#a little rambly bc it's from a very tired brain late at night

[elegyofthemoon]

😊

having a very happy and dumb little moment of kicking my legs around bc ive missed doing this hobby sm asldfjhal and its been nice to actually do it again with a friend now ; v ;

...oh right yeah we're supposed to NOT be shy about talking. my blog i do what i want. and ramble forever.

so um. i've been picking up voice acting again and nick's been indulging me with it lol it's a bonus for me because the way we'd do it is we'd both pick different scenes and we'd go through them together, giving each other delivery lines and etc. it's silly but it's fun for me anyways.

but it was suuuuch a ++++ for me because 1) i got to do my fave hobby again and like. kinda first thing in the morning. it's wild though because i woke up and was like :I i'd rather not do ANYTHING anymore i'm tired. but seeing how i went from :I to ^u^ the moment i started and then eventually losing track of time was .. nice lol and being able to do voicing for certain things i get nervous about voicing and basically trying to overcome things i was hesitant about was such a nice thing !!

2) it was very much an excuse for me to infodump to nick about what i've been getting into lately (yeah we were voicing some of the h.i3 scenes aslkfalkhj). i've been wanting to for a while but i always get so nervous about it being seemingly Dumb or getting so overly excited over something that might seem dumb to someone else.but :) my brain feels like it has been reset now thanks to me verbally infodumping so YIPPEE

sighs. but anyways. i'm in a good mood alksdfah i have to prep to go out of town this weekend, but i reaaaaaaally wanna go finish the h.sr story... i don't think i actually will before i go 😭😭and i was getting kinda sad about that last night but. letting the story boil in my brain for a bit and process is probably better for me anyhows. so i'll try not to rush myself on trying to finish everything. besides i don't interact w the fandom and keep to my own secluded corner of the universe so lol it's not like i'd be risking anything

[morkofday]

#10YearPromise - pingxie blabberings

bc i wasn’t able to answer these questions throughout the week (as i’ve been traveling around while being extremely busy), i decided to just collect all of my answers under one post! i never tire talking about pingxie so this was extremely enjoyable ♥ am also practicing some very shameless self promo in this so be prepared!

thank you for @laireshi​ for organizing this event (i take it’s you alone? am not sure, sorry for my laziness) and being amazing in general ^^ i won’t be able to join as i am still very busy and summer is always pure chaos for me, so i can only hope that other ppl have fun! if you are not aware of 10 Year Promise Pingxie Exchange, you can find the original announcement post here. join in if you have the time and inspiration ^^ 

and then to my answers which i will be placing under the cut bc i don’t want to flood anyone’s dash with me going bonkers over these two idiots. enjoy tho if you decide to read this :’D ♥

I. What made you ship pingxie?

Back when I got into Reboot bc of ZYL (as has happened to many ppl probably) and then saw stuff about pingxie once I started going through that drama’s tag on tumblr, my first thought about them was that they had to be a crack ship. The way Reboot portrays them as well as their actors and their huuuge age difference affected this a lot, and I was actually cackling at them bc all their moments in Reboot made me just go “oh, socialist brotherhood at its best” in my head. But then I finished watching Reboot’s 1st season (as the 2nd one wasn’t out yet) and started reading some fics. I learned more about them and the canon storyline. I learned how damn devoted they are to each other, and after that, many moments in Reboot gained new meaning in my eyes. So, I think what made me ship pingxie was a mix of Reboot (especially the hallucination moment where Xiaoge dies and Wu Xie loses it bc that’s my jam as I later on became to notice) and then the amazing fics I dug out during that time. After that the love grew stronger as I watched the other dramas, and these days I’m a lost cause. I feel like I spend most of my awake time thinking about these two and their love. They are amazing. I cry rivers for them.

II. Which pingxie version is your favorite?

After finding pingxie, I fell in love with them properly during TLT2. There is just something about that stage of their relationship for me, the stage where both of them are still very tentative about everything but they have deep down accepted that they’re tied now. Wu Xie is figuring out so many things, coming to terms with being betrayed by his uncle and slowly realizing that something bigger is going on behind the scenes. Meanwhile, Xiaoge is learning how to trust Wu Xie and how to accept that he cannot leave this naïve boy behind. It feels very fragile, and I have so many emotions about TLT2 bc of this. Xiaoge is so soft and feels very multilayered. Wu Xie is still his naïve self but is slowly gaining some sharper edges as he comes to face the cruel world. I like how Cheng Yi and Hou Minghao have portrayed this dynamic. Also, TLT2 is just very extra with all the pingxie scenes, who would be able to resist loving them? So, I have to admit that my favorite pingxie is these two, tho Ultimate Note comes very, very close.

III. What’s your favorite pingxie headcanon?

Headcanons are a bit hard for me as I don’t know enough of the canon. I have not read the novels so most of the story I’ve just patched together from all the bits I’ve read from somewhere (here, on twt, in fics) and through the scenes the dramas have shown me. I feel like the whole world is lowkey made of headcanons for me :’D But hmm, my favorite pingxie headcanon… I’d say there are two and then one bonus bc it’s more a Wu Xie related headcanon than just pingxie. The first one is that the pingxie confession happens after the Bronze Gate. It feels like the only moment when they’re both ready for such a thing. I’d say Xiaoge comes to realize his own feelings a lot earlier and he might tell something to unconscious Wu Xie before leaving for ten years, but he will not actually leave Wu Xie with such a burden. He doesn’t want to ask anything when it sounds like he doesn’t even believe that Wu Xie will be willing to wait for him, and I’d say that for him, his feelings are going to be fine even if Wu Xie never learns about them. He might even wish that Wu Xie never learns about them bc he’s not able to promise much as an immortal and amnesiac being (he outlives Wu Xie, most likely forgets him). For Wu Xie however, I’d say he needs time. He really is way too naïve and I’d say that he needs those ten years to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. I dunno who confesses first after Xiaoge returns but I think that only after that decade their relationship is “mature” enough to hold the weight of a confession (even if I also love to play around with the thought of them getting together during the events of Ultimate Note bc that drama offered many good chances for that). Another headcanon for me is that Xiaoge will find a way to die when Wu Xie does. After learning about them more, I feel like Reboot implies this too. Xiaoge is very accepting of Wu Xie’s death but in the last moments, when he really thinks that this is going to be it for Wu Xie, he hesitates. We see a spark of desperation there, and I’ve come to think that his initial plan, the plan he came up with once he got that call from Wu Xie and knew he would join Wu Xie on his last adventure, was to see this through for Wu Xie’s sake and then leave and die alone. I don’t know how much there would be left for Zhang Qiling after Wu Xie is gone. I feel like this is also what Wu Xie fears. But would he really resent Xiaoge for joining him in death after living such a long and hard life? I’d say no and I’d say that even Pangzi accepts this as one of the most likely outcomes. The bonus one then feels very personal to me. I don’t usually talk about this bc I feel so unsure of even mentioning this but I’ve seen others with similar thoughts so am sharing! I’ve never before gotten any vibes about a character’s sexuality in a drama I’ve watched but Reboot Wu Xie looked at me once in the eye and all I could hear was my brain yelling “asexual”. So, that is just my personal headcanon for Wu Xie. He’s ace and proud of it. He can flirt etc. but sex makes him go naah. He doesn’t need it or want it. He can appreciate beauty and hot ppl without wanting to sleep with them and I think his relationship with Xiaoge fits very well into this. I don’t have any personal experiences with being ace but I feel like Wu Xie has read the name once, shrugged and gone, “guess that’s me” and continued on with his life. He’s badass like that and I love him for it. (take a very relevant meme lol from this post)

IV. What’s the ideal pingxie date?

Ah, christ. I dunno if I’ve ever thought about them going on a date? In the middle of tomb raiding, hospital trips and fighting against powers bigger than themselves, I’ve rarely seen any time for them to do something like that lol. But after Ultimate Note, I’ve thought about star gazing a lot. Just them, the infinite night sky and some lonely hilltop. They would probably take a blanket with them, huddle together and talk about things in hushed voices. Wu Xie would go on a ramble about all the constellations and their meanings and mythology behind them and Xiaoge would just nod at him and watch Wu Xie talking. Maybe he would offer some tidbits in the middle of the rambling, making Wu Xie smile brightly. It would be relaxing and comfortable and loving. They would make out a lil bit. Would maybe lie down and play with each other’s hair. All their worries would feel insignificant. Wu Xie would fall asleep for a moment and Xiaoge would wake him up with a kiss to get him moving again so that they don’t need to sleep on the cold ground. They would return home and drink something warm and then go to sleep, cuddled together and happy. relevant edit x

V. What’s your favorite pingxie getting together scenario?

I guess I already talked about this a bit but let me elaborate then! As said, I’d see it happening after the Bronze Gate. I am not sure if it would be right away (they’re both going through so much trauma at that point) or if it would happen after Reboot (maybe we would still need Wu Xie almost dying for them to get their shit together), but I’d say it happens in a rush either way. It’s one of those “I have to tell you something before it’s too late” -type of moments. Or one of those “Bc I love you, you idiot!” -type of moments. I feel like I keep thinking that maybe Wu Xie would have to confess first bc as said, Xiaoge wouldn’t like to burden Wu Xie with his feelings when there’s so little he can give in the sense of normalcy. But then again, I have written a oneshot where Xiaoge is the first one to confess and that always feels better for me. That at some point Xiaoge feels secure enough to tell Wu Xie about his own feelings. That he feels confident and comfortable enough to say it out loud while still expecting nothing in return bc he knows that Wu Xie won’t abandon him either way. But no matter how that happens, I always see it as this dam breaking. The emotions finally become too strong. Something happens that reminds them that life is too short. Something happens that makes them finally talk it out and ah, Pangzi can finally take a break, what a joy

VI. What’s your favorite pingxie moment?

Every adaptation has its own good moments so let me make a list (like I saw someone else do too):

The Lost Tomb:

Xiaoge rescues Wu Xie from the shibie

Wu Xie worrying over unconscious Xiaoge plus taking care of him in the hotel room

The Pingxie MomentTM aka Xiaoge saving Wu Xie from falling and then cradling the boy to his chest while thumb rubbing his shoulder

The Lost Tomb 2:

Xiaoge revealed to be Baldie and Wu Xie yelling at him about it

Lowkey the whole underwater tomb arc bc holy shit that’s gay

Wu Xie losing it when Xiaoge doesn’t come up from the underwater tomb, diving after him and then almost dying himself + Pangzi getting angry at him for being stupid

pingxie ft. magical skype in the bronze tree cave (and Xiaoge being emo about the 1000yo warrior guy right before that)

Xiaoge rescuing Wu Xie from drowning (they shared air, you cannot convince me otherwise) + Wu Xie giving Xiaoge his watch in the hospital (relevant edits x x)

Wu Xie’s face when he sees Zhang Buxun in the coffin bc I love pain :)

Xiaoge not shooting Wu Xie despite not remembering him in the mountain village

Wu Xie grabbing Xiaoge’s jacket after being kidnapped and the Iron Triangle reunites in that old Chen guy’s cabin, asking, “Is that you?” from Xiaoge to make sure that he remembers again while looking like the biggest puppy (relevant edit x)

also some relevant memes x

Ultimate Note:

The hand over mouth reunion in the Golmud Sanatorium

“Xiaoge will ignore anyone else but you”

Xiaoge pretending he isn’t Losing ItTM throughout the whole time Wu Xie is in the Devil’s City with A-Ning

more hand over mouth with the gigantic snake

“The goddess has ascended”

Wu Xie protecting Xiaoge after he returns from the jade meteorite 

“Do you remember me?” “Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie promising to help Xiaoge find his memories no matter what bc Xiaoge’s business is Wu Xie’s business 

“Maybe you can return home with a wife today.” Wu Xie: proceeds to stare at Xiaoge, horrified

“Take me home.”

