke one last time as you move to the door of your bedroom. He watches you flick all the lights off, and before you leave, you double check the calico’s food and water. He’s got enough for a few days. Bucky leans against the door frame, “Care to run me through the plan?”

Nodding, you move to open your front door.

“It’ll be easy,” you explain as you make room for him, “If we play our cards right—”

Bucky’s stopped, though, and is digging in his back pocket as his cell phone rings. You watch him exhale tightly, eyes on the screen the entire time he squeezes by you and starts down the hall. You make careful note of the delicate scowl on his face, only before you catch Miss Bonnie out of the corner of her eye.

Her door is half-cracked across the hall, and she’s watching.

She offers you a smile.

Bucky keeps walking.

You wave, lock your door, and jog to catch up to Bucky.

“Hey,” you call, “Earth to Mr. Claw Machine?”

His head snaps up. “Sorry.”

“Who was that?” you ask carefully, nudging his arm with yours, “Falcon?”

“I wish,” he mutters as he muscles the cellphone back into his pocket, “I wouldn’t feel so bad sending him to voicemail.”

“Yeesh,” you wince, “Lemme guess, was it the owner of the coral lipstick that was all over your face on Tuesday night?”

Again, that temptation to feel jealousy flares up in your heart. But, he’s here, isn’t he? With you. Ignoring her calls. And probably texts judging by the guilty look that’s on his face. You feel a little bad — but at the same time, Bucky’s a grown man. Maybe a grown man who needs to create some more transparent lines of communication with the poor woman, but still.

“Bingo. I mean — it’s not that she wasn’t great an’ all but…”

You raise both hands. “I’m not judging.”

He sighs raggedly as he bounces down the apartment’s stairs. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“What?” you ask with a laugh, “Dating? Yea, it’s pretty fucking terrifying, Buck.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

You hold the door open for him and slide him a pitying look.

“Because I am.”

The walk to The Glass Cannon is spent walking Bucky through the plan — and for the most part, he makes a point of nodding along and listening. His only real anxiety pops up at the mention of Alexei, which is relatable to say the least.

It’s dark, the streets are relatively quiet, and the spring chill has pricked your skin. Your heels click against the pavement, and you stalk along. Shoving your hands in your pockets of the pink, shag jacket, you huff.

You’re starting to feel the anxiety.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re both approaching the blue glow of the storefront.

Computers & Stuff was a family-owned and operated computer shop from the 90s that was taken over by a lesser-known hand of the Russian crime family in New York, the Gardzovs. Alexei’s father is the formal owner of the shop, and his son runs the lucrative activities of the underground club that lay beneath the graphics cards and motherboards.

Bucky, as you both near the entrance, speaks quickly. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Just follow my lead, okay?” you whisper.

The bell above the door dings when you pull open the glass door.

The lighting is sterile and if you’re real quiet, you can hear the dull hum of the fluorescents. The store is empty, save for one man behind the register.

You almost duck out the entrance at the sight of him.

Igor has been a bouncer at The Glass Cannon for as long as you’ve been a patron — and he’s also one of Alexei’s dogs. This part of the plan was something you’d considered only briefly, and for a second, you’re thankful you worried over the million and ten ways this would play out for days.

“Well, if it isn’t the little bunny.”

It’s said with malice. Igor’s tattooed hands land on the counter as he leans.

You, however, hold your head high. Bucky watches as something changes in your posture.

“Good to see you, Igor.”

“Is it?” he growls, stalking around the counter and quickly encroaching on your personal space, “Because I’m pretty sure you’re not welcome here, bunny.”

Bucky gets a good look at the man now — clearly an enforcer. He’s got prison tattoos, a shaved head. The long beard is a weak spot. Doesn’t seem to be armed. Blue eyes flick to you and the way you don’t even flinch when the man leans to breathe right in your face.

You just smile.

“I thought you’d say that,” you mumble, moving to swing your bag to the front and dig your wallet out, “But, I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

Suddenly, there’s a hundred-dollar bill slipping from your well-manicured nails into the vest pocket of the bouncer. There’s a tense pause, then, while the two of you size one another up.

“Fucking your way through college paid off, huh?” he hisses.

You stay quiet.

Bucky, though, moves between you both with a quick shove. Immediately, Igor’s attention goes to Bucky as he sizes him up — he laughs. His nose is nearly touching Bucky’s.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“You should watch your mouth,” Bucky says evenly, “Or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

You’re careful to hide your expression; the feeling the words stir isn’t one that you’re happy about. This sudden protectiveness, though, makes you feel some sort of invincible.

Igor settles back on his heels.

He steps back.

He gestures to the back room with his head.

You keep walking when he calls out: “Careful, bunny, the dogs are going to be looking for you.”

You grit your teeth tightly and push through the fabric curtain.

He barks, taunting you.

Bucky is by your side in an instant, gaze still rooted over his shoulder at the hulking bouncer. He waits until you’ve settled down until you’ve said his name. His eyes fall to you, then to the stairwell before them.

Above it, in curled neon tubing, reads The Glass Cannon.

The windows are blacked out, but from his spot at the top of the stairs, Bucky can feel the rattle of a deep bass vibrate his ribs.

“Come on. We’re on a time crunch now.”

“Alexei?”

You nod as you lead the way down the stairs. “Word travels fast. We need to be quicker. Stick to the crowds. Remember, we just need to find Kiwi — then we bail.”

Bucky nods tensely.

Then, you open the doors.

Immediately, his eyes adjust to the darkness — neon and strobes and the pulse of purple and pink LEDs make his vision swim. It’s warmer down here, and the stairs leading down into the sub-basement is lined with people sipping drinks and chattering over the loud music. It smells like piss and beer and tobacco.

Again, Bucky watches as the person he knows melts away.

The Rabbit in front of him is different.

You reach, as if on reflex, for his hand.

When you turn around and flash him a smile, he has to swallow down a sudden rise of sheepishness.  

The sea of people part around you, and Bucky realizes quickly that people recognize you. He can see their painted lips moving, muttering things into curious ears about the pink-clad woman in front of him; there are smiles there and frowns, and shock. You’re slow in your descent, making a show of the arrival — all while Bucky begins to piece together that The Glass Cannon is larger than he originally suspected.

As they near the bottom of the landing, he can see out across the floor.

There’s a square-shaped catwalk around the dance floor, laden with dancers on their designated poles. Tables line the outside of the cavernous room, and the bars along each wall are crowded — even still, these glimpses of his surroundings come in temporary flashes of light. The music coming from the center of the dancefloor is loud. The entirety of the scene is raucous.

He can’t imagine you finding solace here.

He tightens his grip on your hand. You squeeze back.

When both of you reach the bottom of the stairwell, the sea of people swallow you in a current of dancing and drinking and laughing, and you crawl into Bucky’s personal space to shout in his ear.

You’re still holding his hand tightly, pressed to his chest, as you lean upwards to brush your cheek with his.

“Follow me, okay?”

He nods.

You begin the methodical crawl through the dancefloor, working your way to the bar — there, you pause long enough to be served a drink that’s as pink as the glitter on your eyelids. The flecks dance in the lights, and Bucky graciously accepts a shot from the bartender who smiles sweetly like honey at you.

You bat your lashes, thank her, and stand gracefully from the barstool.

You take a pointed swig and scan the floor.

Kiwi would be in one of the private booths, you suspect — she was enough of a high roller here. But, with the crowded club bursting at the seams, it was nearly impossible to get to the other side. You sway a bit on your feet, still tightly gripping Bucky’s hand in your own. You refuse to let go.

For your sake and his.

Bucky is a silent shadow, eyes roaming the club — he watches a dancer dip down low and snag a green bill from a patron. Someone beside him laughs loud, another bumping into his backside as you continue to weave to the outer rim of the room. The music is so loud his heartbeat could be mistaken for an 808, and he feels the thrum in his bones.

If he wasn’t so overwhelmed, if he was drunk, maybe it could be fun.

Finally, out of the haze of bodies, Bucky can breathe.

You’re leaning over again, speaking quickly.

“I don’t see her.”

“I can’t see shit in here,” he calls back, eyes moving along the ridge of the room. He scans the booths set into the walls, set up on platforms, and roped off with velveteen, “Where would she be?”

“Hard to tell,” you mumble, “But I think I might need to go to Plan B.”

Bucky follows your solid stare.

In the booth directly across the floor from you, there’s a man in black — black everything, save from his hair. That’s the brightest blue Bucky has ever seen. He’s swallowed by a harem of men and women who are laughing and drinking and dancing, and he’s entertaining. Ringed fingers wave in the air, face split into a laugh so wide he swears it’s a mile long. He’s got glasses on and they’re tinted blue.

Bucky watches carefully as you move to his booth.

It’s like a prey surveying a trap — you’re careful.

Finally, when you stand before it, you let go of his hand.

“Hi there, Climber.”

The whole booth falls silent. The man stiffens, back turned to you totally. Bucky watches as his hands fall and slowly, the man you’d called Climber turns around.

His expression is stone cold.

His voice, however, is as warm as a hot poker.

“Oh my goodness, is that Rabbit?”

He ascends from the booth, platform boots leaving him to tower over you — he’s no small man, either. Bucky watches as he bends to kiss both of your cheeks and hug you tightly. He, however, doesn’t pull away entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he hisses, “You want to be roadkill?”

“I need to find Kiwi,” you whisper quickly, expression almost begging, “Please.”

He pauses, dimpled chin wavering a bit. Bucky watches him sniff, push his glasses back, and readjust his posture. Climber licks his lips and his eyes dart to Bucky. He’s thinking, Bucky realizes, and after a quick moment of deliberation, he seems to cave.

“Only because I owe you.”

“I know,” you say, raising your hands, “I know.”

In a dash, his demeanor changes once more. He’s flying over to his harem, waving his hands and blowing kisses and promising he’ll be back in a flash. They whine, they moan, but Climber appeases them with another round of jello shots from strobing syringes that a waitress is carrying by.

“Come on then,” he says, “And stop looking like such a prude.”

He begins to weave.

You follow hand returning to its spot in Bucky’s like a lifeline.

You’re sipping your drink, moving through the crowd easily. There’s a slight sway in your step now, and at one point you and Climber even get noticed by a pod of people who recognize your faces. It’s met with laughing and squealing and in the fray, the both of you slip back into the crowd. Bucky is taking it all in, desperately ignoring the tingle of a panic flaring in the back of his head.

Too many people.

Soon, though, Climber is moving towards a side entrance.

It’s a back room.

Suddenly, the dim lights and neon dissolve, and instead, Bucky is flashed in the face with the abrasive sting of fluorescent lights. It no longer reeks of spilled beer, and his boots don’t stick to the ground. No, there’s quiet chatter back here — Climber continues to lead the two of you through a maze of supply crates full of booze and soda.

Then, a right turn. And a left turn.

Someone is taking inventory.

“Kiwi, I know you’re going to hate me for this—”

The woman who turns around is beautiful. She’s in the midst of eyeing an open crate that looks just like the others but fitted with a hollowed center, marking off what looks like an inventory of burner cell phones. Her brown skin is decorated with glitter, her eyes streaked with the same green shade of her tightly shaved head. The green is bright and it reminds Bucky of summer.

Suddenly, her expression sours.

“What the fuck.”

“I know—”

“No,” she snaps, raising her hand and waving to the assistant beside her to take her tablet and make themselves scarce, “You need to get out of here.”

“I need your help,” you say finally, tone heavy.

It’s enough to make Climber sigh. Kiwi watches you, scratches her neck, and swallows.

She meets Climber’s eyes.

Then she breaks.

“Where the fuck have you been, Rabbit?” she asks, worries seeping into her eyes as she pulls you into a rough hug, “We thought you were dead.”

“No,” you shake your head, “But you know I couldn’t be around here anymore.”

“Yea,” Climber snorts, “Not good for your health, huh, love?”

“Alexei still wants your head,” Kiwi chimes in, crossing her arms, “Does he know you’re here?”

“Igor was on the door, so I’m sure he’s heard by now.”

Both of them curse.

Guilt flashes across your face as you screw your eyes shut and nod. “I know. I know, I just… I seriously need your help, Kiwi. It was worth the risk. It’s — HYDRA. I need to tap into the Alexandria Library.”

Immediately, the woman stiffens.

Her eyes flash to Bucky in the corner. He stares back.

“He waits outside.”

“You can trust him—”

“No,” she snaps, “I can’t. And I don’t. And I won’t.”

You give Bucky a pleading look. Between the two of you, a negotiation happens between your eyes. It’s a compromise, and finally, Bucky relents.

“Fine,” Bucky barks, tilting his head and giving you a tight-lipped smile, “Fine. I’ll wait out here.”

“He’s cute,” mumbles Climber as Bucky rounds the corner, long legs carrying him out of the supply room, “Boyfriend?”

“Shut up, Climber,” you mumble, waving your hand, “Just listen—”

“Who is he?” Kiwi asks, eyes still watching the doorway, “And why did you bring him along?”

You sigh, rubbing your brow. “He’s the one who’s trying to find this HYDRA agent. He knew her before.”

“So he’s HYDRA.”

“No,” you snap cooly, “He’s not.”

“So, just handsome, then?” Climber asks, hands waving, “Right. Great. Really making a case for yourself, Rabbit.”

“He’s trying to find a woman named Innessa Sidrova. She was one of the original agents who helped form the American HYDRA cell,” you explain quickly, “I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and… And he’s a good person. He’s my friend. I’m trying to help him, but I can’t do it without you. Both of you.”

Kiwi hums. She sighs. “That explains why you went MIA.”

“Aside from putting Alexei behind bars?” you scoff, “Yea, the GRC played a part in it.”

The three of you are quiet for a moment.

“Fine.”

You look up at Kiwi. Her hands are on her waist.

There’s an immense wash of relief that floods over you at that moment — and from the looks of it, Kiwi can tell. You move to grab her hand, and she grabs back. Both of you smile, and the hug that follows is warm. You’ve missed her. A lot.

“Thank you, Suji.”

Then, footsteps.

That relief is traded in for an anxious backfire of fear in an instant.

It’s slow. Dress shoes on polished cement.

Then:

“Oh, bunny, bunny, bunny. Tsk, tsk.”

Climber and Kiwi’s faces upturn to the doorway and they tell you everything you need to know.

So, you decide at that moment that you won’t be the prey tonight.

You turn around and come face-to-face with a man playing devil.

Alexei Gardzov is a handsome man — a beard and piercing grey eyes. His hair is tightly cropped, and intricate tattoos decorate every inch of his skin. Some of them are new, you realize, and there’s temporary pride that bubbles up at them. They’re from prison.

You almost smile.

Behind him, three goons loom.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d come hopping back,” he croons as he enters the room with the swagger of a man who trapped his dinner, “Well worth the wait, I think.”

His cologne hangs like smog in the air. He strolls up to you, and in a flash, he’s got your hair in a vice grip.

He yanks it back, you grit your teeth.

The barrel of a gun digs into your cheek.

“Climber, Kiwi, and Rabbit,” he sing-songs, “All in one room again like it’s NYU’s 2014 hack-a-thon. Isn’t that cute?”

Kiwi speaks. “Alexei—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, gun moving to flash towards Kiwi, “And stay out of my business, Sujina.”

The gun’s muzzle is cold. He’s rough, and you try to ignore the twinge of pain that comes with his unceremonious yank of your hair. Once more, he tsks. His breath is hot on your face. He smells like cigarettes and whiskey.

“I spent seven years behind bars,” he bites, “All because a’ you.”

“Me? I wasn’t the one trafficking girls—”

“SHUT UP!”

The pistol cracks across your cheek and the cement floor hurtles towards you. The gasp that falls from your lips is from shock; your fingers dig into the cold ground as you try to blink away the blurriness. Your ears ring. Blood drips from your cheek between your fingers.

Again, there’s a hand in your hair.

Now, the fight begins.

Climber and Kiwi are stuck, frozen in fear.

You don’t blame them, because Igor and the others have guns already drawn. One of them, one that’s young and you don’t recognize immediately, has a baseball bat in his hands.

Alexei drags you by your hair as you grimace, refusing to scream. Your heels scrape against the ground as you try to get purchase, but he’s quick to throw you back against the far wall.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he smiles, “I won’t kill you. Not right now.”

Then, a kick.

Right to the ribs.

You can’t breathe — you gasp earnestly at the white, hot shot of pain.

“Get up.”

You’re not listening, you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

“I said,” comes a growl as he reaches, hand in your hair again as he drags you up the wall. Your legs buckle, and you try to hold your chin high as you stumble upwards, “Get up.”

Then, there’s a hand around your throat.

Tight. Too tight. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t get his hand off your neck, can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t fucking think, can’t stand, can’t see, can’t breathe —

“Boss!”

A new voice.

The pressure is relieved for a second.

A new face has run into the room — he looks frazzled, hair askew and gun out. He’s eyeing the scene before him in a moment’s pause.

“Can’t you see I’m a little bit busy?” Alexei snags as you gasp, clawing at his hand. He swings his head to the figure in the doorway with an annoyed bark, “What is it?”

“The cops, boss,” he stammers, “They’re here.”

“What?”

“They’re here for her, boss.”

A slow turn to where his finger is pointing. His gaze lands on you. Alexei laughs.

“Well,” he says as the goon disappears, “Isn’t that just peachy, bunny?”

The choking starts again.

Then, a metal hand.

Vibranium.

You watch it swing, you watch it grab Alexei’s throat.

Suddenly, you can breathe.

Suddenly, Bucky Barnes enters the fight.

You make friends with the ground again as you duck, just as Alexei is rammed into the wall above your head by his throat. As you cough while Kiwi calls your name — you can hear a fight. But everything’s moving slow, and it’s not until the first gunshot that you’re kicked into action. It’s loud. Your skin pricks alive.