The sword gifting scene (especially Xiaoge denying the possibility of him killing Wu Xie or them harming each other, relevant edits x x)

other relevant edits for ultimate note x x

Reboot:

Wu Xie telling Xiaoge about his sickness and then Xiaoge coming back and promising to join Wu Xie on his trip (relevant edit x)

the death hallucination bc am a masochist 

Wu Xie’s death dream where Xiaoge calls to him but then accepts his choice to move forward bc am a masochist pt. 2

pingxie reunion in the Thunder City forest where Xiaoge saves Wu Xie & co. from the poisonous gas 

the moment in Thunder City where Wu Xie sits outside at night, eating the peanuts Pangzi gave him and then notices Xiaoge, offering him the peanuts and smiling 

when Xiaoge leaves for the last time and then gets reunited with healed Wu Xie against all odds

the train scene and their softest smiles to each other  

Time Raiders:

Wu Xie being the best bean and just wanting to befriend this mysterious man while seeing right under his skin and making Xiaoge baffled and fall in love in approximately 0.5 seconds

Xiaoge, catch! *proceeds to save only Wu Xie when they fall into that shibie horror chamber*  

Xiaoge’s desperation to save Wu Xie from the crumbling ground 

their death waltz at the end of the movie plus Xiaoge’s sacrifice

+ Sand Sea: 

“Don’t you dare call him Xiaoge!” 

Wu Xie offering his friends and then himself as comfort to Li Cu when he’s scared while smiling very softly at the memory of Xiaoge 

“But isn’t his surname Wu?” Hei Xiazi: You have seen nothing yet, you sweet summer child

Wu Xie talking about Xiaoge’s past in the temple (aka the Tibetan Sea Flower story bc I just adore how pretty they’ve made those scenes) 

VII. What is the best gift Wu Xie and Xiaoge could give each other?

I haven’t really thought about this type of stuff either bc we have already seen a ton of gifts being exchanged! I love the watch Wu Xie gives to Xiaoge in TLT2 as mentioned (it’s so silly but also so sweet) and I love it that Wu Xie gifts Xiaoge with a new sword in Ultimate Note. Also, I feel like I can count the food Wu Xie leaves for Xiaoge in Ultimate Note and that one moment where Xiaoge offers his knife for Wu Xie as a “pen”. They would give anything for each other as long as the other asked (which they never do) so I dunno what type of gift would matter the most. As it’s so hard to say, let me talk about one more headcanon that I’ve been thinking about ever since the infamous Bazaar photoshoot for Ultimate Note/XYL & ZSX. So, we see them having matching rings and necklaces in that photoshoot. I think jewelry would be kind of difficult for Xiaoge to wear when he needs to fight, as jewelry could be a hindrance in that type of situation But my brain won’t shut up about “pingxie married!!!” when I ask this question from it. To be honest, I do not see pingxie getting married in the traditional sense. They don’t need something like that after everything they’ve gone through. But I like to play around with the thought of promise rings. Just them exchanging rings for fun, for their own sakes, to have something concrete that reminds them of their promise to each other and of their feelings. Maybe even Xiaoge could wear that ring under his gloves idk. But am a sucker for that thought so my answer to this is then simply: a ring. relevant edits x x

if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope this gave you something and thank you once more for organizing this and allowing everyone to share their love for pingxie ^^ ♥

[sokka-with-his-hair-down]

oh my gosh ok im sending this before i forget it completely. so. idea. modern au azula works at build a bear (against her will) and she hates it so much and then jin comes in and makes a bear that looks like her like with the outfit and everything and she's like *oh* and she's still super oblivious that jin is obviously flirting because she's like zuko in that sense but yeah then she hates work a little bit less and then the next time jin comes in the store azula makes her a bear :) idk im tired

HSTSJSGSJSSKJ JULES YOUR MIND

this is so cute wait I need to ramble

(We all know I’m a sucker for Jinzula)

Azula is like oh😳😳 I’m?? Getting feelings?? And Jin is like hey😉 how r u😜 I’m Jin

Azula doesn’t respond with her name, she just says “nice to meet you” and goes back to work bc she’s a disaster lesbian okay

And when Jin comes in the second time, Azula’s panicking. She’s like “shsgsjdhksj pretty girl. Nice to me. Must be nice back.” So she makes her the bear. But when she goes up to give it to her she’s internally panicking a LOT and she doesn’t really know what to say so she just gets out “bear. I made it. For you.” and gives it to her, and then before Jin can say ANYTHING Azula promptly walks away.

Azula’s berating herself for the next few days. Why would you just walk away? Why??!??!

Anyway, Zuko mentions that he’s gonna be having someone over to study and for a (platonic) movie night. Azula figures she might as well join in sometime during the movie that evening to take her mind off things.

So. Azula gets home from work the night of Zuko’s Thing With a Friend. And she comes in, announces she’s home, goes to the kitchen for a late night snack, then turns the corner to the living room and—

Jin. Jin is there. With Zuko. And not only that, Jin is holding the bear that Azula made her amongst the piles of blankets.

Azula’s brain short-circuits and Jin bounds up and shouts “YOU!”

Jin explains to a very confused Zuko how she met Azula at build-a-bear and now Zuko’s grinning.

Azula internally groans. She’s never gonna hear the end of this.

Anyway, Azula is coerced into joining them for the movie, and Jin scoots up nice and close... and whispers that she wouldn’t mind of Azula agreed to go out with her sometime.

Azula nods, and finally, smiles.

Anyway sorry if that was barely coherent, it’s late and I should be sleeping. Thanks for the ask queen✨

[bre-meister]

Spiders

Thank you @over-under-through1 for the prompts!

Butch’s class had run late and for an already unusually late class to run late meant that by the time he turned his car onto his street it was already late enough that most houses were dark. An errant light could be seen behind closed curtains here and there - some even turning off as Butch drove by as if reading his mind that it was just utterly too late to be lurking about in or outside the house.

Pulling into the driveway of the small two-bedroom house he shared with his girlfriend, Butch contemplated whether he should risk opening the garage and pulling in or just leave the car outside tonight. He knew that Buttercup tended to complain that on late nights like these the sound of the garage door rattling as it opened was enough to wake a normal person let alone someone with super hearing. He could see lights flashing intermittently through the front window and assumed that Buttercup had been watching t.v on the couch trying to wait up for him. She might not be asleep but it was more likely than not - it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen asleep in front of the television. Butch was tired and already annoyed at being forced to be out so late because his professor’s tangents went on tangents. He wasn’t quite sure he had the patience to deal with a sleepy, pissed off Buttercup Utonium at the moment, so he turned the car off.

 Stepping out and closing the heavy door as quietly as he could, he made his way to the front door. He tried to keep his keys from clanging around too much while still trying to unlock the door. Butch expected the house to be quiet. Maybe he’d pick up on BC’s soft snores - she insisted she didn’t snore but Butch found it endearing if not a little cute - or the sounds of some random show playing from what he’d thought was the t.v. What he was not expecting, not in the slightest, were the multiple holes and char marks on the wall. 

A loud commotion in the living room caught his attention and he went into defense mode, floating above the floor to avoid making any sound. If there was an intruder - although anyone would be stupid to try to break into a Ruff or a Puff’s house - he didn’t want to alert them anymore to his presence than he already had when he opened and closed the door.

Turning the corner from the entry hallway into the main room he was shocked to see Buttercup floating above the couch, lasers firing from her eyes every few seconds.

Well, he thought, that explains the lights through the window.

“Buttercup,” he whispered. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence he repeated her name a bit louder, “Buttercup!” A bit louder turned into yelling to be heard over her war cries.

She paused and looked at him quickly before turning back to whatever she had been doing before. Without his powers aiding him in tracking her motions, he probably wouldn’t have realized she’d even acknowledged him at all. He might have been tracking her motions, but it seemed that she was tracking the movement of something else.

A quick scan of the room told him that there was no one else there but her and him.

“Buttercup,” he sounded exasperated, annoyed, confused, but also curious at the same time, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“Well,” she started to explain but her eyes were still looking around rapidly, “ I was in the kitchen because I had cooked and I wanted to leave you some food out for when you got back and I was cleaning up and then I came out here to sit on the couch and wait up but then I saw a spider and I almost had it until you distracted me and now I don’t know where it is!” her rambling had turned frantic by the end.

It Butch’s brain, tired as it was, a moment to catch up to what she had said.

“I - a spider?” Butch was dumbfounded. He knew that his girlfriend had a fear of the eight legged creatures but he never thought it would express itself in the physical act of putting holes in the wall.

“Yes a - “ something moved out of the corner of his eye and Buttercup squealed - a most dignified squeal that definitely did not sound like Bubbles thank you very much - “SPIDER, YOU GET THAT SIDE OF THE ROOM IT CAN'T RUN FROM BOTH OF US!”

Somehow, the spider was managing to evade her erratic eye beams so Buttercup changed her tactic. Another beam shot out turning those beautiful jade eyes a menacing red. Unlike its predecessors, this was not a quick, contained blast but one continuous beam. The lasers followed the spider who was, somehow, still managing to outrun the blast. Butch realized that Buttercup was either going to fry the spider or burn the house down trying. Butch rather liked their little start-up and would rather keep the damage to a minimum so he decided to step in.

“Buttercup stop! Calm down!”

The beam continued - she wasn’t listening. Thinking quickly Butch flew up behind her and covered her eyes with his hands, effectively blocking the beams. His palms burned from the intensity of the lasers. His hands being so close to the source didn’t help either. Briefly, Butch considered that he hadn’t completely thought this plan through. In the end though, it was better his X enhanced skin took the brunt of the attack rather than the already scorched walls. They wouldn’t have held up much longer from the looks of it.

“What the fuck, it’ll get away!”

“No, it won’t. It’s just sitting on the wall or, well, what’s left of it.” The last half of the sentence was mumbled but with their superpowers he was more than certain she had heard him.

“Just let me handle it ok? I’d rather not have to sleep in the cold because you burned our house down trying to get rid of a spider.”

“Whatever, just make sure it’s gone! And I mean gone. None of that, taking git outside shit just so it can come back later!I don’t want to see another spider in here ever again!”

If Butch were less mature like he’d been in his youth, he would have laughed at her for the way her tone wobbled. She was clearly shaken up by the idea of the things she feared - and that list was very small - invading her home, her safe space. But this Butch, the one who had grown and matured recognized that teasing would only cause her to clam up and when it came to Buttercup and fear, her bottling it up never boded well for the future.

So, Butch simply slung his backpack around his shoulder and opened the bag. As he made his way closer to the arachnid he pulled out one of his textbooks. Crouching down, so he was level with the spider, Butch took a moment to address it,

“Sorry little guy. I hate to do this but,” he shrugged, “the missus had spoken.” 

Standing up, Butch swung quickly using the hard textbook to end their little spider problem. He collected a tissue from another pocket in his backpack to wrap up the squashed spider.

Walking into the kitchen he saw Buttercup by the stove. The microwave was going behind her and she fidgeted as Butch leaned around her to deposit the tissue in the trashcan.

“Is it… is it over?” She asked quietly.

Butch couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped as he answered,

“Yes, Sunshine. It’s over.” he moved in closer, hands rising to grab her hips when suddenly she was on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Uh uh. Wash your hands first!”

Butch raised his hands in front of him as he moved towards the sink. He made a show of washing and drying his hands. When he was done, he held them out in front of him, eyebrow raising,

“Good?”

“I suppose,” she hummed.

Butch spread held his arms out further and just as quickly as she’d dogged him earlier, she was in his arms. Her own wrapped around his neck as he placed his on her waist.

“Thank you. I know it’s kind of stupid but -”

“No,” he interrupted softly, “the way you feel, your fears? They’re never stupid. Not to me. I’ll gladly slay a spider for you anyday, butterfly. Especially if it means keeping the house from falling down.”

“I am sorry about that.” Buttercup looked over her shoulder at the decimated wall that used to separate the kitchen from the living room.

“Well, look on the bright side.” She said after a moment.

“And that would be?” Butch was genuinely curious as to what she was about to come up with.

“I mean, it wasn’t a load bearing wall,” she turned back to him and shrugged her shoulders, “ Now we have that open floor plan I’ve been saying I wanted.” Buttercup smiled playfully.

The laugh that escaped Butch’s moth was sudden and loud. If the neighbors hadn’t awoken by all the lasers and shouting they certainly would by the loud laughter at such a late hour.

Butch’s stomach growled reminding him that it was late and he hadn’t eaten since early afternoon. Buttercup’s light laughs joined him at the sound. Butch ignored his hunger. Instead, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Buttercup’s lips.

The two separated once the microwave beeped, signaling it was done heating up whatever was inside it.

“Common Mr. Hero. I put your plate in the microwave. Eat so we can go to bed. I’m tired and it’s late.”