Someone screams.

You stumble to your feet, eyes finding Bucky’s form moving quickly between the three goons — the gunshot had come from the pistol that had somehow found its way into Bucky's flesh and blood hand. One of the men is on the floor, suit pants stained with a bullet wound through the thigh. He’s wailing. Bucky doesn’t notice. Or he doesn’t care. Maybe both.

His face is cold.

Another gunshot is fired off, this time richoting between you and Kiwi and Climber and embedding itself into the cement wall overhead. The three of you scream, ducking reflexively.

That’s when Bucky snaps.

“Now would be a good time to go!”

Kiwi’s hands are on your arm as you quickly break through the doorway through the storage room. Climber is following, checking over his shoulder at the carnage that Bucky begins to reap in the room.

He’s hysterical, trying to jog in his white platform boots. “What the fuck, Rabbit!”

Your voice is hoarse. You’re clutching your ribs. “Not now, Climber!”

“I’m parked in the back,” Kiwi says, ducking through plastic flaps as she helps you through the back of the club, “Come on, we’ll go through the trucking entrance.”

You hear Bucky call your name — he’s jogging to catch up, gun drawn in his hand. Seems like he made good work of the others, sporting nothing more than a split lip. You turn, pausing for a moment to take inventory of his well-being.

And that’s all it takes.

Alexei Gardzov, limping, steps in front of you and Kiwi and Climber at an intersection in the hallway.

There’s a gun in his hand.

The first thing you feel is the impact.

Like a truck slamming into you at full speed. For the fourth time tonight, you have the air robbed from your lungs. It’s instant confusion.

Then comes the pain. Hot. Hotter than the sun. Hot like white flames. It tears through your shoulder and all you can do is gasp; you’re sent into a stutter step — and while the world around you continues to move, you’re busy reconciling with the fact you’ve just been shot.

A bullet flies by your head.

Alexei Gardzov drops.

You’re grasping at your chest, staggering, when Bucky breaks into a sprint — but you’re okay. You’re okay, it’s just your shoulder, it’s just your arm, you’re okay, you can feel your fingers and you can breathe and the pain is nearly unbearable but you’re okay.

Then, a baseball bat.

It clocks Bucky directly in the skull. He’s clotheslined.

It’s Igor.

The gun from Bucky’s hands clatters across the ground to your feet, and you’re too busy trying to get to Bucky to realize — but, you’ve got tunnel vision and adrenaline and at that moment, you think a good sidekick doesn’t need anything else in this life.

Igor goes to swing at you, but you duck. Your stiletto crushes through the top of his shoe. He screams and in a flurry of pain and panic, you manage to snag the bat quick enough to turn and clock him under the chin with a roll of the wrist.

His teeth clack together and he falls backward, unconscious.

“God, I really wish you could have seen that, Buck.”

You spit. Blood paints the ground.

The bat clatters to the cement as you fight through the pain. Kiwi and Climber are by your side in an instant.

“No, no!” she screams, “We do not have time for this—”

“I am not leaving him,” you snap, nearly screaming at the woman, “Come on and help me with him. Now.”

After a sigh of resignation, Kiwi shoves the gun she’d snagged from the ground into the back of her jeans. You’ve got your hands around Bucky’s ankles as Kiwi and Climber take his torso — and the four of you make a break for the back entrance. You can hear the cops outside now, and there’s the chatter of Russian following you into the back parking lot.

“Hurry up!”

“He’s not exactly light as a feather, you know!”

“Shut up, Climber!”

You’ve got Bucky halfway into the back seat of Kiwi’s white Cadillac when another bullet whizzes by your head.

“Fuck.”

Kiwi hops into the driver’s seat as Climber scatters to hop the hood and throws himself into the passenger's seat. You lean, clinging to the door of the backseat as Kiwi peels out of the parking lot. It swings wide open and you curse loudly. You can see Alexei’s men watching from the back entrance, shouting in Russian — so you muster all your strength to pull back and throw the door closed as Kiwi’s car bounces over a speed bump and rams through the parking meter’s gate.

In the rear window, the front of the club is surrounded.

Red and blue lights illuminate the street — but Kiwi is quick.

No one follows.

And when she finally makes it to the Manhattan Bridge, you exhale.

Bucky’s head is in your lap. He still hasn’t come to — there’s blood coming from his nose and you’re worrying. You lace your fingers into his thick, brown hair and chew your lip.

Kiwi’s voice pulls you from him.

“When were you going to mention the vibranium arm, huh?”

You laugh. It’s more of a breath of air than anything. Your head rests back against the seat. Your shoulder is still on fire. You’re hot, but cold. You’re bleeding still. Your ribs aren’t right. You know that.

“I can’t believe he shot you,” Climber mumbles, “He fucking shot you.”

“And your boy toy shot him,” Kiwi says, sparing you a look in the rearview, “So you better pray he’s dead.”

You ignore the commentary.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe,” she says, accelerating into Manhattan, “Where I can get you those files and you can keep your head down.”

Sounds like a plan.

Better than the one you had, anyways.

[lmdhawk]

So here’s the thing. TERF Bitch is a terrible person. So horrible, I will not even type her name out. (I will however, use she/her pronouns for her, because there is shit you do not do to people). We’ve established this. She’s a transphobic asshole. And her work is flawed and has subtle problematic aspects that a lot of us missed during our formative years.

But here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people saying that finding ways to enjoy Harry Potter without giving her money and while publicly condemning her actions is not enough. That it should be ignored and relegated to cultural irrelevancy. And here’s the thing: It’s too late for the cultural irrelevancy, and not reading shit because it’s problematic or it’s creator is problematic is not a good solution to anything.

Her worldbuilding was terrible, but her storytelling was on point. Turns out poor morality and good writing skills are not mutually exclusive. And her worldbuilding was just good enough that millions of people poured their hearts and souls into fixing it. Into elaborating on her world on a global scale in a way that wasn’t reductionist stereotypes long before she even thought to. Thinking through the societal implications that she glossed over. And letting a transphobic bitch take away something that brought us so much joy because she doesn’t like the fact that so many of us are trans or that we made her characters anything other than cis het in our head cannons doesn’t sit well with me.

And yes, there are shitty people in the fandom who refuse to acknowledge the flaws in her work or even refute her transphobia. There are shitty people in ever fandom. But letting them stop anyone from enjoying a work is just as bad. And judging an entire fandom by the worst elements is bad faith. And I can’t condemn people for liking it when fans like https://hashtagruthless.com/the-gayly-prophet exist, picking apart why it’s problematic and why it speaks to us. There are good people out there who still find it a fascinating and familiar touchstone while understanding the flaws. 

The world needs to get better at seeing the flaws in things we like and reading critically to understand biases. And while uncritically consuming biased media is unhealthy, refusing to engage with something because of problematic aspects, real or perceived, can be almost as bad. It stifles conversation about why, about the good aspects of things and about why those two things coexist and what that says about our society. Simply condemning works is not conducive to that. It needs to become normalized that flawed things are okay to like for certain aspects.

As for the work itself? I could write a post ten times this length about the antisemitism, the minimalist gay representation, the problems with the house system as it exists in cannon (not as it exists in meta, where people chose their houses, often as adults), the whole poor treatment of Hermione’s efforts to free house elves, and a million other things. Instead I will point out something that James Somerton said, that I think is worth bearing in mind: while the anti-discrimination messages had a lot of caveats that weren’t about true equality, a lot of use didn’t see that as kids. And so the fandom attracted a lot of people who were able and willing to grow past that as we saw it.

(  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLuNGhQPDHM )

So yeah, I will not condemn anyone solely for liking Harry Potter. But maybe that’s just me not wanting to give TERF bitch the ability to gatekeep something that she put out into the world for all of us that we bonded over

And yes @miss-quintessence I am this petty. Maybe I reacted to post wrong but this is important to me and I need to get it off my chest. I may not be as active in the fandom anymore but this still matters.

[bluebellefox]

Severitus Recs

(for @hayalee8)

Now I should probably say that when I say Severitus, I really don’t mean stories in which Snape is Harry’s biological parent, but ones that they develop some sort of guardian/ward, mentor/student relationship. Now that’s out of the way, here we go! 

(If I didn’t link some of the author’s tumblrs, they don’t to my knowledge have one) 

1.  That Awful Boy series by @paracosim

TAB is probably my favorite Snape-centric fic of all time, it’s so fucking amazing. As in I reread it every month or two, literally cannot recommend it enough! If you read it and enjoy, send the author some love, he more than deserves it! 

The first part is completed and the sequel is currently being written (if you have preferences about that sort of thing). Word count: 168k+ 

TAB takes place during the summer before OoTP. Because of the failing blood wards around the Dursleys, Harry is sent to Spinner’s End to spend a few weeks with Snape learning occlumency. 

TAB can also be found on ffnet, if you have a site preference. 

2. Crime and Punishment by mlocatis 

This one’s another of my favorites! Currently ongoing and housed on ffnet and ao3. Word count: 170k+ 

Also set during the summer before Harry’s fifth year. Dudley sets up Harry to be arrested for a burglary he didn’t commit. With his relatives content to let him be left exposed to Death Eaters in a muggle holding cell, Dumbledore sends Snape to go pick him up and house him until his hearing. 

Honestly, I normally prefer my Snape to be a little less put together and a little more feral than he’s portrayed in this story but it’s wonderfully well-written and compelling. Harry and Snape develop a very sweet relationship over the course of the plot so I’m willing to let loose on a few rules. 

The author’s other stories, the ongoing Snape’s Promise (or here on ffnet) and the completed Mors Certa, Hora Incerta are also Severitus (or at least, Severitus-adjacent) and very good! I believe they also have a Snily story with a Severitus sub-plot as well, but I really can’t speak for it as I haven’t read it. (Personally, I don’t read Snily but you do you!) 

3. O Mine Enemy by Kirby Lane 

Currently ongoing but nearing the end of the story and it updates biweekly. I do believe you can only find it on ffnet. Word count: 403k+

OME is a post OoTP fic but largely ignore HBP and DH, it takes place during the summer after fifth year. When an injured Professor Snape shows up on the Dursleys doorstep with a warning of impending Death Eater activity, Harry must keep him out of sight of the rest of the house. 

There’s some really interesting magic-system and world building in this one. OME has it all, tender Harry and Snape moments and some gut wrenching angsty bits too, what more can you ask for!  

4. Far Beyond a Promise Kept by oliversnape

It was very hard to just pick one of their Severitus fics so I went with the first one I ever read by them.  It’s completed and can by found on ao3 and ffnet. Word count: 140k+ 

FBaPK starts off in the summer before third year but continues until the end of fourth year. After running away from Privet Drive after blowing up his aunt, Harry is found by Snape who then takes him for the summer and begins to help him prepare to take down Voldemort. 

Again, oliversnape has some amazing Severitus stories and it was hard to just pick one but To Recollect the Future (ao3 and ffnet), The Redefining Life series (ao3 and ffnet), and Keep Your Enemies Closer (ao3 and ffnet) are all wonderful works. They have a very particular way of writing Snape that really highlights all the little ways that make him human, and Harry is written in a very believable teenage way. All these stories have a really nice mash-up of angst and fluff. 

5. Never Say Remember by Malora 

Completed and can be found on ao3 and ffent. Word count: 93k+

NSR is a PoA AU that involves cannon Harry switching places with a different iteration of himself from a different timeline where Lily lived and marries Snape, who has adopted Harry as his own son. The story follows both Harrys and their relationships with their opposite Snapes. 

I don’t normally read Snily if that puts how good this fic is in perspective for you. It’s a beautiful story that broke my heart a little, very bittersweet ending. 

6. Where the Heart Is by @kohakhearts

Completed one-shot and I do believe it’s only available on ao3. Word Count: 15k+

This one takes place the summer before sixth year. Harry spends his summer days at the park, writing Sirius letters he can no longer answer. He finds help in an unlikely source. 

This hurts in all the right places, some angst with a hopeful ending. The dialogue in this one is what keeps drawing me back to it, Harry and Snape have some pretty heartfelt conversations. 

While sifting through the author’s ao3 page for this one, I saw some other Snape & Harry fics that seemed very promising! Be sure to check out their other stuff if you enjoy this one, it’s what I’m headed off to do!

If you’ve read all of this, thanks for letting my ramble on about some of my favorite Severitus fics. Hope everyone is staying healthy and happy! 

[sekceesimps]

HxH Domestic Fluff Headcannons

these are just some cute and fluffy (kinda spicy?) head cannons for Feitan, Hisoka, and Chrollo with a fem!reader

a/n   please send in requests and feedback. I love doing head cannons and really want to improve my writing for y’all,

sincerely Coffee

Chrollo Lucilfer

-  Chrollo would have never thought that he’d settle down with someone. In truth, he’s still surprised that he did. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, he would kill for you, but he’s surprised that you managed to stick with him for this long

-  This sexy man loves you so much

- he's never really felt this strongly about anyone in his whole life. He’d usually just fuck someone to get what he needs and then get the hell out of there. Honestly, he didn’t think he needed anyone being the busy leader that he is

- With you he feels so many more unfamiliar and strong emotions. He knew a few months into being in a relationship that he wanted to marry you, he was very sure about you being the one. 

- However, this level of love only comes due to how much trust he has in you. At the beginning of your relationship it was dishonest for him. He had a mask, but that didn’t protect him from the eventual feelings he developed. It took him a bit of time to drop his guard, but once that happens he’s all yours. 

- He doesn’t admit it, but he loves it when you call him your husband. Having a ring on your finger makes him feel more secure that you truly belong to him too. that possessive mf 

- you’d have the be very patient and accepting of him and his line of work. He still goes about his spider business, even after marriage, although he tries to make it less obvious now, for your own peace of mind. 

- He enjoys coming home to you cooking a beautiful meal and waiting for him on the couch. No one in his life has ever put as much thought and effort into things for him as you do. 

- Will still spoil you. Your gaze lingering on that bracelet in the store too long? it’s already wrapped up and on the bed for you. 

- If he thinks he pissed you off even a little bit, he’ll try to give you something as an apology. You don’t really care, preferring to just be with him. 

- morning kisses! You’ll often find yourself waking up to him kissing you on your forehead, neck, and cheeks. He loves seeing you blush and act shy when he does this 

- these morning kisses will have a 50/50 chance of leading to more. it’s usually lazy and sensual, but it’s what both of you need before heading off to the shower together and then taking care of the day’s events. 

- He loves cuddling so much, it’s insane. He might act like he’d be the big spoon, but that’s just not happening. You’ll be watching a movie together at night and he’ll be making himself comfortable with his back against your chest. In truth, Chrollo loves being held by you 

- Don’t get me wrong, he’s still going to be topping you like 80% of the time, but he really loves just taking in your warmth and the comfort you give him. Coming from Meteor City, he’s never felt as safe as when you’re holding him. 

- Likes burying his face into your hair and just inhaling your scent. It’s so intoxicating for him. 

- Sometimes when you two are sitting in bed he’ll read to you or let you read over his shoulder. You two would probably be reading the same literature and talking about it as a nice calm activity together.  

- He’s never really considered a family before, but after marriage he’d go into a slight baby fever. he 100% has a breeding kink 

- He saw you holding a family member’s young child once and something in him definitely changed. You don’t mind though. One kid would definitely not be enough for him. 

- Overall, a married Chrollo continues to pamper you and will always see you as his whole world. The amount of trust and love he has for you will only grow through the years. 

Hisoka Morow

- Honestly, Hisoka isn’t settling down with anyone seriously anytime soon, but for the right person he would perhaps put in some effort in his own way

- that being said, if he does ever get into a serious relationship he’d be like a house cat. 

- you’ll be doing chores around the house and he’d come behind you for attention until you stop doing the dishes and cuddle with him

- With Hisoka, he’s either always giving you affection or will be ignoring you. There is truly no in between

- don’t go seeking attention and kisses. If you initiate he’ll be mildly annoyed and won’t indulge you. He is a massive tease and will start initiating affection at the worst times

- you’re busy with work? Too bad. He’s horny and wants to take you on the desk right now. trying to fold the clothes from the dryer? you better do it with his arms wrapped around your waist and him breathing down your neck. 

- His method of affection will be neck kisses and hands wrapped around your waist. He’s not too into holding hands or cuddling. 

- He has a weird obsession with calling you sickly sweet pet names until you get annoyed. he definitely won’t stop even if you get pissed off by it

- dates with him are also truly something else. He’s pretty clueless about what normal couples do. Some dates can be sweet, with him taking you to an expensive dinner or a romantic walk around town. Other times they be weird, with him taking you to a random abandoned lot and making out with you for an hour. 

- Hisoka is incredibly possessive in public. He’ll be clutching onto you if anyone starts looking and flirting with you. you are HIS and it pisses him off that someone doesn’t realize this. 

- which is exactly why he likes the idea of marrying you. He can make it official that you belong to him. PDA will increase so much after you get married.

- He also leaves way more hickies on your neck. He loves to make sure people know that you are his. 

- When you two are getting ready in the mornings he’ll teach you how to apply makeup. Always gets the best stuff for you, he steals it sometimes, but he pretends he doesn’t know. Seriously though, he’s great with hair styling and tries to teach you all his tricks.  

- This sexy clown will be a shitty gift giver. He forgets some important dates, but makes up for it with hastily bought presents. also eats you out as an apology

- He’s pretty stubborn, so when you get into real arguments don’t expect him to beg for you back. He’s going to be pouty and ignore you. All you have to do though is ignore him back and eventually he gets frustrated enough to pin you against something and fuck you right there. 