Butch preened at the nickname knowing that it was only half a joke. Reluctantly he let her go sso she could get his food out of the microwave. He moved to the fridge to get them drinks before returning to the table where Buttercup now sat, a plate of hot food in front of his usual seat. Butch couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

They talked as he ate. She told him about her day and he did the same. As she launched into a story about some of the characters, as she called them, that visited her bakery - a small start up but Butch just knew that, with Buttercup’s talent, it would take off - Butch couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t mind the late nights as long as he got to spend them with her.

[fabulouspotatosister]

Sugar, Yes Please

Summary: You first meet the Doctor standing in your kitchen, opening jars of sugar.

A/N: This fic was inspired by this prompt by @drink-it-write-it​ on tumblr! Originally I was going to follow this prompt to the letter, and then it went in a different direction, but that is definitely still where I got the inspiration from. Enjoy the fic!

Word Count (bc man this got LONG): 6,991

Here’s a link to the AO3 version in case you vibe with that more

The café, for all intents and purposes, was your home.

With its old polished wood floors and pastel blue walls, it was probably someone’s aesthetic dream. You could look back fondly on the long hours you spent wiping down counters and delivering coffee to the college students that frequented the place. Every round table held a wealth of memories – if you looked between the cracks in the wood, you’d find conversations, sweet words exchanged over a pastry or bitter stares over glasses of cold iced tea, each time a microcosm of human interaction. Whole lives had been lived in the Heaven Café – people came and people went, each time leaving the place a little different.

After the original owner – a lady who wore predominantly pink frocks and frilly aprons and was very young at heart – moved out of the café after she got married, she gave you the keys to the second floor of the building.

They used to call her “Miss Baker”, and insisted the nickname be passed to you when you got put in charge.

The second floor was a nice apartment with a pretty balcony and big windows that let in a lot of sunlight and/or moonlight. It was strange for the first few nights, sleeping in a bed clearly made for two, but after a few weeks, it was second nature to fall into the cozy patchwork sheets after a long day.

The Heaven Café was your home. And wouldn’t you be mad if someone broke into your home?

The moon was high in the sky that night, and its light spilled into your bedroom, illuminating all the corners of the room and bathing everything in a silver light. There was nothing but the sound of passing cars and crickets. It looked like a good night to watch the stars and fall asleep looking out the window – until you heard a strange noise from outside the window.

You sat up. It was a wheezing, groaning noise, that faded in and out, growing to a crescendo until it finally disappeared. The building was an old one. You were no stranger to strange noises in the night, it came with the territory. But that was something you had never heard before. Pushing yourself off your bed, you leaned out the window to look at the street below.

It was still the same street, save for a police box that was placed further down. Weren’t those things really old? Did anyone still use those?

There was another noise from downstairs. Something metal, clattering to the ground, perhaps a pan or a tray. And then – panicked muttering. It sounded like it was from a young man, with a British accent… What was going on down there?

You tried to make sure that your brain didn’t go to the worst possible situation – that you were being robbed. Throwing on a jacket that you had draped over a chair and turning on the flashlight on your phone with trembling hands, you opened the creaky door out of your bedroom and headed down the stairs into the café’s kitchen. Why would anyone rob you? You didn’t earn much, just enough to pay utility bills and buy groceries; you didn’t even have any jewelry! And if you had anything of value it was probably just stuff that looked expensive, like a large apple sculpture that was just plastic.

The rooms downstairs, unlike the upstairs apartments, didn’t have big windows, just windows that were enough to keep the place cool and ventilated when it got a bit too hot inside. This had the unintended side effect of making the place dark as hell when it was nighttime.

The light from your phone’s flashlight was the only thing that pierced through the darkness, your phone’s case suddenly feeling very slippery as your hands started to sweat. It’s not a robber, you thought, trying to calm the panic that was rising up your throat. It’s probably just a rat, or something. But that didn’t explain the young man’s voice, unless rats could talk now. Which was stupid, since rats couldn’t talk…

You let your rambling thoughts keep you company as your bare feet stepped against wooden floorboards. At least it wasn’t frighteningly quiet anymore – you heard the sound of something being pushed against a counter, and then more muttering. After that was the sound of someone rummaging through utensils, the clink clank of metal against metal echoing against the quiet halls of the building.

The kitchen door was closed, but light spilled out of the gap between the door and the floor.

Turning off the flashlight on your phone, you turned the device over in your hands. Would it hurt someone if you hit them over the head with it? What were you even going to say? Who are you? What are you doing here? Don’t move? You weren’t intimidating. You were dressed in loose clothes and a jacket. The worst you could do was cry for help, which would only work if anyone was still awake at this hour.

Now that you were closer you could hear shuffling, and you could hear the voice that you had heard before a little clearer – saying something about sugar.

You took in a deep breath, releasing it through your nose. Holding your phone above your head like a makeshift weapon, you reached for the handle of the kitchen door, letting your fingers curl around the old metal.

Okay. Three… two… one -!

You flung the door open – but the sight before you was enough to shock the words out of you.

You were right about the clattering noise. There was indeed a tray that had fallen on the kitchen’s tiled floor, one of the muffin trays. The rest of the room was in disarray. Most of the cupboards had been opened and ransacked, bags of flour had been laid out on the floor and someone had broken into your sugar supply, the various jars of all the different sugars laid out on a counter. And in the middle of all that, behind the counter opening one of the sugar jars, was a young man in a tweed jacket with floppy hair and a bowtie.

You stood frozen in the doorway, phone still held aloft like you were going to bring it down over his head – the young man had frozen in his tracks, his finger held in the air as he was about to stick it in a jar of confectionary sugar.

Suddenly, the young man jumped back, slamming the lid back onto the jar. “Miss Baker! I thought you were closed!” he cried, backing up against the counter behind him.

So - he was the source of the muttering and talking. You still couldn’t wrap your head around how and why he was in your kitchen at an ungodly hour raiding your sugar. And why he called you “Miss Baker”.

“How did you get in?” was the only thing that came out of your mouth. “Did you break in?”

“I expertly maneuvered my way in,” the young man said proudly. His smile fell slightly after you raised an eyebrow at him – “I broke in.”

“I should be calling the police right now,” you muttered, and the young man nodded.

“You should be calling the police. Upstanding citizen, you are – but don’t, please.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I thought you were closed, and that I could pop in for a little visit without you getting mad, but I forgot that you tend to be awake at this hour.”

He forgot that you were usually awake late at night? You didn’t even know this man. “Why the sugar?” you asked, using your free hand to gesture at the jars of sugar while keeping your other hand on your phone in case he tried anything. Which he probably wouldn’t, to be honest, as he was quite tall and lanky and didn’t look built for combat.

The young man looked at the sugar, then back to you, clapping his hands together. “I needed some for some defense against some Yamar natives – they don’t have much sugar on their planet, so their bodies aren’t built for handling it. Like snails to salt, or so I’m told. I was testing these to see which ones would be the sweetest – you’ve told me this before, Miss Baker, but bakers on other planets right now would be very jealous of you, perfect defense against the Yamars.”

You couldn’t even form a good coherent thought. Yamars? Other planets? Was he talking about aliens?  “You’ve told me this before”? Was this man crazy?

“I’m not –” You shook your head. “I’m not Miss Baker, you must have the wrong person.”

“No, no I’m sure I’ve got the right time,” the young man said, taking a look at his watch.

“Hang on – who are you?” you asked.

The man froze, his eyebrows raised in surprise before his face fell, disappointed.

“Oh no,” he said simply, sticking his hands in his pockets and suddenly looking very sheepish. “I’ve come a little too early, haven’t I? Tell me, do you know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you countered back, and the man chuckled, looking down at the floor.

“Yes, but also no. Not yet,” the man replied. He took the jar of confectionary sugar and screwed the lid on tight, then bundled it into his arms like you would a small child. “It’s complicated.”

It was definitely complicated. The young man stepped over the fallen muffin tray, grimacing at the room. He squeezed past you, still standing in the doorway, his shoes making small sounds against the floor. “I’m sorry about the mess– I really must be off, thank you for the sugar– “

“W-wait!” you cried, turning to face him, “You need to come back and explain– “

But the young man was already gone.

You shook your head, lowering your phone, suddenly very tired after all that. It had been a long night, and it was very late.

Maybe this is just all some strange dream, you thought as you switched off the lights in the kitchen. Shutting the door quietly, your thoughts still racing at a mile a minute, you pulled your jacket tighter against yourself as you began the journey back upstairs to your bed, where you could forget all about the weird events of the night. I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and the kitchen will be clean. There was never a strange man there looking for sugar.

Nothing happened.

---

Something had happened.

You didn’t know why you woke up early the next day, before anyone else had arrived, to check the kitchen. Part of you wanted to be ignorant, to have one of your employees tell you that the kitchen was a mess and then tell you that it was probably rats because it should be rats – but there was another part of you that was curious, didn’t care if it killed you, and was okay with satisfaction not bringing you back.

The kitchen was still a mess. The bags of flour were still left on the floor, the jars of sugar were still arranged on the counter, cupboards and cabinets were still ajar, and the fallen muffin tray was still lying sadly on the floor.

You sighed, picking your way through the mess to pick up the tray – turning it over in your hands, it wasn’t damaged. That was good. God knows what the previous owner would do if you dented some of her equipment.

So last night hadn’t been a dream. The whole thing with the strange man asking for sugar had been unfortunately real, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your brain.

You were planning to call the police – but again, what would you tell them? A strange man broke into my establishment and took a jar of sugar. No, he didn’t harm me, he just confused me immensely. No, I can’t tell you where he went, because he disappeared. Go after him? Why would I do that? Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the door to the kitchen swinging open.

“This place is a mess.”

You turned around, muffin tray still in your hands, to see a young lady in an apron wringing her hands together – “Erica!”

“That’s my name,” Erica said, smoothing over the front of the Heaven Café’s uniform apron – hand-sewn by the previous owner for all her old employees. They were pink, frilly things. They were like hand-me-downs, and like most of the things in the building, were to be treated with the utmost care. “What did you do, boss? It looks crazy in here.”

“Long story,” you sighed, trying to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Erica simply hummed and made her way to the center of the room, hoisting up one of the bags of flour. Erica was a fairly new hire, but she was nice and attentive and kept the atmosphere cheery even during the rush hour. “It was a weird night.”

“I’ve had a few weird nights,” Erica said, pushing a bag of flour into a cabinet and slamming the door. Her hand hovered over the counter, then sugar jars, her palm just inches away from the sweet powder. “Ugh, what’s with all the sugar? One, two… five… one of the jars is missing.”

“That’s part of the weird night.” You opened the cabinet with all the trays and placed the muffin tray at the very top, balancing precariously on top of a mixing bowl. “Why are you interested in the sugar jars?”

“For you, boss. I don’t touch the stuff.”

You shook your head. “Well, some guy just came in and took one of the sugar jars, talking about aliens. I thought I was dreaming.”

Erica was quiet for a moment, before she asked, “What did he look like?”

“It was late, but uh…” You pressed your thumb against your temple, trying to dig the young man’s description out of your still very confused brain. “He was a tall guy? He had a British accent, he was wearing a tweed jacket with a bowtie, I mean who dresses like that these days?”

“…A tweed jacket?” Erica glanced towards the door of the kitchen.

“Exactly! It’s 2020, I don’t know why someone would be –“

“Boss.” Erica tapped your shoulder. She drew her mouth into a thin line, closing her hand into a fist and bringing it to her chest. “Your mystery guy might be here.”

“What?” You whipped around, slamming the doors to the tray cabinet shut – the metal things clattered against each other loudly and you winced. Erica shrugged, her face reflecting your confusion.

“I mean, you said no one dresses like him anymore, right? He’s sitting by the window, just reading the menu.” Erica turned to look at the door again. “I tried to approach him and he said he was looking for Miss Baker.”

“For the last time, I’m not Miss Baker.”

“You technically are.” Erica shrugged. “Do you know him?”

“Why would I know him? He broke into the building last night!” you said, raising your hands up in the air. Erica raised her eyebrows at you. “What? I’m not going to go talk to him.”

“He’s a customer. And he is your mystery man.” Erica was already making her way to the front of the café. She stopped, resting her hand on the doorway and grinning widely. “And he’s pretty cute, not gonna lie.”

You felt your face grow warm. “He’s not my ‘mystery man’, I don’t know what you’re – Erica! Erica! Get back here!”

You only heard Erica’s laugh echo down the hall. You sighed for maybe the fiftieth time that day, running your hand over your face – the day could not get any weirder.

You were about to be proven wrong.

Erica was right. Your “mystery man” (God, why were you calling him that it sounded so ridiculous) was indeed sitting by the window – his face was covered by the menu, the only thing you could clearly see being his long hair that flopped against his forehead. To someone else, he would have looked like he was reading, but there were a lot of customers like him. People that came in just to hide. And he was hiding.

From me? Why would he be hiding from me? If anything, I should be hiding from him, the weirdo…

The young man peeked over the menu, his eyes darting across the room before they finally landed on you. The corners of his eyes crinkled and even though the rest of his face was covered, you could tell he was smiling – what kind of man breaks into your home, steals sugar, disappears, and then smiles at you like nothing happened the next day?

The sight of a young man dressed in a tweed jacket and a bowtie sitting in a cute café was a lot to take in. Grabbing a spare notepad and tucking a pen behind your ear, you made your way towards the young man, plastering a smile onto your face – “Hi, welcome to Heaven Café, what can I get you?”

The young man set the menu down, and your breath caught in your throat. Erica was right again – at this point, you probably owed the girl money – your “mystery man” was actually quite cute. The young man lifted his wrist to glance at his watch before smiling nervously and setting the menu flat on the table.

“I’ve come to apologize,” he said.

You customer-service smile dropped. “For last night.”

“Yes,” he replied, “although somewhat preemptively. It hasn’t happened yet. Or it will. I am sorry, though.”

“What do you mean, ‘it hasn’t happened yet?’” you spluttered, the pitch of your voice raising higher and higher and suddenly you were very glad there was no one else there in the café. “It did happen! You were there!”

“I was there!” the young man said cheerfully. “I will be there, and I know you’ll be very upset about it.”

“I am upset about it!”

The young man’s smile vanished. “Oh, you really are.”

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t hit you this notepad right now,” you hissed, your chest getting tighter and tighter, your anger and confusion mixing into one messy cocktail.

“I’m a customer, Miss Baker! You can’t harm me.” The young man leaned back in his chair. “Or maybe you can – humans, always so violent.”

Humans? “For the last time, I’m not ‘Miss Baker’.”

“Then I suppose this is when you tell me your real name.” The young man grinned, something mischievous hidden in his green eyes. “The question is, Miss Baker, who are you?”

“I asked you first.” You glanced at the clock above him – it was still early, but it was almost time for the morning rush, when all the stressed-out office workers and late university students poured in for their daily dose of coffee. You couldn’t sit here and talk to this man – no matter how many questions you had, you had a job to do. “You know what? Let me get you something, and then you can explain.”

“Right, then, I’ll have tea. A classic. Very lucrative Earth export, in about a few thousand years,” the young man said brightly. Then he frowned. “No, wine. That’ll make me look sophisticated – no, wine’s rubbish.”

Before you could interrupt that the café didn’t even serve wine, the young man suddenly looked up at you, sporting a youthful smile. “What about a banana milkshake?”

---

The young man’s name, you quickly learned, was the Doctor. This didn’t answer any of your questions, because after taking a few sips from his banana milkshake he had run out the door, nearly knocking over one of your employees, Emil, who was clocking in late.

“I’ll explain tomorrow!” he had yelled when you chased after him.

“You’d better!” you’d yelled back. You thought you heard him laugh before he disappeared behind a corner.

The Doctor didn’t come by the next day. Or the day after that.

You would never admit that the Doctor had been the only thing on your mind for an entire week. The young man had an air of mystery about him, like he knew more than he was telling you. He had the face of a child but the air of someone much older – and you had gleaned all of this just from a seven-minute conversation and a strange encounter in your kitchen. For a mystery, he was surprisingly easy to read.  

But aside from that, the week was pretty normal. It was the same old writing names on paper cups and getting flour all over your good pants. After a few days, you’d written off meeting the Doctor as a fluke, a once-in-a-lifetime meeting with someone who was just incredibly unique.

Yes, it might have been a fluke, but there was a niggling sense of missing out on something – like there was a whole universe that you had just brushed against, and whole new world to explore, and you’d missed it. One thing about working in a place that’s full of life, you thought, staring out the large window in the front, where the Doctor had sat, is that you’re always just hearing about it but never living it.

“Miss Baker?”

You turned around, letting a sigh escape your pursed lips. The sound almost became a whistle. “Emil, I told you not to call me that.”

Emil – a tall, sweet man with a very big smile – actually smiled one of his famous smiles, but a bit sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, no doubt getting flour in his hair. “Sorry, it’s a habit. You know I got hired before you did.”

“That means you’re old, Emil,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Erica’s gone again,” Emil replied, “that kid. What does she do when we’re not looking?”

You shrugged, turning back around to face the window, watching the setting sun. Erica had a reputation for being young and a bit of a hotshot among everyone working at the Heaven Café. You didn’t think too much of it. “I don’t know. She is just a kid.”

“So are you.” Emil stood next to you. “But I trusted Miss Baker when she turned the place over to you. She was a good boss.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “And I’m not?”

Emil laughed, rubbing a flour-stained hand over your head, like an annoying big brother. Thank god it was closing time. “I don’t have anything against you, boss.”

The front door swung open. You and Emil turned around to see that a tall, thin man had just walked in, his hands in the pockets of a well-fitted blue suit. The man looked, for lack of a better term, sharp – not “sharp” as in “smartly-dressed”, but he had edges.

“Excuse me, sir,” you called out. The man turned around, one sharp eyebrow raised. He looked like you would get a paper cut if you touched him. “It’s late. We’re closing.”

The statement came more like a question, and the man raised his eyebrow higher, if it was even possible. “Sorry. Bit rude of me. I’m looking for something.”

Oh. British. What was up the shop and attracting strange but attractive British men?

“Sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Emil said. The man hummed in response, a pensive expression on his face.

“Wrong choice of words. I’m tracking something,” the man said, pulling a screwdriver from the inside of his suit jacket. Suddenly, the screwdriver began to hum and glow blue, and upon closer inspection was not a screwdriver at all. He swept the not-screwdriver over the room. “Have you two seen anything strange recently?”

Stranger than you? “No, sir,” Emil replied, his voice tight.

“I’ve just said it, I’m tracking something!” the man said. The not-screwdriver stopped humming and glowing and the man looked into the end of it, squinting. “Ooh, that’s weird. Weird readings. Are you sure you haven’t seen anything?”

“Sorry, what are you doing here?” Emil asked, stepping in front of you. The man frowned at him.

“I’ve been following strange patterns through time, and they’ve led me here.” The man said, raising his head to meet your eyes. His eyes were brown and deep and strangely familiar. “I’m supposed to meet you. Who are you?”

Before you could even say “I could ask you the same thing”, there was a loud crashing sound. And then a high-pitched scream. Emil turned to face you, his eyes wide.

“It sounded like it came from the kitchen,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Emil, I’ll go,” you said, furrowing your brows. “You stay here.”

Emil laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder. It left a flour handprint on your shirt. “Are you worried about me? You’re still young. I’ll go check it out.”

Another crash rang out – it sounded like something glass crashing to the floor and shattering – and then another sound of pain, but more guttural. It didn’t even sound human. Your stomach twisted with dread, and you glanced at the mysterious man, who nodded at Emil.

“I’ll come with you,” the man said, and Emil shook his head, already walking away.

“Stay here, sir,” Emil called out, then made his way to the kitchen. The man shook his head, chuckling.

“Sorry. I don’t have the best track record for following instructions,” he began. He paused, casting his gaze onto you – which was surprisingly intense from a man that was just so thin. Once again, a sense of familiarity struck you – you knew this man, but how? “Right, you. Who are you?”

“You first,” you countered. The man grinned.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, and your mouth fell open.

No, he wasn’t the Doctor. The Doctor was that cute floppy-haired young man in tweed you’d met a week ago. The man in front of you wasn’t the Doctor – he couldn’t be the Doctor, because – “I’ve met the Doctor,” you said, a little unsure, “and he doesn’t look like you.”

“That happens a lot,” he said absently, “I think I’ve got one of those faces.”

Distantly, you heard a yell, and another metallic clatter. Your whole body jerked in surprise – it sounded like Emil.

Before you could protest, the Doctor grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen.

You tried to tear yourself away from the Doctor’s grip as he stopped just steps away from the kitchen door. The Doctor still held on tightly to your arm. The clattering and yelling continued, and now you were definitely sure it was Emil. “What are you doing? We have to go help him!”

The Doctor raised a finger to his lips, his eyes wide. “Shh! Listen.”

Among Emil’s grunts of pain and the loud sound of metal and glass crashing to the floor, there was another sound – one that was more animalistic, like the growl of a hungry beast. But it sounded strange, like there was another voice layered beneath it.

“Hungry…”

“Stay behind me,” the Doctor said lowly, and you nodded. Raising his not-screwdriver, he took slow, careful steps towards the open door. His free arm was outstretched over you.

When you finally reached the open door, you fought back a scream – surrounded by broken glass and fallen trays was Emil, his face twisted in pain as he pushed against a slimy, pulsing tentacle. Your gaze followed the writhing flesh to its owner, some kind of wriggling mass that reminded you too much of a tongue to feel comfortable with it. The wriggling mass growled, keeping Emil pinned to the floor. He whipped his head to the side and met your eyes, his whole body trembling.

“Help!” Emil cried. You sprung forward to Emil’s side and tried to grab at the tentacle’s skin – if you could even call it skin. You felt a shudder run down your spine as your own hands became covered in the slimy substance that coated it – what the hell is going on?!

From the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor, waving his not-screwdriver at the mass of flesh. “What’s kept you hidden for so long? Perception filter? Must be a good one if it’s hidden something like you.”

You pushed against the tentacle keeping Emil pinned tightly to the floor, but it didn’t budge. “I can’t move it! Doctor, HELP!”

“What are you?” the Doctor asked, squinting at the end of his not-screwdriver.

“Ya…mar…” the mass growled lowly, and you paused. Now why did that sound…

“I needed some for some defense against some Yamar natives –“

The Doctor joined you beside Emil, pointing his not-screwdriver at the tentacle. It didn’t do anything. “And what do you want?” the Doctor asked again, pressing his elbow into the tentacle and ruining his nice suit.

The mass made a low noise before speaking. “Hungry… Boss…”

You froze, your mouth falling open. Boss?

Whipping your head around to face the wriggling, slimy, mound of flesh, something caught your eye. Hanging off of it was a pink, frilly apron, now ruined and torn and slimy, hand-sewn for all of the employees at the Heaven Café… hand-me-downs…

“Erica?” you breathed out, and the mass moved, as if responding to the name.

“That’s Erica?!” Emil asked loudly.

“Boss…” it said, a young woman’s voice coming through underneath the growling, alien one. “Hungry…”

“You know her?” the Doctor asked. You shook your head dumbly.

“Employee,” was all you managed to say. “She’s an employee.”

“Whoah!” Emil gasped – he started squirming underneath the massive tentacle, as if trying to get away. A strange burning smell filled the room, and Emil started squirming harder. “What the – my clothes!”

The Doctor stared at his hands, then at his elbow – the spot that had been covered with the slime was being eaten away, revealing bare skin. “The slime’s corrosive! Wipe your hands on something!”

You quickly rubbed your palms on your own Heaven Café apron, watching as the slime you’d just wiped away ate through some of the cloth, leaving only an empty patch behind. Despite all the madness, you managed to sigh – the real Miss Baker was going to come for your head now for destroying her aprons. And for hiring a weird fleshy monster.

“What the fuck is up with weird things and ruining my kitchen?” you muttered.

“Oi, that’s quite rude,” you heard the Doctor say.

You looked up at the Doctor, who had his not-screwdriver out again. “Why hasn’t it eaten through our skin?”

“I don’t think it can. Unless – “

The Doctor was cut off by Emil screaming – the smell of something burning suddenly became the smell of burnt hair, and you assumed that if you didn’t work fast enough it would become the smell of burning flesh.

“What do we do?”

“It says it’s a Yamar, I’ve never met a Yamar!” the Doctor said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Nine-hundred years of time and space and I’ve never met a Yamar.”

“You haven’t? But you told me –“

The Doctor pocketed his not-screwdriver and pressed against the tentacle again, groaning in frustration. “I probably haven’t told you yet! Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, and all that – I don’t think I’ve met them yet!”

You blinked. The other Doctor had talked about time, and knowing the future – if he didn’t know now maybe the reason why he knew then was because…

“…they don’t have much sugar on their planet, so their bodies aren’t built for handling it.”