- He refuses to have kids. That’s just not his style. He’d rather you and him had an easy to maintain pet that doesn’t require much work

- If you do end up getting pregnant, he’ll be displeased and most likely won’t alter any of his actions. He warms up to the idea later on, but initially it’s pretty rough getting him on board the idea of a family 

- Hisoka is a strange lover to be married to, but he does love and care for you in his own ways. 

Feitan Portor

- Don’t expect many words from him. If you want to hear “I Love You” and other words of comfort, it would be incredibly rare and only ever when he’s really tired and not quite in control of his demeanor.

- He would only want to settle down with you if you were self reliant. He’s not always going to be there so you need to take care of yourself

- You would probably also be a Spider or some form of assassin/hunter. He needs to be able to know that you can take down enemies when he’s not with you. You being able to beat down enemies turns him on so much.  

- Feitan also probably sees marriage as an unnecessary formality. You’d probably be dating for a while, so why do you need a piece of paper telling you how much you love each other? If you wanted it though, he wouldn’t protest too much.

- He’s not COMPLETELY devoid of emotions though. He still loves you very much. His form of affection comes from small changes in his body language and the little things he does

- He will remember important dates and occasionally give a word of praise on those days. This lack of affection is definitely not because he doesn’t love you, but rather because he just does not know what to do when it comes to romance

- His form of romance also comes in more romantic sex. We all know that Feitan is a kinky mf, but after being with you for so long, he mellows out a bit. He worships your body however you want as his main form of reassurance

- Sometimes with urging from the rest of the Troupe he tries to bring you things you’d enjoy. Will get you some form of matching clothing or maybe a practical knife. 

- He actually gets you a cat on your birthday. He’ll act like he didn’t plan it, but he knew you wanted to take care of something while he was gone. Pretends he hates the cat, but they’re really similar and get along well.  

- Due to his background and upbringing, trusting and physical contact is foreign and unnatural to him. It would take a lot of time together and loving nights for him to finally let you cuddle and have him kiss you often

- After you two break that barrier he can’t stop holding your hand, touching your waist, giving you forehead kisses. he is so touch starved, give him love

- Will probably never seriously consider children. In your lines of work it would be too dangerous with not much of a benefit. That being said though, if you do end up getting pregnant he won’t protest too hard

- The kid will end up growing on him though. He definitely doesn’t want more though, one is more than enough for him. Will secretly find it adorable when his son or daughter calls him dad. He will teach your kid how to torture and interrogate someone in 10 minutes. 

- He loves the family you two have and wouldn’t trade it for the world. Be patient with him and he would take a bullet for you 

part 2??

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Some Semblance of a Man

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31716874

Kaz

Kaz Brekker was always looking for a challenge, for the next rival to ruin, for the next near death experience. He’d learned quickly that sitting idle in The Barrel got you killed and he’d been running ever since. But with Pekka gone, Inej and her parents reunited, and the Council of Tides temporarily abated, Kaz was beginning to realize there was nothing else for him to do but wait.

Of course, there were the day to day activities, he still had The Crow Club to run, he still had slavers to gather information on. But after everything he and the Dregs had been through recently, those tasks seemed trivial. He didn’t want his crew to think that just because he’d come into a bit of money that he had gone soft, and he didn’t want rumor spreading throughout the Barrel that Kaz Brekker was getting bored. Without his crew around the Slat, Kaz had to find other ways to pass the time, and for the sake of maintaining appearances, Kaz would walk the streets at night, pretending to look at his watch, pretending to trail a random person, or spreading rumors. Sometimes he would walk to The Menagerie and think of what it would look like burned to the ground.

That’s where he’d been tonight, with a gentle mist of rain turning the cobblestone to mirrors, pools of colored lights spilling out across the street. There were few people out, the rain enough of a nuisance to make them think twice about spending their coin in gambling halls and pleasure houses. Despite the hour growing ever later, the Slat was teaming with life when Kaz returned, the air smelled like alcohol and sweat, the newer additions to the crew were trying to have a conversation, which had mostly devolved into shouting over the out of tune cacophony of voices singing drunkenly across the bar. Kaz bought a round for everyone, though he knew the chance of anyone here betraying him in favor of another gang was slim, keeping his crew happy with a bit of booze usually made his job a little easier. Besides, the longer the crowd was down here, the longer he had for some quiet of his own, in his room on the fourth floor, where the voices did not carry.

Kaz held his breath as he started his climb up the stairs, it was never easy, but Kaz valued the privacy and protection afforded by his room more than he worried about the pain. He bolted the door behind him, leaning his head against its frame and biting his lip as he massaged the twitching muscle of his thigh. He stretched, rubbed a knot from his neck, and reached for his hat.

He paused, the pattering of raindrops puncturing the peace. “Won’t Jesper and Wylan be missing their Wraith?” Kaz asked his empty room, his back to the window, hiding his smirk. He moved slowly, hanging his hat on the doorknob and turning around just in time to watch Inej swing gracefully from the rafters of his ceiling and drop down to his bed.

“No, they’re going over the books tonight, so they’ll be busy for a few hours at least,”

“Wylan’s books take hours to go over?” Kaz asked, leaning against the wall to take the weight off his bad leg.

“No,” Inej replied “But the boys tend to get distracted by...paperwork and usually have to start over,”

It took Kaz longer than he’d ever admit to understand her meaning, but once he had he merely quirked a single, bemused eyebrow at her. Something hungry and desperate twisted its way through Kaz’s stomach when Inej smiled wryly back at him, her eyes flitting to his collar. “What business?”

“I’ve been reading up on cannons.” Inej began, her face a picture of concentration. “Specht and I are going to be taking a few people we’ve been eyeing for our crew out on the water sometime in the next few weeks to practice. We aren’t going far, just far enough to where the cannon fodder won’t send other ships into a panic. We want to see if they can work well as a team before we commit to hiring them.”

“A wise decision,” Kaz agreed, ignoring the way his heart seized within his chest. It made him happy she would have her freedom, but the thought of losing her to the sea always left an ache.

“I wanted to extend an invitation to you,” the confidence Kaz had grown so used to seeing in Inej’s shoulders melted away, she pulled out a knife, turning it over in her hand. “to join us on that trip. I thought you might want to be there to ensure your...investment is taking form the way you’d hoped it would,”

“It wasn’t an in-” Kaz swallowed the rest of the sentence. It wasn’t an investment. He thought, don’t you know this was all for you? “How long will you be gone?”

“Not long, a day, maybe two.”

“When you have the dates secured, let me know, I’ll see if I can make the time,” He knew already he would make the time.

Inej nodded, a glint of something in her eye “And you? What business?”

“I have a job for you,” Kaz took this as an excuse to get closer to Inej, moving toward his desk and stretching out his leg. “I recently came into the possession of some ledgers,”

“You can use the word ‘stole’ Kaz, I’m not the stadwatch ,”

“They have the names of all the ships that have docked in the harbor, the captain, and their cargo,” Kaz continued, “I was looking through it for leads on slavers when I noticed something,” Inej untangled her limbs, and pushed herself upward, walking over to Kaz’s desk. Kaz had forgotten how comfortable it felt to have her by his side. “There’s a ship that keeps appearing, but it never stays for long. It docks at last light, and it departs first thing in the morning. I’ve looked at the dates of it’s arrival,” Kaz handed Inej the first of the ledgers, she took it from him without a word, scanning the pages in search of the same patterns he had found.

“The Sankta ?” Inej hissed and Kaz could hear the disgust on her tongue.

“I thought that might catch your eye,” he opened another ledger, pointing to the name of the ship and the dates it had docked in Ketterdam. “It comes in every six months or so, and when it does the population in the Barrel always seems to increase. The clubs start advertising more heavily, the pleasure houses start getting more traffic,”

“You think they’re smuggling people into the city?”

“I don’t know for certain what they’re trading, the ledger has different cargo listed every time. And the Captain...I’ve never heard of them before.” Inej placed the ledger in her hand back down on the desk, leaning in closer. Her braid fell down across her shoulder, barely an inch from Kaz’ face. Focus . “If the pattern holds they should be docking here in-”

“Three days?” Inej finished for him, reaching for the second ledger. Her fingers brushed against his gloves, her forearm against his jacket. Kaz lost all sense of time and place, despite the warmth of the room and the floor beneath his feet. One second he was in the Slat and the next he was cold and drowning. Inej was saying something, something like “tell him”, maybe? But he wasn’t quite sure, there was cotton in his ears, his heart was in his throat. There was water rising around his ankles.

“Kaz?” He heard her voice, far off, like a siren calling him to shore. He did not trust himself to speak, as it was he struggled to find breath “Kaz!”

He slammed back into himself, pressing one hand flat against his desk, wrapping the other around the head of his cane so tightly his knuckles went white beneath his gloves. Solid wood and solid metal, no flesh or water in sight, this was always how it went. The place beside him where Inej had been was empty, she had retreated, pressed herself up against the wall, her hands behind her back.

“I’m sorry, I-,” Kaz would have done anything to wipe away her guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to-”

“I wasn’t prepared,” he said, unable to look her in the eye, to admit to the weakness they both knew that he carried.

“I know,”

“I didn’t expect-”

“I know,” Inej interrupted. “Does the Sankta change the Berth it docks on?”

“No,” Kaz would never have the words to express the gratitude he felt at her diversion. He turned slightly in his seat, pretending to study the documents in front of him. Pretending like every cell in his body wasn’t honed in on Inej. On the way she was looking at him, distracting him once again with talk of plots and schemes, intangible actions that would let him fly high above the harbor he was drowning in. “It uses the same Berth every time.”

“Do we know who that dock belongs to?”

“It’s paid for by the Council, it’s designated for public use,”

“I’ll see what information I can gather,” Inej said and Kaz nodded, trying to force the image of Jordie out of his head. “Goodnight, Kaz,” Inej whispered after a moment, and though he did not hear her footsteps, he felt her absence immediately.

Where the water had been, regret replaced it. He balled his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. “Wait!” he called out after her, turning around slowly to not seem overeager. Inej was frozen, partway out his window. He felt picked apart with the way her gaze fell upon him, her eyebrows knit together, her face desperate and searching. Whatever unease still lingered in the center of his stomach, whatever terror still wrapped around his ankles, it fell away at the sight of Inej, sitting here on his window sill, backlit by moonlight and held up by hope.

At some point the fear of what her touch would bring him was dampened by his need to hold her close. He was broken and crooked and the most unworthy man, but he needed Inej to know it wasn’t her fault. Wanted her to know that he was trying to push the pieces of himself back together, into someone, something she would not be ashamed to love.

When Kaz and Nina had broken into the morgue all those months ago, he had powered through his fear with thoughts of Inej; the warmth of her skin, the sound of her voice. But as every second in that room of corpses passed them by, Kaz had forced Inej from his mind, not wanting to taint his memories of her with the scent of death. Kaz had believed for so long that the foolish little boy he had been had died in the harbor, but as his eyes fell upon Inej now, he knew he had been wrong. He had carried Kaz Rietveld with him every day of his life, and had pulled that doe eyed little fool to the surface on the back of his brother’s bloated body with every touch since then.

He’d learned very quickly what it meant to be weak in The Barrel. The Barrel starved, and beat, and stole all the kindness and compassion and love out of those unlucky enough to build a life inside it. Weakness got you killed, so Kaz had buried his weaknesses so deep they had turned themselves into shadows. He had kept them there in the dark for so long they had grown claws and teeth, they had become so rabid, so feral that Kaz was finding it harder and harder to keep them locked away.

But maybe he didn’t have to anymore. Because now he had the Wraith, he had Inej, and Inej made him strong. Inej made him wish for things he had convinced himself he could never have. Perhaps if he tried it, if he tried it enough, to touch her, to put her hand in his, to let her rest her head against his shoulder, to...to kiss her, he could finally put the little boy in the harbor to rest. Yes, he would drown his fear beneath the tidal wave that was Inej, he would burn away the memories of corpses against his flesh with the warmth of her skin against his.

“I want to try again,” it pained him to admit to it, it thrilled him to have said it. Kaz failed to keep his heart beat steady when Inej planted her feet firmly back into his room, and closed the window.

“Try what again?” she asked, stalking forward until there was nothing more than breath between them. Kaz studied the head of his cane, his skin prickled with the thought of what she’d feel like in his hands.

“I-” He dared a glance at her, she was ethereal, she was calculating, she was Inej and the rest of Kaz’s wish was lost with his nerve.

“Kaz, tell me,” Inej leaned forward, Kaz leaned back. He clenched his jaw, locked himself away behind his mask. “Tell me what you want,” He could feel the way she looked at him, like she’d created her own gravity and he’d collapsed beneath it. But he couldn’t make himself form words, it had taken everything he’d had to say something the first time, to show her such weakness again would surely break him. When Inej spoke there was an edge to her voice that was sharper than her knives. “Say it, Kaz. For once in your life just...say what you’re thinking. There is no one else here but us. There’s no one else to see you, to hear you treat me like you actually care.”

Kaz hung his head in shame, it was a fair blow, but that didn’t stop him from shattering into a million pieces at the acknowledgement of all the times he’d failed her. “I want to take my armor off.” He forced himself to meet her eye. “I want to beat this, I will beat this. Will you help me?”

They’d done this little dance for months now, the day on the docks, when he’d shown Inej her ship, he’d managed to hold her hand for a whole five minutes without sinking below the waves. He’d tried a couple times since then, with various levels of success. Some days he’d managed to throw his arm around her, others just the thought of her face caused him to tug on his gloves.

“Of course I’ll help you, Kaz, you only had to ask,” Kaz committed that smile of hers to memory. “Are you ready?” Inej asked.

No. Kaz steadied himself and straightened his posture “Yes,”

They started slowly, Inej resting her palm on the back of his gloved hand, Kaz took a deep breath, he could do this, he was fine. Inej’s fingers curled around his hand, she pressed their palms together. Kaz pushed the water away. She laced their fingers together, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“You okay?”

“Fine,”

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,”

Kaz wasn’t sure what kind of sound he made when Inej began to tug the gloves from his hands. She froze, looking up at him, reading him the way only she could. She dropped her hand, Kaz wanted to reach for it, but he let it fall away. “I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“No, it’s- no one else ever has,” Kaz cleared his throat, biting back a smile at the way Inej’s cheeks flushed. Tentatively, Inej continued, it took a lifetime to complete her task, it took a second. The metal of his cane was cold against his fingertips, for the first time in a long time it no longer felt comforting. He reached out with his other hand, and gently Inej took it, her palm against the top of his bare hand. It felt like fire, but Kaz preferred the burn to the icy harbor he had always known. His breath caught in his throat, Inej continued until their hands were pressed palm to palm.

“Breathe,” Inej whispered, Kaz exhaled and peace rushed in to fill his lungs. She interlaced their fingers, the water started in. Think of her . Kaz clenched his jaw. Think of that day at the docks . Kaz faltered when Inej wrapped her other hand around his wrist, the one that held his cane. He thought that she might pull their hands away, and though he was not a man of faith, he thanked every Saint he knew that she kept her hold on him.

She repeated the pattern, gripping his wrist, his elbow, his shoulder with all his layers on. He kept his breathing purposeful, controlled, his eyes trained on the wall for fear he would look at Inej and see a corpse standing in her place. She slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest, he hoped she could not feel his heartbeat. He nearly lost his footing when her arm went to his waist. He was impossibly warm, sweat had started beading at his temples, he gripped his cane a little tighter.

Inej released his hand and a weight Kaz hadn’t realized was upon him disintegrated in his chest. But it returned in a flash when Inej began to pull off his coat. “Saints,” he whispered. “Why won’t it stop ?” he hadn’t meant to say it, he hadn’t meant for it to send Inej shuffling backward, too far away for him to grasp.

“It takes time, Kaz,” Inej replied, tossing his coat on the bed, taking a tentative step forward, then another when Kaz responded in kind. She brushed her fingers against his shirt sleeve at the wrist, it was an apology and a question. “You can’t kill this kind of monster in a day,” she traced a line up to his elbow. “It took me months,” Inej said, so simply that it knocked his world out of alignment and he had to take a step backward to right himself. Inej reacted on instinct, clutched his shoulders to make sure he did not fall.

“I’m not strong enough,” Kaz blurted out, hoping that if he spoke, he could force the feeling of rotting flesh out of his mind. “I’m not as strong as you,”

“That’s not true,” Inej ran her fingers across his chest and down to his waist. “My weakness just wasn’t visible, yours is,” she unbuttoned his vest, Kaz hadn’t even noticed and the implication of that made his stomach do a somersault. “When someone touches you, you are present, aware.” She continued her pattern, hands going back to his wrist, making sure he could anticipate where her next move was going to be. “Me? I disappeared,” Kaz caught her eye, and threw his thought away. He refused to pity her, he knew she wouldn’t want that. “I looked calm and collected, but no one knew what it was doing to me, to shake their hand or have their arms around me,”

She smiled at him, unrestrained and brilliant, and he looked down to realize he had his hand upon her waist, her arms wrapped around his in kind. This felt like a victory, it felt like a curse. Against the roughness of her jacket, his hand began to tremble. She stepped away, he didn’t want her to, but it was exactly what he needed.

“Your tie,” Inej stated, and Kaz could have worshipped her right then, for understanding that if she had brought her hand up to his neck, he might not survive the evening. He undid his tie, though the tightness in his throat did not relent. He unbuttoned his shirt, hoping that the action would steady his hand. He was feeling light-headed but he wasn’t drowning...yet. He wiped the sweat from his brow, ran a hand through his hair, forced his anxiety out with a breath. He had never gotten this far with her before.

Inej repeated the rhythm: wrist, elbow, shoulders. Her hand was Jordie’s hand, her flesh was Jordie’s flesh. His chest, his waist. The waters started rising, coming in with the strength of a flood. Inej could sense the change in him immediately, “Tell me about the tattoo,” Inej said, he did not want her hand on him anymore, he needed it to stay so he could keep trying. He knew why she was asking, she knew he needed a distraction, and he chuckled darkly because she did not know that this particular question serveed an opposite purpose.

“Not tonight,” But someday .

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,”

Her hand has been in his for seconds, minutes, days, long enough that Kaz let himself hope that one day he could be rid of this. This ghost of his brother, the phantom of his skin, slipping underneath his hand, his chest, his face. Carefully, never breaking eye contact, Inej brought his hand up to her lips, Kaz focused on his breathing, on the moonlight spilling across Inej’s plait. Kaz tasted salt on his tongue, no not salt, iron. His vision went blurry, and he lost the shape of Inej as a result. This was unbearable, but he was desperate for more, it was easier this way. Feeling her lips against his skin, instead of her skin beneath his lips. She pressed another kiss to the creases of his palm, to his wrist. This felt nothing like a corpse, but the traces of her lips burned like ice, like water.

“I never asked you,” Kaz began, relaxing the tension in his jaw “Are you okay with this?”

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to be doing,” she whispered against his forearm, lips brushing the dark ink of his Dregs tattoo. He flexed the hand that held his cane, releasing some of the stiffness in his knuckles. She continued her familiar path across his body, through the smoke of Reaper’s Barge Kaz noticed she took care to avoid the R tattooed to his bicep when she kissed him there.

His whole body was alight, electrified, dying. He could smell death in his nose, he could feel the warmth of Inej’s body wash over him. He was tired, he was treading water, knowing any minute he could drown. He saw Jordie’s face, swollen, purple, eyes cloudy, No. He thought of Inej, of her laughter, her smile, of her voice whispering his name. Kaz Rietveld and Kaz Brekker were at war with one another, and right now, he wasn’t sure who would win. He should tell her to stop, but he didn’t want her to.

Inej took another step in, her hands balling into fists. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to be doing . She had just told him that, but he saw her now, saw how tightly she carried herself. He’d been so caught up in his own head, he hadn’t realized she’d been trying to shed her armor too. She leaned in, and Kaz was back in a hotel bathroom, she paused mere inches from his chest, sucked in one shaking breath, and ran her lips against his collar bone.

The current pulled him under; Kaz Rietveld had won again. Sudden, uncontrollable panic seized within his chest, snapping the leash to which he tied his weaknesses. They ran him over, all snarls and teeth and claws, turning him into something wild and furious. Before he could control himself, before he was even fully conscious of what was happening, he had flung his arms outward, pushing Inej away from him. “Stop,”

Inej, working to quiet her own demons had not been expecting this outburst from Kaz, she lost her footing, stumbling backward, and though she did not fall, Ghafa’s never fall , she did slam the back of her knee into the hard metal of Kaz’s bed frame. Inej cried out, more out of shock than out of pain. Desperation, horror, fury, regret pulled Kaz further under, the room was spinning, the moonlight hurt his eyes. Kaz caught himself on the edge of his desk, fumbling frantically for the waste basket he kept there, the cold metal of it in his hands bringing the briefest moment of comfort before he was vomiting up his dinner.

“Kaz?” Inej’s voice was sturdy, grounding, calm, but he could not turn to face her.

Inej

Kaz Brekker had gone by many names, and Inej had heard them all, whispered fearfully through the streets of Ketterdam by cowardly men. Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. Inej had spent so many nights on this city’s rooftops, seen only by the stars, listening in on the conversations that twisted up to her like crow feathers in the wind. She knew what people thought of him, he held a place amongst the most dangerous and feared of men. To some he was a bogeyman, to all he was a threat. And though she had seen him do terrible, violent things it still sent a sharp bolt of surprise crackling through her body whenever she heard the word “monster” following his name.

That monster stood before her now, leaning against his desk. Trusting her enough to turn away, to leave himself defenseless in her presence. Not trusting her enough to show his face. He was sweating, and in the light that spilled from the lamp upon his desk, Inej could see his hands twitching with the slightest tremor. She knew he was slipping, knew he was trying desperately to pull his armor on. But she was not here for Dirtyhands, and she had no time tonight for bastards. She thought about those names, the truths they carried with them. Could they really be titles for the man she was watching now? A boy who could not look her in the eye? No, the person that stood, half naked and shaking in this tiny little room, was neither of those things. This, she realized, this was simply

“Kaz,” she tried again.

“Leave,” and if she had known him any less she would have thought that he was serious.

“No,”

“Inej,” She was never sure how he could do that, how he could make her feel coveted and worshipped just by saying her name “ please ?” and his voice became a quiet, broken thing.

“No.” She said again, gentle as the breeze “I will not leave you, not like this,”

“I don’t want to see you,” it wasn’t a lie,

“You did great, Kaz, you’re making progress, ” and so was she, though she wasn’t sure Kaz realized it.

“Inej, get out,” he hissed, as if it hurt him to say the words.

“Why?”

He stiffened, and she bit back a smirk he hadn’t been expecting that . “I-” he hung his head.

She knew he didn’t have a reason, not one that he would admit to anyway “Is it because you don’t want me to see you like this? Because you’re worried you can’t give me what I want?” She tried to dampen the delight that bubbled in her chest, when she watched blotches of red blush paint the back of Kaz’s neck and spill down across his shoulder blades. “Is it because you feel ashamed?”

Kaz screamed with a rage she had seen up close only twice, a wild, guttural thing. When he got like this, destruction usually followed in his wake. As if on cue, Kaz slammed his hands down on the table, sweeping everything that rested there- every half drawn blueprint, ledger, and plan -onto the floor. His lantern tumbled with it as did a small wind up dog toy Kaz always kept sitting at his desk. The force of their impact caused both to shatter, sending pieces of glass and metal skidding across the hard wood floors. The paperwork took longer to fall, floating gently in the air around him like snow.

Kaz finally turned to face her, fury exploding behind his eyes. He wanted a fight, but Inej would never give him that satisfaction. When the dust settled, the anger that had possessed him had begun to burn low, confusion taking control of his posture and his brow when he finally saw Inej.

She had crossed her arms and tried her best to look bored. Based on his reaction it may have been working. “You can’t scare me away, Kaz,” It was the wrong thing to say, but it’s what he needed to hear.

The fire that flickered behind his eyes turned to ice, “I am the Bastard of the Barrel,” Kaz spit, stalking toward her, making sure to punctuate his words with the tapping of his cane against the wood. “I brought down Pekka Rollins, I conned Jan Van Eck, I broke into the Ice Court and made it out alive. Men run when they see me coming, parents tell their children I’ll steal them away in the night if they do not behave.” Kaz only stopped when her back was to a wall. He wanted her to feel cornered, he wanted her to feel trapped. On any other night, that may have worked, but she knew this was an act, and she had maneuvered herself so she was near the window, and he hadn’t seemed to notice.  “I scare who I damn well please,”

Inej could not hold back anymore, she hadn’t meant to do it, but she started to laugh. “That’s good,” Kaz blinked in surprise, his posture shifting, his grip loosening on his cane. She took a step forward, he took a step back. “I can see how that would work on most people. But I know you Kaz. Sure, you took down Pekka and Jan Van Eck...with help,” she took another step forward, reveling in Kaz’s retreat. “But you’ve also fainted in a carriage, nearly drowned in Djel’s river, and got embarrassed when Jesper’s Dad caught you two in a fist fight.” Kaz ducked his head to hide the redness rushing to his cheeks. She took another step forward, he ceded his territory. “You got good at palming cards and picking pockets not because you planned for a life of crime, but because you like magic tricks . You’ve lost a hat in every corner of Ketterdam,” Kaz lost his footing, his knees buckled beneath him, sending him tumbling onto his bed. With nowhere left for him to go, Inej smirked, and leaned in just far enough so he could hear her whisper. “And, when you wake up in the morning, your hair sticks up to one side. Jesper and I pretend not to notice, but we both think it’s adorable,”

Inej spun gracefully on her heel, gliding back towards the window, because she was not cruel and did not want Kaz to suffer...she didn’t want Kaz to suffer much . Kaz glowered at her, but seemed to otherwise have calmed. “You know,” Inej said when the silence grew too heavy. “I’ve been afraid of a lot of people since I came to Ketterdam,”

“Even Jesper?” Kaz asked eventually, she could tell from the cadence of his voice he was exhausted.

“Especially Jesper” Inej trusted Jesper with her life, he had brought so much chaos and joy into her world. But he was kind and charming in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Inej had had too many clients come to her, all smiles and compassion. Jesper scared her because she knew what kind and charming men could do. Kaz flinched and looked away.

“But not me?”

“No,” Inej wanted to touch his cheek, to smooth the worry that lined his forehead “Never you,”

Slowly, deliberately, Kaz stood. Inej’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes met his. He looked paler than usual, and maybe a little green, but his hands were still, his stance was steadier. He had locked his thoughts away, no emotion showing on his face, but there was a shine in his eyes Inej had seen before, when Kaz was trying to let go of hope. He quirked a single eyebrow at her, a challenge.

“I’ve been scared for you,” she admitted. “I’ve been scared to disappoint you, I’ve been scared of what it would do to me to lose you.” Inej stepped forward, already knowing what would happen, knowing that Kaz, having slipped away once already, would take a step back. But instead he stood rooted in place, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his cane.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never looked at me the way everyone else does.” She considered the weight of the words on her tongue. “One day at The Menagare would have been enough to show me what kind of place Ketterdam truly was, and I spent a year inside it’s walls. I’ve collapsed beneath a million broken promises, but never yours. I’ve heard a million gentle lies, but never from you. I have felt a million….unwanted hands,” Inej wanted to shrink away into the shadows, but she refused to show her weakness, she refused to look away. Like magnets they were pulling toward each other until they were sharing the same air, until they were standing as each other’s equals in the center of the room. Inej held out her hand, not a demand, not a question, but a wish. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest when Kaz, without a moment’s hesitation, took her hand. He clenched his jaw, and drew a soft line across her palm with his thumb, it was a certainty, it was a promise. “But never yours,”

Kaz cleared his throat “I haven’t been scared of anyone since Jordie died,”

“Not even Jesper?” Inej teased, because she didn’t know what else to say.

Kaz bit back a smile “Never Jesper,”

“Not even me?” It was another joke, because she’d wanted to see more of that smile.

His face fell into something powerful and serious “I’ve always been scared of you, Inej,” she knew how much it must have taken for him to have admitted it. “From the moment you snuck up on me with bells on,”

“Really?” she could not hold the joy she felt at bay, it spread throughout her body, warming her all the way down to her toes.

Kaz nodded.

“But I was nothing then,”

“You have always been something.” Kaz corrected. “Back then you were Silence,”

“And now?” her eyes kept falling to his lips.

“You…” Kaz continued, leaning down, sending Inej’s heart into a frenzy she was worried she could never tame “should be going home,”

Inej scoffed, Kaz’s walls slipped down just long enough to let a small chuckle pass his lips. She would tuck that away in her memory, a look into the boy he could have been, a minute of vulnerability all for her. “That’s not fair! I told you mine!” If it had been Jesper standing in front of her, Inej would have backhanded his shoulder. But this was Kaz and he had done a lot tonight, she didn’t want to push her luck. Especially when she was enjoying this feeling of his hand in hers, she wasn’t looking to ruin it. “Come on Kaz,” she whispered, “why are you scared of me?”

He chewed his lip, and she could see the gears turning in his head, the debate he was conducting. Should he tell her the truth? Or keep his feelings a mystery and send her away. She was getting tired of being sent away. “Because I trust you.” Kaz said. “Because, you make me want to tell you everything. We deal in secrets, Inej, because we know that information can be more valuable than money. You’ve learned my patterns, you know my mind, you could unravel everything I have built with a single word to the right person,”

It was true, but it hurt. She pulled her hand from his, and regretted it. “You think that I would?”

“No,” he said it so fast, so sure that it knocked the air out of her lungs, it tore her voice from her throat. “And that is why you scare me. Because I know that thought has never crossed your mind.” He tugged gently at the bottom of her braid, twisting it around in his fingers. This was a system they had worked out months ago, for when Kaz wanted to be physical but the feeling of her skin was too much. “You are kinder and stronger than I will ever be and I am scared that-” he dropped her braid, placed both his hands atop his cane, and broke eye contact. “I am scared that you will finally see yourself for everything you are and know I am not worthy of your time or loyalty.”

“Kaz,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say. Because she couldn’t say I love you . The tension in the room, the cord that pulled the two of them together, was severed by the tolling of a clock.

Kaz broke first, eyes skirting to the city stretched out below them. “Goodnight, Inej,” he whispered, his voice rougher than usual.

“Goodnight,” she managed, slipping out of his window and vanishing into the night. Kaz watched her go until he could not feel her presence any longer, then he turned, and started picking up his mess. When Kaz woke the next morning, his heart stuttered in his chest. Sitting in the middle of his desk was a brand new wind up dog toy and laying next to it, reflecting the early morning sun was a geranium made out of glass.

[splintergirl13]

So here is a little head cannon I thought of while reading your fan fic.

What if herobrine never had/celebrated his birthday so he forgot when it was, so Steve and Alex pick a day and celebrate his birthday with him. (P.s. sorry I have horrific grammer)

I liked this idea so much I made a little drabble under the read more :3 I hope it is worthy of such an great headcanon! Thank you so much for the ask! It fills me with joy to hear that people are thinking about my story lol <3. And don't worry. Grammar is hard and doesn't make any sense. I feel your pain

Before we dive in: this takes place pretty earlier into Steve and Brine becoming friends. So they are just starting to pine. Not in a relationship yet. Alex and Brine are still a little wary of each other but have come to accept that they are stuck with each other.

I'd say this is rated teen for just some small strong language lol

-

The Birthday Brine

-

It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon. Too nice to spend down in the mines. But a little too warm to do any strenuous activities.

So Alex and Steve decided to go on down to the small river they frequented on days like today. A secluded area where the water pooled deep enough to swim. And, of course, Herobrine tagged along. As was becoming more of the norm these days.

Steve was lying comfortably in the shade of a few trees on the bank of the river. Legs in the water; small waves lapped up to his knees as the water went by. Arms crossed behind his head. His shirt was off and laid over his eyes, shutting out any of the light that filtered through the leaves. Not really dozing off, but close to it.

Herobrine was similarly relaxing. He lay on his belly; balanced precariously on a nearby tree that had fallen over the river. Looking like a big cat lounging about in the direct sun. Soaking up the rays. One hand was draped down to the side, touching the cool water.

Alex was the only one fully in the river. She was a little upstream, floating on her back. She had taken off her pants, leaving them on the shore, and let her long green shirt cover her lower half. Every once in a while she would swim back to her original place as the current took her down towards Herobrine.

The trio had been chatting absentmindedly. Talking about anything, really. Steve ranted humorously about his pickaxe making a squeaking sound. Alex discussed way too many of the current happenings in town. Even Herobrine brought up that a dragonfly had landed on his shoulder. Which had the trio all staring for a bit before it flew off and they went back to their current positions.

It wasn't until a certain question came to Alex’s mind that the peace of the scene was disturbed.

"Hey Sparky." The adventurer asked. "...How old are you?"

Herobrine took a while to answer. Seeming to think through the question slowly. Finally he asked without opening his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Alex shrugged, swimming a little.

The demon shifted. Now peaking over to look at Steve. It was like the miner could tell that he was being looked at because he lifted his shirt to look back questioningly.

Herobrine spoke up. "When was the last time I respawned? Four months ago?"

Steve frowned. "Yes. More like three. You fell through a roof, remember?"

"Right, right." Herobrine moved his hand up out of the water. "Terribly made and rusty old structure. Glad it forced a respawn. Tetanus is not fun even with healing powers."

"Why is this relevant?" Alex asked impatiently.

"I'm 28." Herobrine said immediately.

Alex sat up in the water. Causing a bit of a ruckus amongst some fish that had gotten close. "No you're not!"

"Yes I am." Herobrine turned his attention to her. She shuddered ever so slightly under his scrutinizing stare. "Every time I die, I respawn back to the same age at which I turned immortal."

Alex crossed her hands over her chest. "Okay, well that's only technically. I meant, like, if you count ALL the years you've been alive."

"I have no fucking clue, Alex." Herobrine rolled his head to the otherside of the tree to ignore her. Yet continued to talk. "Time loses all meaning when you're immortal. Not to mention I was trapped in the nether for most of that time. So it's even harder to tell."

"What's your best guess?" Steve asked, now curious as well.

And the head came back around. Looking at Steve. The demon wouldn't ignore the miner. He bit his lip, eyes trailing towards the water. "I dunno... maybe a few centuries... a millennia or so..."

"Old." Steve clarified. Seeing that the demon was struggling a little.

"Yeah... old." Herobrine scowled.

"So, what, do we have to, like, wait until you live a year to celebrate your birthday?" Alex giggled. "No wonder you don't remember it. It would never be your birthday based on that criteria."

Herobrine scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah." Steve added, putting the shirt back over his eyes. "Come to think of it, when is your birthday, Brine?"

"You want to know the exact date I was born?" Herobrine sat up now, clearly confused. "Fuck... I don't know. I didn't even keep track of days back then. I just survived. It wasn't until I met... my brother that we talked about days. And he was able to do some weird 'code calculation' as he called it to figure out my true age. But we didn't really care about that. None of us counted in the aether. None of us wanted to count. When you have endless time you tend not to care. It's a depressing chore."

"So none of you celebrated your birthday?" Alex asked.