“Like snails to salt…” you murmured. You stood up quickly, scrambling to get to a cabinet – “Sugar!”

“What?” Emil and the Doctor said in unison.

“I know what we need!” You flung open a cupboard to find your jars of different sugars, with one still missing. You took all the jars of sugar you could carry and bundled them into your arms. You opened one of the jars, taking in a fistful of sugar. “I’m the envy of bakers across the universe - Yamars don’t like sugar, so we should be able to-”

You threw the handful of sugar onto the tentacle holding Emil down and watched as it burned through its slimy coating. The mass made a shrieking noise, and retracted the tentacle, pulling it back into it’s large body.

“I’m alive,” Emil gasped, placing his hands on his chest, “I’m alive!”

“Right you are,” the Doctor said, helping Emil to his feet.

“No,” the mass gurgled, “Boss. Hungry.”

You stared up at the strange thing – you had to be dreaming. There was no way that this monster could be one of your employees. There was no way that there could even be a monster at all in your café. You had met Erica and she wasn’t like that. But there it was, standing and wriggling in the middle of your kitchen, and it had nearly eaten another one of your employees.

“Sorry, Erica,” you muttered, opening another jar of sugar, the largest one you had, “it’s been a weird night.”

You threw the jar at the wriggling mass; the sugar flew out and struck it, and the creature screamed, a terrible gurgling sound, as the sugar burned through its skin until there was nothing left but a steaming pile of slime on the nice tiled floors of your kitchen. You stared at the pile of slime, taking huge, heaving breaths like you’d just run a marathon.

A weird night. Definitely understatement of the year.

A big smile spread across your face – and despite all of the weird things that had just happened, and despite the fact that you were covered in cloth-and-flesh-eating slime, you laughed.

The Doctor ran up to you, clapping on the shoulders. “Brilliant, how did you know how to do that?”

You blinked. “You told me.”

The Doctor simply grinned. “I think it’s the other way around, Miss…”

A thought flashed through your head – it was impossible, but so many impossible things had just happened. And the Doctor was already such an impossible man - Screw it, right?

“Baker. Call me Miss Baker,” you finally said, grinning back at him. “Uh, do you want a banana milkshake?”

---

It took another week for you to convince yourself that what you were feeling wasn’t a severe case of FOMO.

The spiky-haired Doctor didn’t leave for a long time. He stayed with you until it was quite late and even after you’d sent Emil home to rest, helping you clean the glass and the slime and giving you tips on how to clean slime from surfaces. Eventually, just like the other Doctor, he left too, but he didn’t make any promises.

It still didn’t mean it wasn’t disappointing when he didn’t come back the next day.

You spent a lot of nights in bed thinking about that night. It still didn’t seem real at all. All the things that had happened made the café seem like a much more magical place – it was still your home, and there were still stories to be collected and told, but now there were things that were impossible written on the walls. You couldn’t help but smile everytime you walked into the kitchen – how were you going to tell new employees that the place had been covered in slime once?

The answer was that you didn’t. As much as you wanted to tell everyone you met, probably no one would believe you – no one but Emil, who didn’t show up the next day and simply left an apologetic, but somewhat incoherent, text message.

That left you to manage most of the café. It was a slow day, with only a few people coming in and out and ordering simple orders.

That left you to do one thing you were good at – thinking. You were good at thinking. And you thought a lot about that night, and how it could have gone differently. You could have asked the Doctor to stay, or you could have asked where he was going, or you could have asked if you could go with him. A chance at a real adventure had slipped by you again.

No, you thought, screwing your eyes shut. You were home. You were supposed to be content.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up. Standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, was a very pretty young lady – her brown hair fell over her shoulders, her big eyes shining under the lights of the café. She smiled brightly at you, and waved.

“Yes, hello,” you said after a while. “Sorry. Welcome to the Heaven Café, what can I get you?”

“Oh -” The young woman looked up for a moment, thinking, and then she looked behind her. Standing not too far away from her was an older man, with a head of curly, white hair, his hands in the pockets of his coat. Was that a hoodie under his coat? The man nodded at her, and the young woman turned back to you. “A coffee and a banana milkshake, please.”

“Dine in or take out?” you asked, and the woman grinned.

“Take out,” she said, “sorry. We’re a bit busy.”

“That’s no problem. Just give me a minute, miss…”

“Clara,” she supplied, leaning over the counter. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

You turned away from her to prepare the coffee, grabbing a small paper cup and walking carefully to the machine. “Thanks! What’s brought you here?”

“Recommendation from a friend,” Clara said. You could still hear the smile in her voice. “I’ve heard good things about the place.”

“Like?”

“Good sugar,” she said, and you nearly dropped the cup.

You set the coffee in front of her with shaking hands and promptly made your way to the blender, the cogs of your brain not working. You dared a glance at the man Clara had come with. The two of them were talking now, their voices drowned out by the roar of the blender. Then the man had to be…

You gave Clara the banana milkshake in the paper cup and she muttered a quick “thanks” before handing it to the man behind her.

You stared at the man. He was older now, definitely different, but there was the same familiarity in his eyes. The corners of the man’s mouth lifted in a small smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you, again,” Clara said hurriedly, placing a few bills on the counter, “We’ve got to go. Keep the change.”

“No problem, come back soon,” you murmured, still looking at the man. Clara nodded at him and he seemed to collect himself, raising a hand in farewell before rushing out of the door with Clara, disappearing into the street outside.

Yeah, you thought, still staring at the spot where the two of them had been. It was definitely FOMO.

Before you could get lost in your thoughts again, the sound of the door opening kept you from falling into a pit of overthinking. You wiped your hands over your new apron, ran a hand through your hair, and plastered on your best customer service smile.

“Welcome to the Heaven Café, what can I get you?” you said.

A blonde woman had walked in, dressed in a flowing lilac coat and suspenders, her smile wide and bright and awfully familiar. “I’ll have a banana milkshake,” she said, and you frowned.

What was up with people and ordering banana milkshakes today? You looked down, quickly noting the order. “Okay, ma’am. What’s your name?”

“Ma’am. I can never get used to that.” The woman smiled, adjusting a bundle of cloth in her arms. “The Doctor.”

Your head whipped up, meeting the woman’s eyes, and for all you knew the café could have disappeared – all you could see was her smiling at you, the same mischievous glint hidden behind new eyes. “Sorry I’m late, Miss Baker.”

“You already know my name,” you said. The Doctor shifted, removing the cloth from the bundle in her arms, and you gasped – it was your sugar jar, the one she had taken and promised to return, still in pristine condition with hardly any sugar removed. “And my sugar!”

The Doctor set the jar on the counter, resting her hand on it. “It’s served me well! Thank you.”

“You’re two weeks late,” you muttered, still frozen in place.

“No, I’m a few hundred years late,” the Doctor said, sticking her hands in her coat pockets. “I am sorry for that. I do lose track of time sometimes. But I did visit! You said to ‘come back soon’.”

“You were the old man.”

“Yep.”

“And the sharp man.”

“Yep, although I don’t why you call me that.”

“And the bowtie man.”

“I don’t regret the bowtie.” The Doctor pulled at her suspenders, still smiling widely. “Speaking of time…”

The Doctor stepped to the side, gesturing out the big window – there was an old blue police box parked there, standing underneath the shade of a big tree. It was the same box you’d seen, all those nights ago - “You’ve let me into your home so many times, I suppose it’s time I show you mine.”

“That box? You’re kidding.”

The Doctor shrugged, then tilted her head towards the box. “Do you want to see where I’ve been?”

And all those times you’d stayed behind, all the nights of thinking like you had missed out on something grand, something greater than you – all came flooding back. As the Doctor looked at you with wide, expectant eyes, you thought of adventure and finally living the lives you kept hearing about – and you nodded. You weren’t going to miss this chance.

The Doctor beamed, and took your hand. You clambered over the counter, ignoring all the stares from the customers – “Now?”

“When’s a better time than now?” she called back, dragging you out of the café and into another world.

And all this over a jar of sugar.

[venomous--fics]

Anon requested: Can I please request Eddie Brock/Venom helping their s/o who has a tendency to overwork themselves? Like they work super hard at work, go above and beyond at school, but end up so tired and exhausted and anxious bc they should be doing more? Thank you!!!!

You groaned as you kicked the apartment door shut with your foot, nearly losing the papers you were comically holding in your mouth and arms. You carefully set everything on the table and began setting it into the appropriate stacks so you could continue working. It wasn't unusual for you to bring work home, but for the last couple of weeks, you've brought home nearly triple than what you were supposed to.

At first, Eddie didn't see it as an issue because you still got the right amount of sleep, you ate, showered, basically, you functioned like a normal human. But lately, he's gotten kinda worried because he's noticed how your anxiety has been making you go into overdrive. Sure, you liked going a bit overboard to show off, but now it just seemed like it was a real problem. 

Eddie had gotten home an hour after you did, and as he would've guessed... You were slouched at the table. Pen in your mouth, paper in your left hand, right hand holding your head up as your eyes fought to stay open long enough to even hit the space bar on your laptop. Maybe it was just a long day, he thought, but he saw that the plate of dinner you'd made for yourself was still in the microwave. It wasn't even warmed up.

He sighed as he took his jacket off and shushed Venom, who was confused as to why you were behaving this way. Outside of Eddie's anxiety, he didn't know how it affected different people. He didn't want to say it, but it worried him. Humans were stupidly complicated.

Eddie sat to your right and neatly set his folded hands on the table, "Hey. How was work?"

It took a minute for your fried brain to register that he was even there. Your glazed over eyes trailed over to him, "What?"

Eddie smiled a little and quietly shut your laptop, "Babe, I- Well, we think you need a break."

"But I-"

Eddie got up from the table and walked over to the fridge, "No if, ands, or buts."

You looked at the mess of papers, feeling so irrationally uneasy about taking a break. Your brain wouldn't stop telling you to just ignore him and keep working. If you don't do it now, it'll never get done. You'll probably lose your job if you don't finish all of this work right this very second. 

"So, I'm no cook-"

"You really aren't."

"As I was saying-"

"You burn water, Eddie. I didn't think that was physically possible....But I guess it is for you."

"As..I was-"

"You always burn my tater tots too. It's not hard to follow instructions, Eddie."

Eddie sighed as he set the box of pasta noodle on the counter, "Why don't we ask Y/n to help with dinner then?"

"At least they don't burn water."

They paused for a moment. Normally you were ready to step in and make dinner, or tell them to bicker somewhere else, to which they'd just step to the other side of the table. But there was nothing. They turned their attention to you, and surprise surprise, you were working again.

"Don't you want to help with dinner?" Eddie asked a bit sheepishly, "You know I really suck at this.."

"Mmhmm." you hummed, "In a minute."

"Babe-"

"I said in a moment," you repeated.

Eddie walked back to the table and shut your laptop, and again, like earlier, it took your brain a moment or two to process what was happening.

Your hands slumped into your lap and you rested against the back of the old chair, staring blankly ahead. Eddie wasn't sure if you were giving him attitude or if you were just so tired that you didn't want to talk, but he just didn't like seeing you like this.

"Can you please take a break?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I have to get it done."

"Right now?" Eddie flipped through some of the papers and noticed that some of the dates were for next week, "Babe, you're gonna work yourself to death.."

You clenched your fists and pinched your eyes shut, "I have to get them done so that way I don't have to worry about them anymore."

"I was okay with you bringing, yknow, a normal amount of work home but this is a bit much, isn't it?" Eddie looked back to you, and that’s when he finally noticed the dark circles under your eyes. He sighed, not in disappointment or anything, just out of guilt that he didn't stop you sooner, "Listen to me."

He sat back in his original position, to your right, "Well, I mean, more like trust me.. This shit sucks, like alot, but worrying about it all the time isn't going to make it better."

"But, if-"

"Finishing it early won't really make a difference either." Eddie immediately realized how harsh that sounded, "What I mean is that, by the time you even get to the stuff for next week- It's gonna be next week..."

You sighed, caving in a little, "I guess I got a little.. Overzealous. I just.. I really need to stay on top of it all-"

Your sentence broke off into intangible rambling and you got so worked up about it all that you started crying, and then you started crying more because you were crying for a silly reason.

Eddie quickly pulled into a hug and rubbed your back, "It's okay, I promise. Just take a deep breath."