"Why would you celebrate your birth?" Herobrine growled. "Existence is a curse."

"That's why we have to celebrate!" Alex exclaimed. "It helps us mortals to forget about our fleeting existence."

"Yeah!" Steve enthusiastically raised a fist to the sky in agreement.

"Like the aether needed another reason to celebrate..." Herobrine grumbled, flopping back down on the tree. "The amount of bullshit dances I had to get dressed up for was astronomical."

"So you really have never had a birthday, huh?" Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"Nope." Herobrine said, popping the p and settling back on the tree. Thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But Steve and Alex had other plans.

"Bro you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You think we have enough time today?"

"Sure why not? We were already planning on going into town together."

"Then we better hurry."

"What are you two talking about?" Herobrine muttered. The siblings were getting out of the water and putting back on their clothes.

"We're going to throw you a birthday party!" Steve smiled over at him.

Herobrine almost fell off his branch.

"W-what? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, if you don't know what day your birthday is, it might as well be any day. And since we are already all together and don't have any plans for the rest of the evening... why not?"

Herobrine teleported off his tree and stood next to the two. "You really don't need to-"

"Too late, it's happening." Alex smiled. Starting to walk off. Not putting on her shoes as she walked through the increasingly tall grass.

"Go wait in the nether and come back around sunset!" Steve pushed on his back excitedly. As if he could shove him through a portal that wasn't there.

"Why?"

"We are gonna surprise you!"

"Oh. Yippee. Surprise." Herobrine did not mask his unenthusiasm.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Steve said as he stopped pushing and went to go join Alex.

Herobrine was left alone and very confused as to what had just happened. He blinked up at the setting sun and winced. He wouldn't know the correct time in the nether. So he decided to go back to his tree branch and relax until the time came. He had no idea what was in store for him. But he didn't try to think too hard about it. If he didn't like it he could always teleport away.

All this talk of aether and age had his head buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. He tried to will them away and think of nothing instead. Watching as the river flowed beneath him. The dragonfly landed back on his hands.

-

It was just after sunset when Herobrine was walking up to Steve's small house and knocking on the door. Steve was adamant about him knocking. As Herobrine had the tendency to just teleport into a location, unannounced. There was the sound of muffled talking as well as a wonderful smell of something cooking in the furnace.

He heard the miner walk towards the door, he recognized his footsteps easily. Much different than Alex’s.

Steve cracked open the door. "Herobrine, you have perfect timing! We are just finishing up."

Herobrine tried to move forward but Steve closed the door more. He smiled, shyly. "Er. You gotta close your eyes."

"... Why?"

Steve smiled wider. "It's all part of the process."

So Herobrine huffed and closed his eyes. Steve took him by the hand. Leading him inside. Herobrine could feel his heartbeat where they connected. The miner was excited. So Herobrine was excited.

He was led into the house and then Steve stopped and walked over to join where he could sense Alex.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Herobrine stood there with his eyes closed. Face oozing confusion.

"Open your eyes now, Brine." Steve whispered loudly to him.

"Oh." And he did. He blinked and took in the sight.

The inside of the house was decorated with a few colored strings on the ceiling and what seemed to be little torches everywhere else. It was very simple and yet very pretty.

"Do you like it?" Alex asked.

"We didn't have too much time to decorate so we made due with what we had." Steve said. "Probably not as fancy as your aether parties."

"No." Herobrine smiled. "But I like this better." The aether parties were always decorated with too much. This was nice and made Herobrine feel cozy.

Alex gestured to the table, patting the chair to sit down. "Since it's pretty late we figured we'd just do a birthday dinner. Steve said you would eat if we made you food."

Herobrine nodded. Glad he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. He wasn't the biggest fan of eating. Steve had been reintroducing it to him slowly. The miner was an excellent cook.

"Good!" Alex smiled. Steve sat next to Herobrine at the table. "I handled dinner and Steve handled the most important part of a birthday, the dessert!"

"It all smells nice." Herobrine commented politely. It did. He was actually excited to eat.

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. Preparing plates for them all. Steve and Herobrine shared a look. Both smiling, somewhat uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. It didn't last long as Alex came out with two plates, setting it down in front of them.

The meal consisted of roasted corn, slathered in butter, some sort of shredded pork on bread with some sweet sauce, and a cold potato salad. Steve instantly dug in. Probably hungry from all the work they had been doing. Herobrine waited for Alex to return with her own plate before starting to pick at the food. It wasn't long before he was eating more sloppily than Steve. Alex apologized, saying she wanted to make something more special like a smoked biscuit but Herobrine wasn't sure why she was sorry. It was all delicious. And Herobrine found himself wanting to eat the entire plate. It was the perfect meal on the warm night.

The house was filled with the delightful sounds of eating. None of them talked very much. Not needing to. Just enjoying each other’s company. And the food! They were all very invested in the food.

Once they were done, Herobrine was tempted to ask for more. But he remembered that there was still dessert to eat. He started to try to clean up his plate. But Steve stopped him immediately. "Ah, ah. No dishes when it's your birthday."

"Hmm. This birthday business keeps getting better." Herobrine smirked at him.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates filled with two generous slices of homemade chocolate cake.

He set them down in front of Alex and his own seats. "We have a special slice for you, Herobrine. Hold on."

Steve rushed away and walked slowly back with a similar piece of cake. But this one had a very tiny torch stuck in the middle of it. Herobrine blinked. Huh. Strange.

"It's a candle." Steve explained. "It's a tradition to have some on your cake. We only had this old one." He set the on fire cake in front of him. Herobrine enjoyed the fire flare. "Usually you have a candle for every year you've been alive."

"But that would've set the house on fire." Alex snickered.

Herobrine rolled his eyes and tried to grab his fork. But Alex stopped him. "Wait! We have to sing to you!"

"Er, no thanks." That seemed silly. He did not want to be sung to.

Steve made a face. "I don't like that part either. I think we should skip it."

"We have to! It's tradition!" Alex wrapped her elbow around Steve’s neck. "Come on, Stevie. One time!"

"Alright. Alright." He caved easily. And they began.

Herobrine sat awkwardly as the two sang a little song. Saying his name. Herobrine had never heard Steve sing. It was nice. He had a pleasant voice. He thought the man should sing more. He hummed a lot but never truly sang.

Once they were done. Alex said. "Now you make a wish and blow out the candle."

"A wish? Wish for what?"

"For anything." Steve added. "But you have to wish in your head. And don't tell anyone or your wish won't come true."

"Like a curse?"

"Yeah kinda. But it's just for fun."

The demon chewed on his lip. Seeming to think about it. He nodded eventually. "Okay. I've made my wish."

"Now blow out the candle to complete the spell." Alex joked. Steve nudged her.

Herobrine looked at the small torch on the cake and willed the fire away. It went out.

Alex and Steve stared. Alex giggled. "Guess there's more than one way to skin an ocelot."

"Why would you-" Herobrine blinked.

"It's an expression." Steve laughed, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his piece of cake. "Ignore her and dig in while the cake is still warm."

Herobrine did, setting the small torch- candle aside and picking up his fork to eat. The cake looked moist. Fresh. And smelled absolutely delicious. His mouth was watering before he even put the treat in his mouth.

When he took a bite he almost moaned. "H-holy fuck." He quickly took another bite.

Alex giggled. "Never had a Steve-made cake have you?"

"Steve, you should stop cooking everything and just make cake from now on." Herobrine had almost finished his piece already. It was just so damn good. He couldn't stop.

"Then it wouldn't be special." Steve chuckled. Looking happy that they both seemed to be enjoying his cake.

"Can I have more?" Herobrine asked, frosting definitely smeared all over his face, unabashedly.

Steve and Alex howled at that. The demon just looked so different from how they normally saw him. It was nice. And also hilarious.

Herobeine got a second slice and sat back, looking full. The demon didn't usually eat so it was a lot all at once. Totally worth it though.

"Present time!" Alex jumped up from the table as Steve moved the dishes into the kitchen.

"Present time?" Herobrine parroted.

"You get presents on your birthday!" Alex walked over to grab two things that had been set aside on a coffee table. "From everyone who comes to the party."

Alex handed Steve something and walked back to the table to give Herobrine a rectangle that looked like a book wrapped in paper. Herobrine took it confused. "Er, thanks?" He held it in his hands.

"You gotta open it dude!" Alex said excitedly.

"Open it?"

"Yeah tear open the paper!"

"Oh." Herobrine, a demon of destruction, ironically opened the book very carefully. Not wanting to damage it.

He held the book up once it was unwrapped. It was, indeed, a book. Not too hard to guess correctly.

"It's a book of modern day phrases." Alex explained. Tapping the cover. She smirked. "I know that you have some trouble with some of our more modern hip lingo."

Herobrine lifted an eyebrow at her. He flipped to a random page. "There's more than one way to skin an ocelot? Oh. I get your 'joke' now."

"See. You're learning already." She snickered. Steve smiled too.

Herobrine looked confused. But not unappreciative. He waved his hand, tucking the book away into his inventory. "Er, thanks. I will read the rest later."

"No problem!" She giggled. She then pushed Steve forward. "Go ahead, your turn."

Steve had a paper package tied up in butcher's twine behind his back. He coughed and walked forward, handing Herobrine the parcel.

The demon took it. Knowing what to do now, he tore into the paper. Revealing what was inside.

He paused when he realized what it was after pulling all the paper off and letting it float to the ground.

"It's... your cloak." Herobrine said. Not giving away any emotion. Steve seemed to droop a little. Expecting him to be a little happier. Alex nudged the miner. They shared a look. Steve rolled his eyes. He walked closer to the demon, touching the cloak in his hands.

"I knew it would already fit you. And there wasn't enough time to get you a new one made. I just know how much you like to borrow it from me when it gets colder." Steve ran his fingers along the cloak. Pointing out some stitching on the green material. "I sewed up all the holes so it won't be as drafty. And-" He tapped the button that held the cloak together. "I replaced the old latch with a golden one I got from town today. I know you said you like to wear a little gold in the nether for piglin respect or... whatever." The miner let go of the cloak and backed up, rubbing his head awkwardly.

Herobrine stared at the green gloak. Rubbing the material in his fingers.

"If... if you don't like-"

"I love it." Herobrine almost whispered. Sounding so genuine it made Steve blush and Alex smile. "It's perfect."

"O-oh." Steve scratched his head again. "Good. I'm glad." He smiled, looking away. Desperately trying to hide his blush. He had gone bright red. And Herobrine wasn't helping.

The demon stood instantly and put the cloak around his body. He had worn it before. But it looked different now. Like it was his now. It was truly his.

Herobrine looked up at Steve. "This is... the greatest gift I've ever been given." He didn't smile but his glowing eyes said it all. He was absolutely telling the truth. "Thank you, Steven."

The miner stared back. Smiling to the side and tilting his head. Embarrassed but screaming on the inside in happiness.

Alex had to butt in. Not liking the way the two were looking at each other and getting a little protective of Steve. "Pfft. Thanks a lot there, Briney boy. Glad my gift meant nothing."

Herobrine blinked. Processing the words. And then realized. "Oh, no, sorry Alex. Thank you as well."

"Yeah whatever." Alex nudged him with her fist, walking past him. She then let out a yawn. "Well. I think I'm all birthday partied out. Mind if I crash on your couch, Stevie? It's too late to walk home."

"Sure I'll get you some blankets." Steve mimicked the yawn. His eyes looked tired. They did do a lot to put the party together for him. They deserved a rest. "Happy Birthday, Brine."

"Thank you." Herobrine nodded. "Thank you both. This was... enjoyable."

"See our traditions aren't so bad." Alex said, flopping down on the couch.

"I do believe I've judged it too early." Herobrine nodded. "You do this every year?"

"Yep. And you get to do the planning and gift giving to us when it's our birthdays. No party is exactly the same." Alex nodded. "I think planning is actually more fun than celebrating your own birthday."

"Oh. Well I look forward to that. You will have to remind me when the time comes. Time is... difficult for me."

"Of course, dude." Steve produced some blankets from the closet. Herobrine sensed it was time to make his leave. He headed for the door.

"Thank you again." He said a little awkwardly. "I will uh, see you both tomorrow."

"Sounds good!" "Bye!" The siblings said.

And with Herobrine out the door. Steve and Alex looked at each other.

"I think that went well." Steve said.

"I think you owe me money for not making a single birthday suit joke." Alex said back. He threw the blankets over her head as she giggled.

"Goodnight Alex!" He went to his bedroom, trying to hide his blush. "Put out the candles before you sleep."

"I'm just saying, Stevie! That would've been a better gift if you-"

"Goodnight Alex!!"

Herobrine stood just outside the door. He wiggled his shoulders a little. Feeling the soft weight of the cloth around his shoulders. He smiled. Feeling warm inside and out. And teleported off.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 13

Chapter title: Finale

Word count: about 4200 words

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this fic. From the ones who were here at the beginning to the ones who joined in along the way, and even to the ones who are just reading this for the first time now: thank you! I really appreciate your support and willingness to read all about this idea of mine. I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

Warnings for nightmares and vague descriptions of violence, just in case.

First  | Previous 

...

In the end, another week or so was needed to finally get everything sorted out with G.U.N.- seven days which began to feel less and less stressful and more like an extended sleepover as time flew by. Eventually, though, the organization was shut down and most of their contacts closed off, leaving the country as safe as it could ever be for Teams Dark and Sonic to return.

Even as the former team began to move back into Club Rouge, setting up what little personal artifacts they had left (the suitcase they’d had was being shipped back to them from the motel in Central City where they’d left it), the club itself remained dark and empty, the three residents living above it still too wary to feel ready to reopen. Rouge, Shadow, and Omega spent about four days just living off their considerable savings and watching TV, attempting to get used to a somewhat normal life again after so long without it. 

Rouge got to enjoy those late mornings she’d been hoping for, Omega was able to do his favorite activities without taking responsibility for the team anymore, and Shadow…

...there were good times and bad times, with him.

He would often find himself utterly at peace in some moments, cooking a meal after insisting that Rouge couldn’t eat takeout all the time as his two best friends shouted wildly at their newest favorite show, and he couldn’t help but smile at all the cheerfulness that surrounded him. But at the same time, he woke up screaming nearly every night, unable to stop seeing Rouge and Omega dragged off to an unknown fate by G.U.N., or worse, seeing them lifeless and sprawled on the floor, unable to do anything to save them at all….

Both his friends would always come into his room (they’d actually started sleeping in there now to help him better) and hold him until the panic dissipated, assuring him that they were alright and that there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

This, however, wasn’t entirely true just yet.

One night, a would-be attacker (one of the last remnants of G.U.N.’s influence guiding them, most likely) picked the lock on the door and entered the club, sneaking across the ground floor. Rouge heard them first with her hyper-sensitive ears, whispering the situation quickly to Shadow. Suddenly, before she could stop him, he darted silently to the door, prepared to fight if necessary. The bat could defend herself just fine, of course, but he was still very much on edge.

It turned out that he didn’t need to worry, though, because as the intruder began to creep up the two flights of stairs, they glanced to their left on the darkened first floor. And spotted an absolutely terrifying pair of glowing red eyes staring at them from the darkness.

That alone would have been enough to make them scream and leave rapidly (they weren’t by any means as trained as some of G.U.N.’s other contacts) but Omega saw fit to point two charging laser cannons at them, too, and quite honestly even Sonic would’ve been surprised at the speed with which that intruder ran.

After that, Rouge decided that she’d had enough relaxing for a while and that she needed some structure in her life, so she opened up the club again and started it working (albeit on a limited basis, she wasn’t quite prepared for a full schedule yet). The well-known hotspot had been sorely missed, as evidenced by the large number of customers- and tips. The bat was delighted to see some of her favorite regulars again, and they were more than happy to accept the shortened hours just so long as it stayed open.

Eventually, though, as it became clear that the bat was fully prepared to just sweep the stress of this adventure under the rug and go back to daily life as it was before, she ended up subjected to quite a few discussions from Omega, Knuckles and even Sonic about her...habits. They were all too aware of how much strain she’d been under during their time on the run, not to mention all of the verbal attacks and physical stress she’d had to deal with beforehand. At first, she managed to brush it off, insisting that she was perfectly fine and that this sort of thing wasn’t necessary at all.

Omega had cornered her one day in her room though, with only a single sentence to say: “Think about the example you’re setting for Shadow.”

Rouge’s ears drooped slightly in guilt as she realized just how much a) Shadow based some of his behaviors off of her and b) how vehemently he had opposed the idea of therapy when it was first mentioned. 

She sighed quietly. “Just one. For Shadow. And nothing’s going to come of it, you hear me?”

Two days later, she walked into the office calmly, her cool business face on and her skepticism high. The therapist she met with was young, friendly, and quite earnest and eager to help her in any way they could. As they listened to the story of her life, though, their face twisted in concern. “I understand you enjoy your job and the risks that come with it...but all those awful things people have said to you- that’s terrible!”

Rouge shrugged her shoulders. “It’s part of the job, y’know? Just have to grin and bear it.”

They looked down at their desk quietly. “How long have you been ‘grinning and bearing it’ for, exactly?”

“....a while.”

Rouge left the office after a little more talking with a distinct feeling of unease in her chest. She drove home quietly, with none of the usual music or radio that she liked on. The bat remained absolutely silent as she entered the house, too, which was the first major sign to both of her friends that something was wrong.

Shadow and Omega appeared at her side quickly, asking her what had happened and what was wrong (with quite a few threats of violence to the person who had upset her) which unfortunately had the opposite effect to what they were hoping for and instead just made her eyes start to water a little.

“Rouge, what’s going on?” Shadow asked, worried, as he pulled her over to the couch. 

She managed to calm herself relatively quickly, and eventually found the words to explain how  the biting words she heard every day cut deeper than she let on. How she took on mountains of emotional stress because she was the leader, and the oldest, and it was her responsibility. 

The bat quickly tried to add that neither of them needed to worry about this, it was fine, that she was still the oldest and she’d accepted that responsibility and she could work out the stress on her own. As Omega began to insist on providing various objections to every last one of those arguments, Shadow vanished, only to return within a couple of minutes with a bag of mystery supplies.

“Today’s your off day, right?” he asked, with a determined look in his eyes.

“Yes, hon.” she said quietly. “I should probably go do the shopping at some point-”

“After therapy? No way.” Omega declared, putting a hand on her head and pushing her back down onto the couch after she’d started to get up. 

“I’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Shadow said calmly. “I remember you haven’t been to the spa in a long time, and even if we can’t make you an appointment this late, we can still do something else.”

Omega pulled a packaged ‘hydrating and exfoliating face mask’ from the bag, holding it by the corner and looking as confused as he could possibly get. “I have no idea what this does, but if you like it then that’s fine, I suppose.” he said, handing it back to Shadow gingerly.

“Aww, guys, you don’t have to-” she insisted, disliking the idea of them having to do any work regarding her own emotional burdens.

“Yes we do.” they said in sync. 

“And this needs to be at least a biweekly occurrence, too.” Omega declared.

“A Rouge day?” Shadow asked. “I agree.”

The bat protested weakly, but allowed herself to be dragged upstairs, and various soaps with relaxing scents to be placed in her hands. “And here’s a bath bomb. Or, uh, three.” The hybrid looked sheepish. “I don’t know which kind you like.”

“And do not come out until you are sufficiently relaxed.” Omega ordered her, before pushing her into the bathroom gently.

Rouge gave a quiet yet fond sigh as she looked down at the various self-care items in her hands. Those two could really be stubborn sometimes, whether about fighting or friendship.

Quickly, she swung open the door and gave them both a hug, then vanished back inside the bathroom before either could react.

The rest of the day was spent taking care of Rouge, whether it was Shadow painting her nails or Omega agreeing to watch her favorite show that night (even if he couldn’t seem to understand why people in drama shows didn’t just do what they wanted instead of agonizing about it so much). That definitely wasn’t the end of it, though.

Eventually, she managed to go back for a few more sessions just to straighten things out and figure out how to care for herself better in the long run. It didn’t hurt, either, that anytime Shadow or Omega caught someone insulting her (and her ignoring it), whether it be for her looks or her interest in a store’s jewelry, they would verbally tear into the person with such fury that Rouge was nearly embarrassed…

...but not quite. It felt good to be looked out for, she had to admit, and they were showing how much they cared about her in their own way.

It turned out that Shadow was showing it in another way, too, albeit one she didn’t notice at first. One day, as she checked through her finances, the bat realized that her bank account had begun to grow too quickly to be normal. When she checked through her balance, she discovered that someone was adding mystery payments every Friday.

Rouge found out why one afternoon when she came back from shopping early to discover Shadow standing in the living room, pulling off some sort of light green shirt and draping it over the back of a chair as he moved to the kitchen (probably for some coffee beans).

“Something you need to tell me, hon?” she asked, and was only slightly surprised when he yelled in shock, hands crackling with Chaos energy before he realized it was her. 

“Ugh...Rouge, don’t scare me like that…” he sighed.

“You didn’t answer my question, Shadow.” she shot back.

He shuffled around nervously, seeming unwilling to provide her with a straight answer. Once he realized that there was no getting out of this, though, her sensitive ears picked up the sound of the hybrid gulping briefly before taking a deep breath. “I...I’ve been working part-time arranging flowers.” he said, rushing the words out as though that would keep her from understanding them.

“Honey, you know you don’t have to do that- we still have enough money to handle the club’s current hours for a while longer…” she began, worrying that he was pushing himself too hard.

Shadow folded his arms. “Keeping us afloat isn’t all up to you, remember? And I actually enjoy it- it’s kind of calming.” he said, almost defiantly.

“If you insist.” she replied. “But make sure not to mess up your schedule, you know you need to make sure you’re getting your rest after everything.”

The hybrid rolled his eyes. “I’m the Ultimate Lifeform, I don’t need-”

“Wrong answer.” Omega said from the doorway, folding his arms and glowering at Shadow. Rouge had an expression to match, seeming pretty distressed by what he’d said.

“Shadow, hon, you keep using that title as an excuse not to take care of yourself, and that’s just as unhealthy as me ignoring people who try and bother me.” she said softly. “I...think you should really consider talking to the same person I did- it’s really helped, you know that.”

The hybrid sulked in the car on the way to the office a couple days later, but didn’t actively attempt to resist, so he probably knew that Rouge was right. He told his story to them in the most calm, nonchalant manner he could pull off, though his friends did take over the story occasionally when his voice trailed off.

By the end of it, the young mouse was frowning at their desk again. “Honestly, I’m...I’m speechless. The fact that so many people were willing to treat you so badly- it’s horrible. So...I’m really glad you’re here, and I’ll do my best to help you however I can.”

Shadow was a little touched by this amount of concern from what was essentially a stranger, though he remained resistant to their suggestions at first. However, a day or two later, he had yet another nightmare- and a bad one too. Ordinarily, he’d just ignore it and lie awake for hours trying to get back to sleep, but this time, he happened to recall what the therapist had said.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Shadow. You deserve it just as much as anyone else- no matter what some people may have said.”

He tried to avoid the thought, but his mind wouldn’t rest and he couldn’t even begin to relax. (Truthfully, he was too scared to, in case the nightmares came back.) Guiltily, he got up, shuffled over to Rouge’s room, and opened the door quietly. It took him a long moment to even work up the nerve to walk over to her bedside, but eventually he did. He shook her awake gently by the shoulder, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Oh, Shadow….” was all she said, before pulling him gently under the blankets with her and holding him tight.

The hybrid felt so pathetic and childish, yet he still buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a quiet sniffle. He could smell a mixture of her perfume and shampoo, and it calmed him slowly, as did the feeling of her arms around him. Eventually, he managed to fall back asleep to the sound of her breathing, and spent the rest of the night in relative peace.

When Shadow woke up early in the morning and Omega was right beside the bed, one of his hands resting comfortingly on his side, he didn’t even question it. He just placed his hand right over one of the giant metal fingers before resting a while longer, a small smile on his face.

As the days continued and the two Mobians started taking care of themselves more- with lower stress levels and many more peaceful nights as a result- Shadow finally even worked up the nerve to spend some time with Omega at the firing range. 

They had made careful plans. There were noise-canceling earmuffs available for free upon entry, and Shadow wouldn’t even be in the same room as most of the weaponry. He had a katana sword and he knew where the practice dummies were, and that was enough.

They’d be able to see each other through a glass window and wave (and show off, of course). So while Shadow approached the building with a slight air of trepidation, he also felt rather excited to be able to work on his fighting skills once again, especially with his friend.

That is, until the attendant at the desk refused to give him the headset when he asked for it.

“You have to rent an item to get the free headphones,” the young woman said, looking bored and generally unsympathetic. “That’s the rule.”

“I don’t see anything saying that.” Shadow shot back, but inside he felt more nervous than anything. He couldn’t stay here if he didn’t get that equipment, but he’d really wanted to spend some time with Omega today…

The robot appeared behind him surprisingly quickly, wrenching aside the attendant’s computer to glower at her better. “I have seen others come in here and get headsets for free while bringing their own weapons, so you had better have a good explanation for why you refuse to give him one.”

“He’s got a sword,” she pointed out unhelpfully, “so he shouldn’t even need one. Headsets are only for people with projectile weapons, anyway.”

Omega’s fingers tightened on the counter until they made a noticeable scraping sound. The attendant winced and even the otherwise impassive Shadow’s ears twitched at the noise.

He lifted up his hand, revealing deep scratches in the stainless steel. “You should think about being fair and providing Shadow with a headset now. Before I become really irritated.”

“That’s- I shouldn’t have to make an exception, he isn’t going to be on the firing range!”

“He does and you should. My friend does not do well with the sound of gunfire, so he deserves to have one. Right. Now.” Omega insisted, glaring at her.

“Well, if he doesn’t like guns then he shouldn’t be here.” she said irritably. “I’m not giving him one. And that’s final.”

The robot turned away suddenly and stalked towards the door. “Then I refuse to spend one moment longer in this building. Congratulations on losing your establishment some money.”

Shadow followed his friend, feeling more than a little like he’d just experienced some sort of verbal whiplash. “Wait...what just happened?”

“I decided that this place is clearly not good enough to deserve our patronage. We can find somewhere else to spend our time.”

“But I thought this was the best place in the area- I don’t want to make you miss out…” Shadow said, feeling bad for his friend.

Omega put a heavy arm around Shadow’s shoulders. “Amenities mean nothing to me if the people there insist you suffer in the process.”

The hybrid leaned against his friend, grateful. “Thank you, Omega.”

(They did eventually find a new- if slightly less upscale- place to go, and Omega managed to hit fifteen bulls-eyes in a row before being informed that they didn’t quite have the money for prizes there. Shadow enjoyed being able to use his sword, and he got significantly more respect on the way out of the building as opposed to the general confusion and mild derision he’d received on the way in...particularly after he defeated one of the most respected patrons in five minutes flat.)

…

Nearly a month and a half after Team Dark left Angel Island, Sonic set up a little party with some friends to celebrate their general success, as well as their slow steps to getting better, day by day. The team had been pretty reclusive and slightly paranoid as of late, so this was their first proper social outing in a long while.

Once they got over to Sonic’s house, all three members of Team Dark were immediately greeted with a shriek of “GUYS!”, followed by the sudden appearance of one cheerful pink hedgehog. “Rouge, Omega, Shadow, hi! How are you guys? Do you need anything?” Amy Rose asked, managing to simultaneously be cheerful, sympathetic, and doting in a way only she ever could.

“We’re doing better all the time, hon. Thank you.” Rouge answered kindly, while Omega waved at her and Shadow offered up a quiet nod. 

Amy wasn’t deterred by the latter’s behavior- she’d spent enough time with him to know that they were pretty good friends and that he was probably just a little overwhelmed, so she gave him his space. Blaze greeted them all politely as they entered the living room as well from her seat on the couch, but was quickly overshadowed by the other spacetime traveler present for the party.

Silver dashed over to the group, looking them all up and down worriedly. Upon seeing that they were mostly unharmed, albeit tired, he focused his attention on his personal hero and occasional mentor on Chaos techniques (Shadow).

“Are- are you going to be okay?” he asked worriedly, hovering (both literally and figuratively) around the other hedgehog. “Silly question, sorry, I just, if you’re not okay then I’m here if you need-”

“Silver.” Shadow cut the psychic off, but in a gentle manner. “I think I’ll be alright. If I’m ever not, though, I’ll keep your offer in mind. Thank you.”

“Okay.” He sighed, his nervous energy dissipating. It was replaced by a smile almost instantly, though, as he added, “Okay! I’m just so glad you guys managed to stop G.U.N. and everything. And that you’re alright now!”

Shadow offered him a small smile. “So am I.”

Soon after, Omega hurried down to Tails’s workshop with a shout of “What have you been working on? I need to see everything right now” and Rouge busied herself with scaring the living daylights out of Knuckles by sneaking up on him from behind. Meanwhile, Sonic stepped into Silver and Shadow’s conversation, at ease with both of them and enjoying the party. “You got some food yet?” he asked the hybrid, smiling warmly at him.

“No…?” Shadow said cautiously.

“Oh, man! There’s so much, you’ve gotta try everything!” Sonic exclaimed, dragging Shadow into the kitchen with one hand while Silver did the same with the other.

Moments later, he found himself with a plate filled with every kind of food available in the kitchen, from french fries to mini-sandwiches to cupcakes. Shadow startled slightly upon realizing that everybody else seemed to have brought several nice foods, and all his team had thought to bring was a bottle or two of soda. “I apologize for our lack of food-” he began, feeling somehow as though he should have done better, but Sonic silenced him quickly.

“Dude, no way! We’re having this party for you guys anyway because of all the stressful work you went through!”

Silver chimed in quickly. “We didn’t ask you guys to bring food because we didn’t want you to worry- you’ve done more than enough work for a long time.”

Shadow, in response, quickly shoved a mini-sandwich into his mouth to keep himself from saying anything too emotional.

Later, as they all settled down to watch the pilot episode of an old but well-known TV show, the hybrid found himself squeezed in between Rouge on one side, still flirting with Knuckles (punctuated by the occasional check-in on Shadow) and Sonic on the other side, in a surprisingly intense argument with Blaze about whether or not this show, Nebula Expedition: The Following Age, was better than the original.

Omega, meanwhile, was trying his best not to utterly crush the beanbag chair on the floor he’d been given after the couch had nearly tipped over the moment he sat down. Tails was leaned against him, while Amy, Blaze and Silver shared the other sofa.

Suddenly, Sonic turned to him, his expression intense and serious. “Shadow. This is the most important question you’re gonna answer all week. Which show is better: The Following Age or the original?”

The hybrid shook his head, a smile appearing on his face despite his best attempts to ignore it. It was crazy to think that he’d gone from the most important question of the week being “Am I going to be captured by G.U.N. and imprisoned?” to “Which show is better?”, and he couldn’t help but allow a laugh to escape him. It was just a quick little snicker, but it was enough for Sonic’s eyes to widen and for him to grin. 

“What’s that all about?” he asked, half joking and half serious, leaning his shoulder on Shadow’s. “You think this question’s a joke? Your answer’s really important here, y’know!”

“Well, for your information…” the hybrid began.

Sonic leaned in a little closer. “Yeah?”

“I like Asteroid Battle the best. Only the originals, though.”

The hero gave a cry of dismay and flopped back against the couch, throwing his hands up in the air. “Asteroid Battle? Asteroid Battle?? That wasn’t even an option!” he cried. “It’s not even in the same franchise, for Chaos’ sake!”

“Too bad.” Shadow replied smugly, folding his arms and still smiling. “Because that’s the one I like best.”

Sonic smacked him on the arm and heaved a dramatic sigh. “Well, too bad to both you and Blaze, because it’s my TV and I get to pick the show.”

Shadow wasn’t the least bit bothered about that as he settled in to watch, surrounded by his friends and safe as he could be. This atmosphere- of cheer and kindness and laughter- this was what he’d wanted to be able to enjoy all along.

He wasn’t entirely there yet- and maybe he would never be able to know the freedom that came when people didn’t carry the memories he did. But in the end, he couldn’t say that he regretted that burden too greatly. Even through all the bad, he had enough good in this world that it was all worth the struggle in the end, if he got to be here, now, in this place with the people he cared for most.

Shadow met Rouge’s eyes briefly, and then Omega’s, hoping that the words he couldn’t say right now would be understood.

Thank you both so much. For being there for me, through the good times and the bad. For being happy with me and sad with me. For standing by me when I decided to take on the largest military organization in the world, and afterwards as well. Just...thank you.

For everything.

[atomicblasphemy]

I was bored and decided to speculate on the upcoming Owl House episodes

Buckle up, this got way longer than anticipated.

Often I tend to have as much or even more fun with TOH’s b plots as with the main ones, and seeing the memes the fandom I guess that’s kind of a normal feeling. But this last episode didn’t really have one and I’m pretty glad it didn’t.

Here’s how I’ve been thinking of the show, specially when it comes to episode structure. Pretty much in the first few scenes they will go like “hey, here’s an idea.” Then they go on the rest of the episode showing why that is not such a good idea. Case in point, Understanding Willow’s “out of sight, out of mind” only for the episode turn out as an argument for therapy, or that grom episode with Luz unable to answer her mom’s messages only to do so by the end of the episode (even though that is not a full solution, but still, she’s the main character and that looks like it will a main source of conflict until the show’s end... probably). On today’s episode I feel like it came out in two ways: from Luz perspective it came in the form of her indulging King’s narrative and self-image; on his case, well, it pretty much boils down to that whole identity crisis thing.

In other words, although in a certain way there are two big stories being told they both are a part of the same plot line. Moreover, King is a part of the show’s main trio.

Now, this may just be my own perception, but I feel like the last five or so episodes were kind of meant to be some turning point for specific characters, in this sequence: King, Willow, Luz, Amity, Eda, Lilith. Those episodes seem, again, at least to me, to mark some form of shift in the characters story. For Lilith it was her betraying the Emperor, for Eda it was learning who cursed her and her imprisonment for Luz’s sake in a way (learning she grew to care for Luz over her own well-being), for Amity it was her taking a first tangible step towards getting out from her parent’s dominion (which culminates in the events of EE) and becoming her own person, for Luz it was confronting the fact her biggest fear is somewhat related to guilty about how she left her world and her mom and finding in herself (and the friends she made in the Isles) the fortitude to actually confront all that, for Willow it was what I said before (which, btw, ends her whole arc that started on the conjuring episode, the whole thing about her and Amity’s friendship). The only one of those I can’t really see clearly what the episode’s point really was is King’s Really Small Problems.

Again, going on a bit of subjectivity here but I feel like that episode was kind of the show’s lowest point so far. First of, there’s the fact that Willow, Gus, and especially Luz don’t apologize to King because, I mean, they were pretty much about as guilty for everything that happened as him. They did either hijack or forget his day with Luz, so you know... Buuut, still, if I were to hazard a guess as to what the point on that episode I’d say it circles around the line “The King of Demons misses nobody.” early in the episode being contrasted by “Demons do crazy things when they’ve been missing someone.” In other words, the point of the episode, to my best guess would be him starting to deal with a shifting sense of identity.