You listened to Eddie and took a few deep breaths, and when you calmed down enough, you noticed that your arm felt a bit warmer. You looked and saw Venom coiled around your arm, like a slick little worm, and his small blob head rested on your shoulder, and for the first time in a while, he looked sad or upset.

"Sorry," you said quietly.

Two little white eyes looked up at you, almost innocently, and not like he had eaten a mugger two hours prior to coming home, "It's not your fault."

Eddie, wanting nothing more than you help you feel better, helped you stand up, "How about this..?"

You looked up at him, wiping your face a little, but Eddie moved your hands and cupped your face, "What if Venom and I attempt to make dinner while you take a shower and get into something comfier?"

That did sound nice, you hadn't noticed how stiff your clothes felt.

"And we can watch whatever you want, or eat in bed, I don't care."

You paused for a moment, and Eddie knew you were thinking about working still. With your face still in his hands he gently tilted your chin up and gave you a soft kiss on the lips, "Won't take no for an answer, love."

"What if I want to eat in the shower?"

"Sounds terrible," Venom chimed, still latched to your arm.

You chuckled, and you saw how Eddie and Venom both lit up at the sound. You stifled another chuckle as you playfully ran a finger under Venom's chin as he uncoiled himself from your arm, "Okay, okay, I'll shower."

"Thank you." Eddie said, stepping back to the stove.

You were about to head to your bedroom for clothes when you looked back at the table. Eddie could feel you staring, "I promise we will help you work tomorrow, or the day after, but-"

"It's alright, I was just.." You cleared your throat, "Thinking about clearing off the table."

"And I'm the president," Eddie quipped, setting the pot of water on the burner.

"No you're not."

"It's an expression."

"I'm not happy about it."

"No, not that kind of-...That's an emotion."

"I feel nothing."

You laughing as you gathered some clothes and went into the bathroom, "It seems like V is quiet the comedian."

"Don't encourage him."

You started the shower and the moment the warm steam started filling up the room, you felt ten times better. Maybe you should really just take a step back for a bit. Take it easy, as all your friends would say.. Of course, you were stubborn so there's no telling if you would actually listen, but, it was worth a shot. Also, why do warm things have to be so relaxing? You were almost dozing off in the shower. It was nice, you had to admit, but, not exactly a good place to just fall asleep in.

You couldn't help but think about all the work you should be doing, but you tried to shut it all off by imagining the mess you'd have to help clean up after pasta night. It was a bit amazing how big of a mess one, arguably small, alien could make with a single noodle.

Maybe there was other things to worry about. Not that you should worry, but habits die hard. Either way, worried or not, you finished up in the bathroom and got into the comfiest clothes you'd worn in a while. And upon leaving the bathroom, you could hear Eddie and Venom bickering in the kitchen about how to cook the sauce. 

"Just read the can." you said, smiling as you stepped into view.

"That's easy for you to say," Venom said, "I can't read English."

"That explains alot," you replied.

"It's difficult. Eddie is no better."

"I love you guys."

"We love you too."

Eddie awkwardly held out a sauce covered spatula, "Could you.. Help me? I'm a bit worried I'll burn the sauce."

You took the spatula, "Just gotta make sure it doesn't get too hot."

"Oh."

"That's what I said," Venom spat.

You snickered a bit more as you helped your boys out in the kitchen. Dinner went smoother than expected and all three of you wound up crashing on the couch, wrapped up in a huge blanket Eddie had bought over the holidays because, 'It was on sale.' For your information, it had puppies and hearts on it, so Eddie bought it for those two things alone. Price was an after thought. It's always an after thought with Eddie.

[spiralingsights]

The whole sleepy selfship list for you and tonori and i have absolutely spelled that wrong but you know who i mean

tonori wjehbfebfwejw i’m losing it

under the cut because.... the whole list.....

1. Who falls asleep first?

well, since it’s such a fucking hassle for either of us to fall asleep, it’s usually Toshinori. and i say that because we both desperately try to fall asleep at the same time, but since my brain is stupid and full of ADHD, he’s usually the first to be successful.

2. What’s your partner’s nightly routine (from skincare to listening to you talk, etc)?

he doesn’t really have one? he just makes himself a cup of Sleep Help Tea™ and then watches me play stupid games on my phone until he falls asleep. sometimes i ramble, sometimes i don’t. there’s usually music on in the background, or thunderstorm white noise

3. Who snores louder?

god, Toshi 100%. i don’t snore at all. the most you’ll get from me is choking. Toshinori though? he snores like a man twice his fucking size. that is part of why we have background noise when we sleep.

4. Who is easier to wake?

[ answered ]

5. What’s your go to way of waking them up in the morning?

Toshi’s actually very easy to wake up, so i usually either shake him a little bit or i give him a kiss on the forehead. either one works and since he’s not the spooked horse that i am he doesn’t flail when i do it.

6. What’s their go to way to wake you?

[ answered ]

7. Who’s more likely to get cold in the middle of the night?

me lmao. i’m cold 24/7 and even though mr number one hero is a walking furnace, there are still times i accidentally manage to escape his heat.

9. Their favorite midnight snack (if they have one)?

grapes, but specifically black grapes. i don’t know why?? he’s never explained this to me???? but he really likes black grapes at midnight.

10. Would they rather be held all night or hold you?

[ answered ]

11. Who moves more in the middle of the night?

me :) which is part of why he keeps that iron grip on me when we sleep. i’m such a fucking fidgeter, it’s impossible for me to just lay still.

12. Are they an early riser or late sleeper?

he’s actually an early riser, which makes sense because he teaches superpowered high schoolers and he’s literally the number one fucking hero. he’s up at 5 or 6 am every morning and it’s infuriating. luckily, i am always too exhausted to be annoyed.

13. When they first wake up are they grumpy or cheerful?

neither? he’s just tired. Toshi isn’t really a grumpy man, and he only gets cheerful when he’s actually awake, which is cool with me because i think i would kill him if he was overly cheerful at six in the fucking morning.

14. Do they drink coffee, tea, or O.J (if coffee or tea what do they take it with)?

he prefers tea in the morning (he’s told me that he thinks coffee is too bitter). he doesn’t really... add anything to it. he can’t have sugar or lactose so he just takes it as is. i don’t think he liked adding anything to it anyway.

15. What’s their favorite breakfast food (sweet or savory)?

savory because again, he can’t have sugar. sucks for him because i need the serotonin that comes from sugar. at this point, we just make each other’s wildly different breakfasts together for bonding time.

16. Who’s more likely to make breakfast in bed for who?

we’re actually equally likely to do it for each other. i do it because Toshi deserves a break from caring for other people, and Toshi does it because i still very much have relationship anxiety and that’s how he reassures me.

17. How long does it take for them to be fully awake?

exactly 8 minutes. that’s how long it takes for him to make himself tea (and coffee for me), start breakfast, and get dressed. he’s very efficient.

18. Who has a longer morning routine?

i do, but mostly because a big chunk of it is trying to wake up and the rest is staring into my coffee and wondering how worth it work is.

19. What do their Pj’s look like?

because he’s fucking ridiculous

20. Who’s more likely to sleep with a plushie, and what kind?

me bitch! i have a little All Might plushie that Hizashi (Present Mic) got for me as a joke but the jokes on him because i fucking love that thing (it’s especially useful for when Toshi can’t come home for a while bc it smells like him)

[fatedfuturist]

things about my interpretation of tony stark. updated june 07, 2020.

here’s my exhaustive explanation for how i am not canon-compliant with the events and characterization of the mcu.

the reason for this is… well, there are several reasons, but i don’t want to stir shit up or just, in general, stomp on anyone else’s love for the mcu. and don’t get me wrong— i do love the mcu! but there are parts i’m critical of for personal reason, as we all have opinions on certain things. bc, yeah, you can love something, or someone, and still be logically critical about it or them.

anyway, here’s where my interpretation differs…

as per stated on my rules: i take inspiration for tony from multiple sources, including the mcu, marvel comics, the television show: avengers assemble, and my own personal headcanons. TONY IS ALSO ASIAN (SPECIFICALLY CHINESE) AMERICAN!!

i will admit that saying this isn’t particularly helpful if people don’t know, specifically, where i differ in terms of my interpretation of our dumbass genius. some of this info is scattered about on my blog, but here, it’s all consolidated into one post.

chen kun is my face claim, and i do use stuff from tony’s story from the mcu as a base. however, there are events and moments from the movies, that i selectively ignore due to personal preference; and then i build on top of my foundation with ideas, themes, and/or events from other sources such as the aforementioned sources listed above.

throwing this all under a read more because, like i said: exhaustive list. very. very. very fucking long. i’m serious– read at your own risk.

howard stark was an extremely abusive and absent father for all of tony’s childhood; tony did actively seek attention and approval from howard because he was rather aware of how famous he was and wanted the acceptance and validation from his dad; there wasn’t much shown in the mcu regarding his relationship with his father, but my inspiration for his father-son relationship comes from the comics;

an example of his verbal abuse: “you don’t want to be a sissy, now do you? stark men are made of iron!” (Iron Man, 1968);

an example of early exposure to alcohol: at age five, howard forced a drink into tony’s hand (which he did drink), stating that it would teach him “to be a man,” and that it’d “put hair on your chest” (Iron Man, 1968);

yes, this means that tony ‘forgiving’ howard in endgame is completely chucked out the window;

tony loses his parents the night of december 16, 1996 (not 12/16/1991), at the age of seventeen;

jarvis, the family butler, was more of a father to tony than howard ever was, and yes, this is why he names his first fully-functioning AI system jarvis;

tony was close with his mother, maria; she was his safehouse, and she taught him to be gentle and loving, and she also taught him the piano, which tony still periodically practices during his own time in private. in an avengers assemble episode, there is a piano in the tower that tony protects twice, which i reckon is because it has connections to his past with maria;

tony ain’t an old grandpa. i don’t see him being older than, like, 35–40 in the present time for my writing (chen kun is 44). this comes from comic and avengers assemble inspiration, which has been fairly ambiguous since they never mention his age. for plotting purposes in the mcu though, yes, he can be like 42–52 if needed.

tony is, by default, single unless otherwise stated. the reason for this is simply because i’m not big on tony / pepper in the mcu, and it’s not because i don’t like pepper (i love her as a character as an individual), but i just saw that the way they were written (so, this, yes, blames the mcu writers) was completely trash; they sort of redeemed it in endgame, but... in general, they had a lot of potential but then some writing choices pretty much ruined the ship for me;

this means that morgan does not exist unless otherwise specified and discussed, though i do enjoy the concert of tony being a dad to his own kid and breaking that cycle of howard’s shitty parenting;

i’m going to be as honest and transparent as i can: i do, for certain, love writing stevetony. they’re my primary ship. not simply in mcu dynamics, but from the comics and avengers assemble. however, like some can attest to, i will never force a ship on anyone. if you express no interest in them romantically? that’s fine. we can write them simply as good friends and comrades. i won’t stop writing or plotting with you if you don’t like them in a romantic dynamic. if you do like it that way? cool. i know it might be intimidating to discuss this given i look like complete trash for them, but i never choose who i will/will not write with based on whether we ship or not;

tony, publicly, hints toward being bisexual and biromantic a lot of the time as he’ll practically flirt with anyone at all times, but he never really openly admits it due to his oh-so ancient internalized homophobia (thank you for that one, howard and societal expectations of the time);

justin hammer is a long time rival in the industry, and often meddles with tony and his work all the time. it’s nothing new. the lack of foundation established in IM2 doesn’t provide much insight into their relationship. long story short (taken from avengers assemble): hammer is a punk bitch who’s jealous and tony is tired of him and will gladly beat his ass any day of the week whenever he drives a tank into his front door (which happens more often than not).

tony is fantastic with children. he loves getting to interact with children because he knows how excited they are to see him and/or iron man (seen in both the mcu and in the comics). this type of attention he’s okay about. if he can inspire children to do good things and be good people and be heroes in their own right, then he’s doing his job;

tony fosters the intelligence and dreams of bright individuals all the time by offering scholarships for high school graduates and post-secondary students, and also provides internship opportunities (equal opportunities regardless of race, sex, gender, religion, disability status, age, etc.)

we only see this occur with peter and harley in the mcu, but there are other kids— like riri williams! tony sees these kids for the bright minds that they have and he wants to help them and keep them safe as he knows these are the brains of the future.