So, this brings us to the current season. If I’m right in my understanding of Really Small Problems, then that’d mean that Echoes of the Past is picking up on that episode’s thread. Likewise, the same can be said about Escaping Expulsion. And in a sense, both King and Amity’s (moreso in Amity’s case, admittedly) arc seem to have in a way concluded with those two episodes. Moreover, going by the episode’s synopsis the next upcoming episodes seem to also doing something similar: either picking up a previous storyline and finishing it, or starting new ones. Separate Tides would be a bit of an exception, since it was the premiere and had to reacquaint the audience with the world and characters, but even then I feel it sets up a potential point of conflict for Luz in the form of her guilt over Eda’s loss of magic.

Then, again, going off a limb here, but I’d guess that, from episodes 2 to 8 the main objects will be, in this order, Amity, King, Lilith (going by the trailer implying we’ll see her beast form), Gus (who thus far didn’t really have a longer story arc beyond The First Day), Luz, Eda (which, given how it introduces a new character from her past I’d imagine it would mark the beginning of a new arc for her). But I feel bored so I want to elaborate a bit further.

Episode 4: Lilith, maybe (this part is pretty esoteric, to be honest), possibly, starts to come to grips with the consequences of sharing the curse while, due to mamma Clawthorne’s visit, seeing their past in a more nuanced fashion. I mean, Mamma Clawthorne is in the beast keeping coven, her presence while her first born daughter literally turns into a best could make for some interesting potential stories. Anyhow, I think some other interesting thing will have to do with Eda. As I said I can’t really see an arc or something along those lines happening with her as of right now. Now, bare with me while I go on a bit of a tangent. So, in Understanding Willow Willow herself is the object of the story, however in that episode we also get to see the cause of them falling apart was Odalia and Alador threatening Amity indirectly. By doing that the upcoming conflict regarding her gets established. Then next, at the Grom episode, we as the audience learn that Amity is at least attracted to Luz. There’s no point on getting too deep into this beyond this: her crush on Luz works as a strong reason, from her perspective, to stand up to her parents. Then at the Grudgby episode we see her taking active steps towards getting more agency in her life from them when she chooses to play against two people her parents sanctioned as suitable companions. Eventually this would culminate in the EE episode as I already talked at length about. The reason I’m bringing all of this up is because I get the feeling Eda’s upcoming story will follow some similar lines, whatever happens here (and will either be developed or solved on episode 7) will be set up at this episode.

Episode 5: As I said, I don’t really see clearly what Gus’ main conflict is, and I would imagine that this episode will either make that more evident or outright introduce it, so I don’t feel I’m in the position to speculate the specifics. However, we do know that the B plot is Lumity and I’ll need to dwell on this one a bit longer. After season one, I had this guess that this ship would become cannon somewhere between episode 3 at the earliest and 7 at the lastest. The reason I thought so, and I still think there’s no solid reason to reject this hypothesis, was that after WiLW the only thing standing in the way from Amity coming clean about her feelings was probably her relationship with her parents. UW set that up, WiLW took a first step in that direction, EE went through with it. Moreover, I thought that’d be in line with what we had shown of the show’s pacing up until that point. So, basically the situation I see here goes along the lines of setting up a new source of conflict for Amity (in the form of Luz eventually leaving the Isles), and for Luz in the form of (if my guess of Lumity becoming cannon in this specific episode is correct) the start of a new relationship, something she never experienced before, which would make her question whether or not she actually wants to go back to the human realm, or at the very least muddy the water a tad. However, I am not so dead certain they’ll become cannon (and, btw, by cannon I mean simply an unequivocal sign that their relationship changed, however the showrunners decide that should look like.) Moreover, that only gets accentuated if the thing she’s helping Luz with is a portal. In other words, my “prediction” that it’d become cannon around this time was mostly due to me feeling that turning them into a will they won’t they at this point would be tantamount to the show chasing its own tail, but that’d feel uncharacteristic of the show, in light of the first season. That being said, if I’m right about there being this upcoming conflict about Luz having to decide between the Isles and the human realm (which may or may not keep on developing until the shows finale, but I digress), then it wouldn’t necessarily be a problem. If handled well her being uncertain as to whether or not to take the leap with Amity could potentially be an interesting way convey her internal conflict. Still, I think that having those two be together would be more effective in give her one more strong argument in favor of staying in the Isles. Besides, there’s my thoughts about the following episode which would make the will they won’t they approach redundant. Also, the fact Amity is the one

Episode 6: Pretty much would pick up on the place it left Luz in the previous episode, again, if and only if my speculations so far are right. Two things the synopsis doesn’t really make clear: why Luz is having problem hunting a palisman; and who the foe in question is. Now, I know we see her carrying Golden Boi’s staff. I’m choosing to ignore this for now because I would actually have Boscha (who we see in one of the teasers), and who would kind of go along with some hints at her redemption like that “you’re a really good friend...” line. Besides, if this palisman thing is a part of Hexside’s curriculum it would make sense that she’d be in the same situation as Luz. Not to mention that Golden Boi helping her gain access to a weapon she can and most likely will turn against him and his boss seems pretty odd. Ultimately, however, the identity of this foe is inconsequential. The main point of interest for me is the reason why she is having trouble finding herself a palisman. We don’t know the specifics of palisman adoption or creation, so I will try not to depend to much on it. But here’s the gist: getting a palisman as a commitment not only to the palisman itself but to the world. Whatever happens between her and Amity and going by the mad logic I’m using, her sense of belonging would probably be completely scrambled even before the episode starts. Being made to make a commitment like that in midst of an existential crisis of sorts as a means to create internal conflict in Luz, that’s what I’m trying to argue is the point of this episode. Also, before I move on to another thing I think is pretty important and I’ve decided to say it now because I don’t want to rework the structure of a rambling session that’s already way longer than I expected: we see Camilla in the trailer, I think this would be the best moment to put her. The reason for that is simple enough. In the A plot we see Luz trying to decide where she belongs to, and working towards becoming more and more part of the Isles figurative landscape; on the b plot however we would get to see in the form of Camilla that she still has a home in the human realm, that there’s still someone who loves her a lot and is doing everything within her power to get her back or at least to ensure she is safe and sound. Not to mention, it would be a great moment to bring up those letters we see at the end of the Grom episode, but I’ll get to that when I get to that.

Now, that important thing I wanted to talk about: the overall message of the show. I think I said this before but my favorite thing about Luz is the effect she has on the other character, essentially she is the catalyst to their growth. She is the one that ensured Willow would confront her past with Amity resulting in her getting rid of the hang ups that were holding her back allowing her to forge her own path. She is the reason why Amity chooses to stand up for herself. She is the reason why Lilith is capable of hope to rekindle her relationship with her sister thus empowering her to break away from the Emperor. She is the reason why Eda now has some reason to, as she put it herself, “stop wasting away her magic”, she gives her something to look forward to. Hell, even if we are just starting to see it, I’m positive we can make an argument that she’s why King became more open to the possibility he is not who he thought he was, making him see himself more as who he is to the people he cares about than a dethroned king of demons.

In a sense Luz seems to find all other characters in something of a stagnation point of their. A sort of fatalistic view of their own identities, be it in a more “ontological” sense, according to my interpretation, as in Lilith and Amity’s case, or as products of Lady Luck’s whims as for Willow and Eda. {Sidenote: For me at least Lumity’s mutual crush always made more sense on Amity’s end than on Luz’s and in a certain way it still does despite EE. Case in point, if I were to pin point the precise moment her feelings towards started shaping up in a way that makes infatuation possible it would that “I’m not a witch, but I’m working hard to become”. If what I’m saying is not absolute non-sense, then this would have been a “Holy shit. You can actually do that? You can actually have enough agency over your own life to that extent do something like that?”. I mean, their following interaction, at the library has her looking like “Ok, maybe I was just a wee bit of a needlessly belligerent dick just now” after she pushes Luz away from her offering to help when reading to kids.}

To put it succinctly: the message of the show is that your identity, who you are as a person, is not the product  of a pre-existent essence but of who you actively choose to be. That even if one is not capable of deciding their circumstances (like Willow, Eda, or Amity), that are the choices one makes as they go about living their lives that determine their identity. And by centering Luz’s core conflict now as where her belonging lies only for it to be solved at the show’s finale by having her, the main character, effectively having to make this choice, to realize she belongs to wherever she decides she belongs to would be a pretty poignant way to get this point across.

So yeah, if my guesses so far are right this may as well be one of the show’s most important episodes.

Anyway, back to my esoteric predictions about the upcoming episodes...

Episode 7: Eda and Rayne. Now, I don’t to sound like a party pooper or something, but we don’t really have a reason to predict those two having a romantic connection. There’s no reason to necessarily refuse this possibility a priori either though. I mean, the further I get into the future episode the less I have to work with in terms of speculation. We don’t really know where her story is heading, and I feel like I already covered it enough when I was talking about ep 4. But there are two things I want to point out. First, like Mama Clawthorne, Rayne is a figure from Eda’s past, so whatever conflict she may have to sort through from now on stems from her past. The specifics are up to anyone’s guess, so yeah, it is perfectly possible that those two were a couple or something along those lines at some point in the past. But other than that picture that shows that they were somewhat close, we really don’t have much to go by. Second thing, and this is not really all that important. If the foe from episode 6 is not Golden Boi, I think this will be the episode on which the two interact (again, that picture of Luz with his staff, we know they will get to interact at some point, and this seems to be the one episode out of all we have a synopsis for that depends the least on Luz for the main story).

Episode 8: Just imagine me blowing raspberries. I got nothing for this one, except that: a - I really hope Axel Rose does not get to be a guest voice acting role, same goes for Slash and that bassist I keep forgetting the name of; b - I hate this expression, but this really strike me as a “filler episode”, or a breather as I’ve seem someone put it. Still, as much as with anything else I could be wrong here.

But before I move on, there are three very important characters I haven’t talked about enough thus far at least in terms of speculation. Gus, Willow, and Bellos. So I’ll address the three of them just now. Bellos: he is the force that will ultimately make Luz confronting the question about where her belonging lies all but unavoidable; essentially - and I know I must sound like a broken record, but if and only if my take is right - his actions are not all that important to the story and its message because he is less of a character and more something akin to a force of nature. Gus: again, not so sure where his story will go or if he even has one in a more strict sense as the other characters. Frankly that’s one of the  aspects of the show I find the hardest to form an opinion on, unlike the others he sort of feels complete, that makes him pretty neat but also means that there’s less stuff you can do to him, less places you can take his character and develop it. That being said, I think he has a function in the show and he fulfills it pretty nicely. Besides, they can always just go and introduce new aspects to him we just can’t foresee as of now (which might as well happen in episode 5 for all we know). Either way, I have nothing but adoration for this precious boy. Now, Willow. As I mentioned, as far as I can tell her character got pretty much done with at Understand Willow. It was really weird for me when I watched that episode because it is until now my absolute favorite of the series (although Echoes fro the Past is putting up a pretty solid fight), the first thing I thought afterwards was “Idk how many seasons the show has left, but it feels a bit too soon for a defining moment like this and I don’t know what else they can do with her.” I mean, you could argue that the Grudgby episode seems to kinda sorta set up a conflict between her and Boscha, but that story seems to concern more Luz and Amity’s characters, especially the ladder. Willow and Boscha act more as a means to make Amity take that first step and for Luz to learn not to start a mosh pit in a Radiohead concert. That being said, I feel like she is now in a similar position to Gus’: either a new unforeseen source of conflict for her or they simply leave her to occupy a fixed role in the story. Personally, I’d much rather they introduce new stories and conflicts for them, not only that would help push for that overall message I was raving on about, but I also just wanna see more of them. I adore all characters in this show, I have fun with them and want to keep doing so until the show ultimately ends.

Almost done, I promise. Just a tad more of your patience, that’s all I’m asking. I will not revise or edit this so hopefully I’m still making a semblance of sense. I mean, if you’re reading this sentence then it probably means I am. Otherwise I can only ask you one thing: why?

Now, Eclipse Lake, or episode 9. As I said when talking about episode 7, we are now in too distant a territory for me to feel any confident as to my basis. Take all of this as more wishful thinking than anything else. So, you know, if you have a tin foil hat at hand now would be a good time to put it on.

Going by this episode’s synopsis as well as episode 5′s it makes it sound that Amity will become steadily a more central point to the whole portal conundrum. She is the one going on about it more than anyone else. There’s a first a fairly obvious reason why she put herself in that position: she has a gargantuan  crush on the girl and wants to spend as much time as physically possible with her. There’s also a secondary reason why she would want to do that, and for that I’d need to bring up those letters Camilla has or had been receiving.

Now, I’m aware I can’t really make an ironclad argument for her being the one writing them. However, it is more than a bit suspicious that those letters would be brought to attention immediately after we see a piece of writing that we know for a fact was written by her and seeing how closely those two handwrittings match. Not every piece of scenary put by an author necessarily be a Tchekov’s gun, but this one reaaally looks to be the case, still circumstantial evidence so tin foil hats or whatever. Moreover, as I on at length before, Amity’s story up to this point was that of someone learning to be her own person and aim for her own goals, in this sense I can see her decision for writing those letters as an early and not stellarly thought out way to do that even if well meaning. Like a poorly articulated if good intentioned act made by someone who doesn’t really understands why she’s doing what she’s doing, what it entails, or what the full length of the consequences could be. I mean, she is a kid after all, and she is bound to have a few hiccups along her way to self-discovery. Again, I’ll get to it when I get to it. Lastly, however, the second reason why she would have a reason to volunteer to help Luz with her portal situation: if she is the one sending those letters then she has access to some form of a portal herself, be it fully functioning like Eda’s or just capable to dispatch smaller objects that’s not really the point. The point is that, if all I’m saying is right she will be put in a very strange situation. If she is possession of a portal and is “helping” Luz find one, then she’d essentially be lying to her much like Luz herself is in a sense lying to Camilla. Moreover, she’d be at this point one of the characters with the largest amount of reasons to delay Luz’s return to the human realm as much as possible, meaning that the question she’ll have to answer would probably go along these lines: do I act in self-interest, lie or maybe even do some sabotage, and make sure I keep the person I’m growing to love next to me, ooooor do I act accordingly to this love and help her achieve her goal which could potentially mean I’ll never see her again?

Also, season one’s finale had an ambiguous title. Young Blood, Old Souls can just as easily be taken as referring to Eda as well as to Lilith, the two focal points of that episode’s conflict. Likewise here, “Yesterday’s Lies” could be taken as either a reference to Luz’s lies to Camilla, or these hypothetical lies Amity may be telling Luz. That means, in this hypothetical mid-season finale I’m conceiving here these two would be the focal points of conflict (maybe alongside Camilla).

In any case, a possible counter to everything I’m saying here is Dana stating that romance was not the show’s endgame, and that is not what I’m suggesting. I have more to speculate on Amity’s role, so going from that I can say that this would in a way be a continuation of what we saw in EE. Something like: Okay, so you want to become your own person, in order to do that I’ll have to make some tough decisions, here’s your first one. It’s like confronting this infant who just took its first steps with the knowledge she’s actually running a marathon.

Anyhow, I don’t really feel well equipped to speculate on how things would play out on Luz’s end so let’s shake things up a bit and try to see things from Camilla’s perspective before getting to the long awaited conclusion. And by long awaited I mean me, this was more tiring than I expected but what the hell, I’m almost done. I can see the finish line already, so yeah. 

So, Camilla. What we know given the trailer and the Grom episode is essentially this: she is most likely aware Luz never made to the Reality Check Camp in the first place, and that regardless of where she is there’s someone who (up until the Grom episode) was sending her these comforting messages. If and only if, all I’ve said is right then well have a line of communication between one of Luz’s big arguments for staying in the Isles and her biggest argument for coming back.

Hold on to your tin foil hats, y’all need it. Because my next point is: once Camilla finds out that the letters she’d been receiving up to that are more than a bit sketchy (her ooooohhhh face at the trailer could be that) and if she has some means of responding to them, which I mean... That’s the closest thing to a lead as to Luz’s whereabouts she has, she most likely would confront this hypothetical Amity if that’s the case. If the stars align just right there’s a pretty good chance Amity would give the broad strokes of Luz‘s situation in as much a cryptic fashion as she can, as well as start creating some form rappor with Camilla. Meaning that that choice she’d have to make as I mentioned before would get this extra layer of nuance, because now she knows beyond any doubt that if Luz does cross the portal she’d be with someone who deeply cares about her. Moreover, if I’m right about Amity’s upcoming conflict centering around her apprehension with Luz crossing the portal, her correspondence with Camilla could be a way for her to overcome this fear, for better or for worse. In other words, Camilla possibly unknowing giving her potential daughter-in-law the necessary tools for her to grow as a person. And honestly, I think that would be a pretty cool story.

And that could cause a pretty interesting dynamic between the three of them: Luz not sure as to who she wants to chose to become and most likely getting very upset once she learns of Amity’s lie, whilst still wanting (I don’t really have a defense for this I just think it’d be interesting) to keep her first romantic or potentially romantic relationship, while also being worried as to how things would be with her mother considering her own lie; Amity lying to Luz, while trying to balance out her on desires versus her loved one well-being; and Camilla having mixed feeling about Amity or whoever wrote those letters (they did lie to her after all), worrying like crazy about Luz and also feeling a tad upset at Luz’s lie. 

And holy shit I think that does it. I’m done.

Anyone, next finale is “Luz x Camilla x Amity”, that out of the way like Lilith x Eda and Lilith x Luz, my guess is that season 2.5 finale would be “Gus and Willow x Luz” or “Luz x Eda and King”, the finale finale therefore would most like be Luz x Luz.

Ci vediamo.