let me run over iron man 3. like i said, i ignore some shit from the movies. tony doesn’t initiate the clean slate protocol, he doesn’t throw the arc reactor into the ocean, and he doesn’t remove the arc reactor from his chest. he will get surgery to get the shrapnel removed because if i were the follow the pain that comes with the comics, tony would literally be always on the verge of death at all times, requiring a chest plate to be recharged constantly to make sure the shrapnel doesn’t get closer– see? that’s a lot and i’m... lazy.

the reason for those choices are simple: clean slate protocol undoes his character progression;

the arc reactor is just a part of him as a person, stands as his heart;

avengers movie nights, (video/board) game nights, and training days exist and you will never be able to pry that out of my hands. tony always shows up fashionably late with coffee and pays for when shit gets broken by thor. team building exercises exist plenty within avengers assemble, including the fact that they share chores and decides who gets to do the next load of laundry from whoever chooses the short stick from the bunch.

tony has had anxiety and depression since he was a child. it just didn’t really flare up and get identified as a real, tangible mess of emotions and thoughts until he’d been kidnapped (and nearly died, at that). it got worse when he failed to address it until after IM3. into the present-day, tony deals with anxiety, depression, and PTSD all the time, but has improved (…sort of) when it comes to handling all of it, and certainly has grown to recognize similar symptoms in the people he cares about;

on another hand, tony has displayed symptoms of ADHD, but it’s not officially diagnosed, and some of these symptoms include, but are not limited to: hyperactivity (staying awake for days on end) and hyperfocus (hyper-focus on work), distractible (easily distracted when he’s not focused on something), rambling (talks a lot and often makes rather intuitive connections due to how busy his brain functions), impulsivity and recklessness (self explanatory), constant need to move around and/or do something (in meetings, he will be moving somehow, whether it’s tapping fingers or feet, or shifting around in his seat);

there are days where he feels inferior due to how human he knows he is (in comparison to most of his team), and other days, he feels as though he’s more machine than he is man. these feelings fluctuate depending on how he’s doing with his mental health, and/or if he hears and/or sees anything about him that points toward either idea;

there is always overwhelming guilt for those he can’t keep safe or people that die; tony doesn’t like to kill anybody (unless it’s robots, because… they’re robots, not human lives); though, if pushed far enough with no other choice, he will throw conventional morality out the window for the sake of protecting all that he believes to be for the good of the world;

tony isn’t jacked. he isn’t captain america fit, but he isn’t particularly thin, either. his body is sort of like a runner’s build (for visuals, refer to valerio schiti’s comic art of tony). i interpret tony’s body as a slight bit slimmer. he exercises, and being in the suit also is its own form of exercise. god forbid we discuss his eating habits, though. and–– he also isn’t short short, but he isn’t tall, either. he sits at 5’10”, which might be a little below the average male, but that’s about it.

speaking of eating habits, simply put: tony can’t cook for shit and that’s it. he’ll try to cook for his significant others’ on the occasion, but he can’t be blamed if he burns everything.

tony isn’t ‘woke’ or perfect, as it’s imperative to remember he grew up as rich and with financial and some social class privilege (since he was rich), despite the abuse and harassment he experienced during his youth. it’s taken him time to recognize this, and he realizes it really doesn’t cost anything to be a better person, which is why he tries to be better when it comes to his tone of voice when discussing certain topics he has no authority to be speaking of, and by taking action with simple manual labour when it comes to chores (so he doesn’t hire other people to do shit for him). he also knows he can’t be a man of ‘all bark and no bite’ when it comes to supporting people and causes, hence why he actively advocates for female and youth empowerment through both words and actions.

in regards to ca:cw events, i would prefer to ignore them. for specific-plotting purposes, this can be dropped, but i prefer the events of avengers assemble when it comes to ‘civil war’. it’s actually really simple:

tony was not honest about his intentions with the team regarding a robot that was initially made for him by howard, which ended up with an ultron reboot that nearly risked loads of civilian lives and the team’s lives;

steve confronted tony about it when they returned back to avengers tower. with tony’s insistence that everything was now fine, steve decided to resign due to tony’s dishonesty and lack of trust in the team;

this splits the team in half, where steve takes— well, they decided to leave since they didn't like tony's lack of honesty— natasha, the hulk, and the falcon to work under SHIELD as the ‘secret avengers,’ and tony, clint, and thor remain as leftover avengers (later with the addition of ant-man and temporarily, spider-man, in some missions);

in the end, they all join back together after learning to appreciate their differences and reconciling under the fact that there wouldn’t be any more secrets that could risk the world, and the team’s safety;

if i am to follow the events of the mcu— between ca:cw and infinity war, he develops nanotech for his armour, which is embedded into his very skin to accommodate for nanobots, which interacts via neural transmissions (visuals here);

tony recognizes that he lost his temper and let his emotions get to him in the moment, which fucked up shit that could’ve been talked through and fixed;

tony is an alcoholic. he recognizes that he always will be, though he’s always working toward sobriety. he certainly relapses every so often when things are rough and he feels as if he has no other options, but he’s aware that relapsing is part of the process of recovery. he has attended AA meetings (alcoholics anonymous), and has been AA sponsors for people in the past;

to skim through the events of infinity war and endgame should these be part of the things you’re curious about (this is getting really long and i’m sure you’re tired of reading this—how have you gotten this far?):

after returning from space, tony took a few months (~ five) to recover from those three months of malnutrition, dehydration, and the wound of thanos’ stab. tony sealed the front of his injury, but he sure as hell wasn’t seen dealing with the back end. during this time, he’s able to regain some muscle mass;

he lives on his own, retreating to the cabin to escape from the responsibilities of being a fallen hero who ultimately failed the people he was supposed to protect.

during the five year gap, he keeps in contact with the other avengers, but very rarely. they’re the only ones who know where he lives;

like i said— tony does not say any of that forgiving bullcrap to howard. victims of abuse don’t have to forgive their abuser, parent or not. let’s just imagine the entire interaction didn’t happen at all;

tony doesn’t die;

he used the infinity stones; but, to maintain consistency with what the mcu established w/ thanos: he sustained significant damage to his right arm, up to the shoulder and neck. it’s gravely scarred. the overall function of that arm also diminished greatly. vision out of his right eye is not as sharp as it once was, either;

a year of recovery and physiotherapy later, tony decides to amputate and go for a prosthetic. he works with shuri and wakandan tech to build an arm;

despite the end of the looming, world-ending thread, tony still battles resurfacing trauma. not every day is happy, but he is working toward recovery. there are days he doesn’t remember chunks of what happened due to the power of the infinity stones; sometimes, he doesn’t even want to remember it, anyway;

tony retires. sort of. for the most part. if the world really needs iron man, he’ll be there;

tony may have handed CEO-ship to pepper, but he still handles a lot of work for stark industries, and that’s what he primarily does post-endgame.

the multiverse and realm-traveling happens a-fucking-lot 

[dolphin-enthusiast]

buonasera my sugarplum! 🌺🌟💗 i hope you are well darling! it's lovely to be back this evening!! after all, the perfect end to my nights always seem to be writing you while i lounge with my cats,, sometimes sipping on something nice,, tonight i actually have some limoncello with me hehe, only a small amount of course! after all, i don't wanna end up accidentally getting tipsy again~ 😖 (though to be fair, it was my older brother's fault last time hehehe) (1/7)

"i'm so happy to hear that you have the same taste in AA characters as i do!! (even if i haven't gotten that far yet) i was doing some more looking around to pull me farther down the rabbit hole,, and i think i'm gonna start watching the anime by the end of the week! ahhh, i really can't wait to watch it, along with more of our show ✨😉 (2/7)

today was long, as i spent most of it helping out in the neighbor's garden,, but it was fun!! i had to water and check the progress of different crops, and harvest anything that was ready! i also had to check on the bunnies of course,, i went alone this time so it took a lot of strength to get the big food bag out 😅 (3/7)

i got to pick lots of vegetables to feed them too!! one of the bunnies, who i named torrone, ate a carrot right out of my hand,, and at one point, all of them came to sit with me~!! two even layed in my lap,, i was overjoyed! my mom couldn't believe it when i told her hehehe 🐰 (4/7)

ooh, and i was sitting outside with some tea for a few hours today, when i saw a baby frog hop over to me! he hopped onto my leg, and i carefully picked him up in a napkin to be safe,, he was so cute!! the little thing was barely the size of my fingertip, but he was very curious and ended up sitting with me for two whole hours! i named him mojito since he was a bright green, hopefully i'll see him again! (5/7)

the rest of my day was spent cooking dinner, trying to avoid random flirts online, and going shopping for liquors and liqueurs,, mamma likes to bring me with her to pick out new things (but mostly to advise her on what wines she should buy hehe) my parents both seemed exhausted by the evening, so i used it as an excuse to fix up some amaretto sours with some leftover mixers... they must've liked it enough to allow me a glass of whatever i wanted 😖❤ (6/7)

awaaaa,, all of this rambling tires me out,, but i'm really happy that you all don't mind it as much as others do,, oh my, they always tell me that i need to shut up ahaha 😂 oh goodness, it's quite late now though, so i think that's all for tonight! so goodnight cuore mio, sweet dreams!! i hope you wake up smiling in the morning 💞💞💞 - hugs from the other half of the planet, your waifu 💌✨💖💕💋🌹 ps: let's add me fixing up drinks for you to the bucket list of things to do 😘💓 (7/7)"

U have no idea (once again) how thrilled i am that u got into aa and d e a d a s s everyone loves edgeworth and franziska so really big brain taste👁️ but my advice would be to not watch the anime till u finish the og trilogy (a.k.a the first 3 games) since it basically spoils everything xhdhshs but tbh the anime isnt amazing and has lots of bruh moments animation wise yet i still love it lmao esp of the voice acting....both the dub and sub slap royally (edgeworth's dub voice doe😳😤) AND OUR S E C R E T SHOW MAN AM I EQUALLY AS THRILLED FOR U TO DISCOVER MORE OF THAT TOO

N E W A Y S i have to say im fully convinced that ur some sort of earth/nature/growth/nurture goddess in disguise bc animals flopping to u further proves it ksksks never in my life was i able to like hold onto a frog for hours u have magical powers dear😳😳😳😳 u could prob command and entire army of bunnies, frogs, cats and many more if u so desired-

Also whoever told u to shut up will get the stabby cuz i aint havin none of that bs 🗿🔪 this also applies to the random flirts trynna start bs (btw i totally forgot to answer one of quinn's asks that said there was another one on instagram? Coming @ u so im gonna address it here: WII GATHERIN THE CLOWN ARMY ONCE AGAIN SISTERS👀🔪👀🔪👀🔪)

On another note, i'd totally try out ur drinks bc cocktails are a big passion of mine (then again who doesnt love em) and even more so if ur the one who made them a h a

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

↬ paying the price

date: september 20, 2018

location: reebok classic cf filming

word count: 1,656 words.

summary: part five. (part one, part two, part three, part four)

notes: diet mention tw, being an emotional lil bitch who can’t survive late stage capitalism amirite ladies tw.

despite the sun only now rising, it’s overcast as ash steps out of the van. he barely notices it other than to think that he hopes it rains. rain has always been his favorite weather.

rain, after all, offers the perfect conditions to stop and think, not that that’s something he ever has time to do anymore, rain or shine.

he forgets about his yearning for rain as quickly as he forgets most things nowadays, and by the time he’s sitting in the chair and getting concealer dabbed under his eyes, his mind is elsewhere.

“didn’t get much sleep last night?” his makeup artist asks.

“no. no, not really,” is his simple reply before silence falls between them again.

it’s true, but it barely crosses his mind how tired he is. knight hasn’t had that many schedules since they got back from germany, but he’s spent hours upon hours scrawling out lyrics and remaking beats until his head pounds. it’s a hopeless grasp at the freedom that has already slipped through his fingers, slithering away so effortlessly at bc’s command. he's pestered producers to give him feedback and rewritten lyrics until he cried from pure emotional and physical exhaustion, but it still isn’t enough. he’d spent his nescafe fansign event more focused on rhymes and rhythms than those who had come to see him and hadn’t even given himself time to feel guilty afterward.

his mind has one laser focus now and it cost him the opportunity to even look over the filming concept before he arrived at the shoot.

as he gets passed on to someone else to throw clothes at him to tug on for approval, his mind is once again distracted, trying desperately to find a lyric he’s been struggling with since last night and mentally choosing the right chord to go with it, deciding whether snaps or hi-hats would be more suitable in the production, or whether they’d each sound too cliche altogether to ever impress the people that mattered.

he comes out from behind his changing partition and the set stylist nods approvingly. it all feels like deja vu from his first day of cf filming for his the reebok deal a week or so ago. he has to take a minute to shake off the eerie feeling of sameness as he lets her come over to adjust the hat on his head before deciding the outfit looks better without it, readjusting the way the dark sweater lay on his shoulders just so. he feels like a mannequin again; not all there, but it’s fine because he doesn’t have to be to get the job done. this isn’t like nescafe where he has to plaster on the charm for the camera. he’s sure he can get by by simply being there.

he’s told to wait and stretch until they’re ready to shoot today’s only scene. he goes through the motions of stretching without putting any thought into it. there’s no burn or pull in his muscles to signify he’s doing anything productive, but in his head, he’s going over chord structures and debating whether putting a certain song in minor will be too melodramatic.