{Couple of edits I just thought would be important:

1 - I know that considering what I’ve said regarding the mid-season final may seem like a bit too much for a 20 something minutes episode. But I mean, this fandom and Amphibia’s seem to overlap quite a bit, and we all saw the metric ton of information they threw at us during True Colors. All that I’ve said seem to me well withing the realm of possibility.

2 - In the EXTREMELY unlikely chance I’m absolutely on point on everything I’ve just spouted (Despite being purposefully vague. But oh well. We can argue the semantics of vagueness some other time) I’ll consider this fandom as owing me a rendition of The Number of the Beast’s cover art (the album, not the single... not even I am morbid enough for that) featuring the Owl Beast, Belos and Kikimora or the Golden Boi. I call it the Owl Maiden. Will I go aggro if no one does that? No. Do I have means to demand it in any forceful way that would grant that I’d get to see said rendition? hahahaha I obviously don’t. Will I be poutty? Yes, that will 100% happen. But really, that would be for the benefit of us as a community. I mean, that look pretty awesome and you can’t argue otherwise.}

[excitedlysuffering]

OMGOMGOMG possibly Kakashi head-cannon collection? He is the love of my life (lmao don’t tell my bf that)

Your secrets safe with me he’s my love too😂

Kakashi Headcanons Collection

What He Looks For In A S/O~

• A reader, they don’t have to read Icha Icha (bonus points if you did) but someone who appreciates a good book

• Someone laid back and not very high maintenance

• I see him wanting a shinobi S/O cause he needs them to be to take care of themselves or he’ll worry too much

• he’ll worry anyways

• Someone who understands his pain and won’t shy away from him when he’s going through a rough patch

• Someone who is good with words, like say something sweet and he’s metlinggg

• A person with considerate personality traits

• He would like an S/O who’s willing to try new things and adventures

• Someone who would take things slowly

• Someone who could honestly make him laugh

• He’s DadKashi he’s going to want someone good with kids

• To be frank, he would probably want a relatively stable S/O so that in his mind there’s no chance of them ending up like his father

• He wants companionship so someone who’s not distant and who wouldn’t mind him being around all the time

• I really can’t see him with a tsundere S/O, he needs to see that his partner loves him as much as he loves them

Relationship With Kashi Stuff~

• Please do domestic stuff (Sending him off to work with a kiss, a note in his lunchbox, kissing him when he gets home) he will be near tears every time

• TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK™ (whether it’s kicking butt, making dinner, or teaching (raising) Team 7)

• You probably won’t notice moving in with each other until you look up like ‘holy crap I haven’t been to my apartment in like 2 weeks?’

• Read with him or read to him, and you will have his HEART

• He’s not clingy per se, but he loves to be in your presence whenever he can

• Will take you out on dates once a week EVERY WEEK (Sorry Tsunade-sama, I have a date then, but I’ll leave right after?)

• Dating Kakashi means you’re now honorary rivals with Gai (who knows Kashi better, who can make him laugh most etc.)

• Pick up line wars 24/7, the loser has to do the other’s chores Kakashi wins

• Okay, but Kakashi never had a childhood, so make a list of everything he never got to do and you slowly complete them together

• He’s such a sweetheart like, surprise, he’s so sensitive

• Get’s so flustered seeing you in his clothes, he temporarily shuts down

• He’s given up trying to take back his mask whenever you’re wearing it

• Okay, we all know this silver-haired hottie is suave, but he is SMOOTH, he will 100% find ways to have you blush whenever possible, he is the CEO of leaving you hot and bothered

• Made you your own area in the Hokage office as a hint that he needed your company

• Has never forgotten an important date (he uses his Sharingan on the calendar)

• He’s fought demons and other crazy villains, but will still be terrified of you on your period (he’s brave tho he’ll just bring a lot of peace offerings)

• He heard you refer to him as DadKashi in front of Team 7 and/or your friends and just about loses his mind

• When you first see his face without his mask you’re probably pissed cuz WHY would he hide that beauty from the world?! it’s for the greater good hun

How To Lose/Annoy Him~

• Being insensitive/ignorant about things like loss or mental illness

• Constantly distracting him from his duties or hobbies

• Being rude or uncompassionate

• Being willing to abandon people or being self-centered you SCUM

• He always makes time for you, so he’d be a bit bothered if they didn’t put forth any effort to spend time with him

• Little pranks are harmless, but things that make him scared for your wellbeing or stealing his mask are big fat NO

• Being reckless just because, being a shinobi is already dangerous with would you play with death like that??

• Being lazy, Kakashi at his core is really something of a go-go-go person, he doesn’t want to just do anything all the time

Soft Kakashi Things~

• Kakashi is such a softie omg

• He likes to fall asleep last just so he can tell you how much he loves you and you saved him while you’re asleep

• If you’re having a bad day, he’ll drop everything (if possible) to hold you and be there for you in every way you need

• Definitely has Sai draw a small pic of you so he can carry it around and/or put in the Hokage office

• Mission dates are a thing like imagine flirting with Kakashi while destroying your opponents (so romantic)

• He’s big on practical gifts. If he notices you’re running low on shuriken? Expect a box of them from him

• He’ll read a particular *wild* Icha Icha quote to you just to make you flustered (bonus points for him if you’re in public)

• His students question you all the time like how did you end up with their lonely, pervy sensei?

• Will sweep you off your feet for no reason other than he likes to hold you and carry you

Random Kashi Facts~

• Kakashi’s love language is words of affirmation like he craves hearing that you love him and the like

• He hums and sings around the house or whenever he’s bored or preoccupied

• After having eating fish out of necessity day after day he prefers not eating it if possible

• He will often fall asleep a good while after he actually lays down because he enjoys debriefing himself of everything that happened during the day

• Actually sleeps really deep when he’s next to you, otherwise, the smallest sound can wake him up

• He likes to put notes or letters from you in his Icha Icha books so he can read them whenever and no one will peak cuz ew, Icha Icha

• In all honesty, Gai is a common factor in why he’s so late everywhere, but it’s mostly him walking around and taking in the sights like a nostalgic old man

• In the episode where Sakura and Naruto transformed into kids and called Kashi and old man, giving him an identity crisis is actually common. His hair color and the fact that you can’t see his face make some kids think he’s old

• Sometimes when he can’t sleep he’ll find a random tree and fall asleep in it (he’s a strange one)

• He lost his newest Icha Icha book when he was Hokage and very nearly (thanks to Shikamaru) called a citywide search party

Little Things~

Favorite:

• Place to kiss- Your temple, it feels really intimate to him and he’s so tall it’s an easy place for him

• Way to hug- Kakashi loves those giant bear hugs where he just envelopes you like you’re basically one with him now

•’Thing to do with you- He really loves reading with you, whether it’s the same book, or you’re just both sitting next to each other reading

• Type of date- Although your most common date is a mission date (lol), his favorite is being able to take you to a nice restaurant and then on a walk around the city

This or That:

• He’s a winter person actually, he loves being cuddled up with you and blankets, and the abundance of hot drinks

• He’s a morning person because he’s been waking up early since he was a child, and doesn’t really know how to enjoy sleeping anymore (but if that wasn’t the case he’d be a night owl)

• Loves both cooking for you and being cooked for he puts Bobby Flay to shame honestly

• He spends all his time reading obviously and if his S/O is a writer or he’ll be soooo excited and will read everything they put out

Conflict Happenings~

• He knows disagreements are a normal part of relationships (in moderation of course) so if there was a real problem, he wouldn’t shy away from it

• He won’t raise his voice or take a tone with you, he doesn’t feel the need to, but he will definitely get his point across

• To his fault, he might throw in a slight or cutting remark here and there but he will regret it the second your expression changes

• He’s a real go with the flow kind of guy so if he realizes that something is his fault, he will correct it ASAP

• If he notices you’re getting really worked up, he’ll just hug you until you calm down and can speak coherently but at that point it’s like ‘what was I mad about??’

• If his S/O is headstrong it’ll probably bring that side out in him, even if temporarily

• If it’s a minor disagreement he’ll probably say something funny to diffuse the situation

• He would rather die than argue in public, to him it’s a private thing and he hates causing a scene

Modern Kashi~

• I can see him as more of a club/extracurricular activities leader than a teacher

• He’s really close to those kids in his group and probably sheds a few proud DadKashi tears at their graduation

• That one fine teacher that all the students are thirsting over

• If not a teacher he’d probably be an elite CIA agent or a higher ranking FBI officer

• He has so many dogs like he sees a stray and how could he possibly give them up??

• He’d probably walk around Playboy Magazines just cause he can

• At one point he dyed his hair black cause he thought it’d look more ‘normal’ but he HATED it

• He likes plants but he’s so bad at taking care of them?? He can remember all of his dogs’ names and their food preferences but can’t remember to water a plant

• His house is so clean he’s been doing all his household chores since he was a child

• He definitely met Gai in elementary school and they never parted, even going on to become college roommates never again

• Gai probably barges in Kakashi’s classroom so often he’s most likely considered the co-leader/teacher

• Kakashi has definitely gotten drunk on school nights before but he’s such an in-control drunk no one ever noticed

• Kakashi was my first Naruto love and my first husband. BACK OFF

Masterlist

[alleycat97]

Slippery Slopes Pt.2

Part two y’all! Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy. Should be one more part to finish this up!

Tag list: @samanthadalton @fundamentalromantic @avalawrencefl @penda-bear @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @kamilahsayeet2063

It had been an interesting 24 hours since the accident on the slopes yesterday. No word had been passed on about Emma and that left her suitors restless. Mason couldn’t cope with the fact that his father or ex best friend had committed such a cruel act that hurt Emma.

Noah couldn’t believe he was even in this situation. He should have never trusted Jennings but he let his guard down for the sake of the trip and Emma, and this is what he got. He was looking at charges for trespassing and endangerment while Principal Jennings seemed to be clearing his name.

Mack couldn’t stop pacing, Dr. Price was doing an awful job of updating his own daughter on her sisters progress. Ava wasn’t fairing much better. She had organized their room over and over trying to make sure it’s perfect for when Emma came back to the lodge.

It was just a sit tight and stand ready type of situation. None of them had a personal car available, so trapped at the lodge they were.

Ava stopped her cleaning when she heard a cellphone go off, to no surprise it was hers and the caller was Bayla. She grumbled and put the phone back down, she had called 4 times already today. Ava couldn’t bring herself to talk to her girlfriend knowing Emma was hurt in the hospital. She would sound weak, vulnerable, all red flags Bayla didn’t need right now.

Another call rang out across the house, this time it was Mack’s phone, and judging by her facial reactions, it was with her father. Mack nodded enthusiastically and ended the call, yelling out to find Mason.

“Emma is ready to come back here, dad said she will be ok, we need to go and pick her up. Spare keys are in his room, I’ll grab them and we can go.”

“What all was wrong?” Ava rushed out of the room and into the foyer.

“He didn’t say. I guess we will know when we all get back.” Mack said noticing the gloom placed on Ava’s features. “She’s gonna be alright.”

Ava went and tidied up the room once more and without knowing what Emma would require, she just cluttered the entire nightstand with odd and ends eliminating the guessing.

The front door slamming was her queue to come running, she leaned over the balcony railing only to see Jennings and Noah.

“I don’t know how you got those signs in my bag old man, but this isn’t over.” Noah hissed shoving his way past Principal Jennings.

“Maybe you should think twice before doing illegal activities. You’re never going to learn trailer trash.” Jennings barked stopping Noah dead in his tracks.

Jennings was an asshole. This dude seemed to get off on making teenagers lives miserable. The tension was unbearable.

“I know you knew about the course being closed. I just can’t figure out why you’d try to hurt Emma. You’re a sick bastard and if I go down, you’re coming with me.” Noah said inching up into Jennings face.

The scene was split up when Mack came through the door. Mason in tow pushing an unconscious Emma in a wheelchair. She had a cast on her leg and looked so cold. Dave brought up the rear looking like hell. Looks like sleep wasn't an option for him either.

“Ah yes there she is. How did everything go?” Jennings asked unfazed of what transpired.

Mason ignored him and tried to walk past to the staircase with Emma sleeping.

“I said how did everything go?” Jennings said jerking Mason back almost causing him to fall. Noah shoved Jennings aside helping to stabilize Mason so Emma wouldn’t fall out of the chair.

“Ask Mr. Price dad! Let go of me, Emma needs to be in bed!” Mason snapped shoving his fathers hands away from him.

Jennings jumped at the outburst and gritted his teeth, turning to Dave. “Let’s talk in the kitchen, I’ll have the Chef whip up some coffee.”

With the adults gone and the room de-stressed, Noah assisted Mason in carrying Emma up to her room, Ava steering clear of them until Emma was placed in bed.

“Ok boys thank you. I can handle her from here.” Ava shot out shoving them aside to check on Emma.

The boys looked to each other confused but didn’t say anything about the outburst. Mason needed his own rest and Noah had a busy day ahead of him with Jennings and the ski patrol assholes.

“Just let us know when she wakes alright? Mr. Price has her medicine.” Mason said closing the door leaving Ava alone with a sleeping Emma.

Ava had no clue why she wanted the privacy with Emma. She was a taken woman and Emma was her bestie. Nothing else, she tried to convince herself.

But the longer she sat and stared at Emma, the more her heart pounded, the more she wanted to wake her and kiss her all better. The thoughts of such activities made her dizzy and she had to get away. But it was Emma, she had this way of keeping her grounded and for the life of her, Ava couldn’t drag herself away.

So she continued to sit in silence, begging for Emma to wake up, because quite frankly? She didn’t look too well.

Ava easily got up and slipped out of the room and looked for Mr. Price. She heard some quiet commotion from the kitchen, what a shock.

“Now you listen here Jim, I don’t know how it happened, all I know is my little girl just underwent a major leg surgery after she took place in your little race.”

“Now I know how it looks Dave, I’m quite sorry that it happened, but Mr. Harris is the culprit here. I should have known not to place trust in him. What a terrible thing, taking down those signs.”

Noah heard his name and flew into the kitchen,

“I told you Jennings! I didn’t take down any signs!”

“Quiet scum! Adults are talking here! Don’t you have a meeting with the ski patrol?” Jim teased.

“I don’t know how you twisted this on me, but I’ll get you back.” Noah inched closer so only Jennings could here, “Maybe I should call off our deal?”

Whatever was said, Jennings went pale and cleared his throat. Removing himself from the conversation.

“Mr. Price?” Ava said entering the room. “Emma is still asleep. And she’s so pale, she looks sick.”

“I feared that. It’s her medication, she should be awake anytime now for another dose. Here, please give her one of these when she awakes. I’m going to get some rest.” Mr. Price said handing over the medicine.

Ava returned to the room with the meds and hot tea to find Emma slowly awaking.

“Hello sleepy head.” Ava rushed over with a smile.

“Where am I?” Emma groggily spoke out.

“Back in the bedroom with good ol me.”

Emma rubbed at her eyes trying to get them to open, “Are you an angel?”

Ava snorted, “Oh now you wanna shoot your shot huh.”

“Worth a try.” Emma laughed. “I feel terrible.”

“You look it.” Ava agreed dodging the pillow Emma tossed.

“Here Mahomes, here’s your pill and I made your favorite tea.” Ava giggled as she sat down next to Emma to help her take the meds and give her a sip of tea.

“Psh, Mahomes wishes he had this cannon for an arm.” Emma tried laughing but she done exhausted herself.

��Relax, you just underwent surgery. I’m actually impressed they released you so quickly.”

“Perks of having a doctor for a dad. I’m not about that hospital food.”

The two sat in silence for a moment while Emma sipped her tea. It was so nice just the two of them, Ava had Emma all to herself, no intruders, no boys, and no Bayla. Crap....Bayla was still her girlfriend.

Ava came to and realized she was stroking Emma’s delicate hair, resting her hand on Emma’s soft cheek. She quickly composed herself and stood abruptly, creating as much distance as possible.

What was this? What were they? Friends? More than friends? Ava knew what the answer should be, but the timing was terrible. Bayla was her own girlfriend, and Emma had her own issues.

A text shot through to Ava’s phone, it was Bayla. “Speak of the devil.” Ava whispered. She had been putting her off for long enough and by judging by the text she received, Bayla wasn’t happy.

“Ava?” Emma called out oblivious to Ava’s aggressive texting.

Ava turned immediately to face her, “Yeah?”

“Where are the boys?”

Ava doesn’t know why, but with her issues with Bayla and her feelings for Emma, hearing her ask for the boys really added fuel to her blazing fire.

“Idk. Mason is resting and Noah and Jennings are with the ski patrol.”

Emma could hear the aggression in Ava’s voice, but she couldn’t tell if it was at her texting or towards her about her question.

“Is everything alright Ava?”

“Yeah. It’s just Bayla. She’s bugging me because I haven’t responded in awhile.”

“Oh. I wonder what has her in a twist.” Emma asked innocently.

Ava knew why. She told Bayla before she left the arrangement, so naturally she had to keep tabs on her at all times. Trust between the two were slipping, but Ava wasn’t helping her cause and Emma wasn’t either. “Because that’s what a good girlfriend does!” Ava snapped surprising Emma. “She’s just concerned!”

“Oh. I understand, I’m sorry.” Emma apologized.

“No Emma you don’t! You don’t understand and you never will!” Ava said slamming her phone down on the counter and stomping towards the door.

Something told Emma deep within this was more than just Bayla being worried, she couldn’t help but think this was all her fault and the reason Ava was upset.

Ava had to get out and breathe, she loved Emma, but she couldn’t take her indecisiveness. She couldn’t stand competing for her hand any longer, it was time to set the record straight. She stepped back in to grab her phone before heading back out again.

“Where are you going?” Emma tried.

“I’ve got a phone call to make.”