“we’re ready to shoot!” he hears called out across the sets and he snaps out of his reverie to stand up from his weak attempt at a stretch. someone quickly rushes over to smooth out the fit of his clothing again. the director rambles on about how they’ll get the dancing shots first, then some set-up running shots, before filming the “killing part” with the chair and ash nods in understanding though his mind is foggy with fatigue.

action.

some music plays that he knows will be edited out so they don’t have to pay for the rights. he breaks into the small dance routine he’s already rehearsed, luckily getting away with marking the moves instead of going full out due to the rehearsal-like concept of the commercial.

cut.

“do it again, with more focus, like you’re practicing for a concert.”

“okay.”

action.

he does it once more, twice more, thrice more, until the director is either satisfied or tired of telling him to look more present.

cut.

“you look like you want to be somewhere else,” the director had said somewhere between the third and fourth take and ash had apologized instead of telling him he’s only seeing the truth.

action.

this time, it’s short shots of him sprinting to set up for the next shot, and it luckily goes more smoothly. there’s only so much presence one can muster up running that ash doesn’t get hassled for it too much before the word rings out again for a final time for this series of shots.

cut.

an assistant calls a short break to reset the scene and arrange new aspects of the shot, and ash immediately makes his way back to the bag he’d brought with him, pulling out his phone to make a voice memo of a new idea he has.

his recording is interrupted by the sliding notification banner of a text from one of knight’s managers.

talked to the nutritionist. they’ve got a new diet plan for you and we’ll be fitting in more time with your trainer. said something about mesh shirts and possible shirtless shots for the mv for the next solo album. come see me when you get back to the dorm.

it’s hardly the sort of text ash should be on the verge of crying over, but he feels the telltale tightness in his chest as his sleep-deprived body tries to expel his frustration in whatever way he can. it has nothing to do with the new diet or the implied objectification and everything to do with... whatever the fuck he’s trying to do. he doesn’t really know what his goal is now, so it can’t be over that.

he doesn’t cry, because that would require a make-up touch-up, and there’s nothing less appealing than a pop star crying on the set of a brand deal that’s making him and his group the kind of money rookies, and even a fair number of his seniors, only dreamed of all because he’s not having his spoiled artistic expression coddled by a multi-million dollar company.

so he gets back on set and tries to snap himself out of it. it works, sort of. he’s only a little less there than he was before.

action.

run, jump off, land on the seat with his left foot, land on the top of the back with his right foot, tip it over far enough for the perfect shot and jump off. it’s easy, hardly anything challenging in comparison to the choreography he does every day. he quickly catches on that he can channel his frustration into the force of the push that tips over the chair. each time, he makes it stronger, and the crew seems impressed. the strain is causing his ankle to act up again, but he can ice it in the van once the shoot is over.

he gets six decent shots in before the director tells him to rein it in; he’s going a little too hard now.

“got it.”

“take lucky number seven,” the director encourages with brightness like the most fake neon plastic.

ash forces a friendly laugh.

this take feels the same as all the others. ash isn’t an expert on what looks good on camera but he tries, pushing his running approach a little faster and slowing his leap up to perch on the chair. his foot lands with more of his heel off of the chair than the previous takes, but a burst of extra force through his calf gets his other foot onto the top rail. that’s when it falls apart. again.

his foot lands too far ahead on the ball or too far back on the heel, he’s not sure in the split second it happens, but the gruesome twists fires a warning signal to his brain in the fraction of a second that he doesn’t have time to act on before it gets worse.

in his haze of lost breath and the consequences of the rapid-firing of his brain ultimately resulting in nothing, he forgets to jump off and the ball of his foot collides with the smooth concrete at an even worse angle. a harsher blow strikes his already weakened ankle and he doesn’t have time to try to stand up before he crumbles to the ground in a rushed moment that feels much more dramatic than it could possibly look seeing as no one does anything for a few seconds.

with a muted cry of shock, ash rolls onto his side and tries to grasp at his ankle before finding that’s a very bad idea and he’s caught between letting it fall to the floor in what he’s aware enough to know would be another shock of pain or holding it an inch above the ground as he loses the will and strength to do so.

it’s either a second or an hour before he stops screwing his eyes shut as a distraction and sees his manager’s shoes pound across the set, accompanied by a chorus of “are you okay?”s.

briefly, he’s brought back to a day playing soccer in elementary school when he’d taken a ball to the knee. it was the same feeling of praying for the pain to pass so everyone would stop looking at him and stop worrying over him and please stop burdening him with his own mistake as if he hadn’t made enough already.

god or mother nature or the great spaghetti monster in the sky had never been much of a friend to ash, though, regardless of his prayers, and the pain doesn’t fade even half an hour later when he finds himself at the same hospital he thought he’d said goodbye to a month ago, this time with less positive news.

[kaiunkaiku]

Would you fucking look at that, it’s an actual fic! I have been working on this for so ridiculously long and I’m so happy I finally managed to finish it! Hope you like some Hunter x Hunter because that’s literally one of my favorite series ever.

Warnings include my dialogue writing bc we have already concluded that I absolutely suck at that, illness, more hurt than comfort for the most part, disgustingly tooth-rotting last few paragraphs and some shipping because I’m literal trash.

This is set a few years into the future from canon so they are not twelve years old anymore. Let’s say late teens.

Killua stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He can’t believe this, just can't, this isn't supposed to happen. He’s a trained assassin, immune to most poisons in the world and able to withstand most of the torture methods known to man. He can work with broken bones and pierced limbs, hell, he can do his job with his arm hanging from his shoulder by little more than a strip of skin (very unpleasant and painful, yes, but he can complete a job). He hasn't been sick since he was two years old.

Now, though, there's a flush on his pale cheeks, and this isn't the type he has when Gon tells him he’s cute or that he wants to introduce him to Ging. This is the kind that has his head swimming full of cotton and eyelids drooping. His stomach is in knots and it’s three in the morning and Gon is sleeping behind the wall to his right in the large double bed. His throat feels funny and his neck feels like he’s been sleeping in a wrong position for hours and hours straight, unmoving, but he hasn't, he hasn't slept all night and it honestly scares him. He’s not used to this, and this is not exciting unfamiliar like the hunter exam was, no, this is his own weapon of a body doing something it isn’t supposed to do and he’s terrified. He’s considered waking Gon up, too, but it’s better if even one of them gets a decent amount of sleep.

The only reason he’s not completely panicking is because he’s seen this - sick people - before. He doesn’t remember any of his family members ever being ill, but he can easily enough recall Leorio standing by Kurapika’s bedside after the whole Phantom Troupe thing in Yorknew City. He remembers the shadows under brown eyes, sheen of sweat on pale skin and Leorio carefully setting a damp cloth onto his forehead.

Killua is exhausted. He stares at his reflection in the mirror and it stares back, eyes glassy and the lack of color on his face matching his hair even better than usually. Under his eyes there are dark circles that blend into the flush on his cheeks.

He looks so much less miserable than he feels.

It takes him a second to realize that his vision is starting to distort. It takes him another second to react, and by then it’s too late - his knees buckle under him and black spots cloud his eyes. The barely-there effort he puts into remaining upright doesn't pay off and he crashes onto the floor, unable to control his fall like he’s used to. His head hits something and the black spots get stars to keep them company for a moment. There's pain, nothing he can't handle but pain regardless, and then footsteps hurrying to the bathroom. Gon’s bare feet against the tiled floor sound louder than they probably are and there’s a weird echo to his voice as he shouts Killua’s name. Warm hands - always warm, Gon is always warm - lift him from his sprawled position on the floor so that his head in resting in Gon’s lap.

Gon’s voice is rambling are-you-okays and what-happeneds and why-didn’t-you-tell-mes at a rapid pace, barely giving Killua enough time to process the questions. The second he manages to make out what he was asked Gon is already going with the next, and Killua’s head feels lead-heavy and feather-light at the same time and he doesn’t want to do this. He squeezes his eyes shut against the bright lights of the bathroom.

Killua feels a hand on his forehead and realizes that the rambling has stopped. He forces his eyes open and finds himself staring right at Gon’s. His hair is a mess and there’s an awfully worried look in his eyes. For a second Killua thinks Gon looks surprisingly alert, but he shakes the thought almost immediately - it would be ridiculous for either of them look sleepy three seconds after a surprise wake-up call.

“Killua, you have a fever,” Gon tells him, as if he hadn’t already come to that conclusion. “Why didn’t you wake me up? How long have you been sick?” There’s a demanding tone to his voice, the kind there is when Gon needs to know instead of just wanting. A little more panicking and it would sound exactly like his demand for Kite’s whereabouts all that time ago.

Killua opens his mouth to answer but only air comes out. It quickly turns into awful, dry coughs, every breath triggering a few new ones and his chest burns. It takes Gon barely a second to turn him on his side, hand resting on his upper back. His throat and chest are both on fire and the whole thing feels to just go on and on and on until he can finally draw a decent breath again. Gon is rubbing his back behind his lungs.

“‘m not supposed to be sick,” Killua rasps, voice rough and barely audible. Gon tilts his head and blinks in confusion.

“What do you mean not supposed to? People get sick all the time, Killua!” Gon’s brows furrow like he’s trying to think about something. Killua props himself on his elbow to get even a little bit off the floor so he can look at Gon better.

“Gon, I haven’t been sick since I was a toddler. I’m immune to basically everything.” His arm is trembling under him, bad, like his legs were when he first recognized Illumi at the hunter exam. He hates it. He’s afraid. He wants it to stop, all of it, from the fuzzy feeling in his head to the pain in his neck and the sudden lack of physical control, he wants it all to just stop and go away. Taking a deep breath, Killua closes his eyes against the spinning world and lowers himself back to the floor. He doesn't crash-land, thank heavens.

And now Gon is scared, too, great fucking job, Killua, he thinks to himself as Gon’s suddenly tightened voice asks him if he got hurt in the fight they had yesterday against these three guys and a kid, a frigging child. Killua is so done with children on the battlefield. He’s been there himself and it sucks.

It takes Killua a second to come up with a reason for Gon to be asking that, because getting injured shouldn't have anything to do with his current condition, until he remembers the shocked look on one guy's face after he got his ankle pierced by some kind of a needle-weapon-thing. At the time he’d thought it could have been because of a mistake in the location of the hit, but now he's starting to realize; he didn't die immediately. The logical conclusion is that the needle was laced with some kind of a deadly poison, but somehow it’s still affecting him.

Lethargically, Killua lifts his leg so that Gon can take a look at his bandaged ankle. He’s tired and there’s a vague feeling of his insides burning and his muscles hurt like they used to when he was six and making his way up the Heavens Arena and it’s absolutely ridiculous how he’s remembering things like this right now.

Gon unwraps his foot gently like only he can, careful not to hurt him. It's clear he’s worried, but he keeps his hands steady as the bandages fall to the tiled floor.

Killua knows he cleaned the wound thoroughly. He's a professional and he knows how to take care of his physical health. Now, though, from what he can see, the area around it looks swollen and red. It doesn't hurt - in fact, he can barely feel the whole foot. Killua wonders when that happened, since he's pretty sure he could still feel it when he came to the bathroom earlier.

All the numbness disappears, however, the second Gon takes a poke at the tissue near the wound itself. His touch is painful, like freezing fire, burning ice, and Killua chokes back a scream. His body jerks and he instinctively tries to pull his foot back from Gon’s grip, away from the pain. A voice at the back of his skull is telling him that he's endured much, much worse in the hands of his family but it doesn't seem to matter. Gon’s hands are strong, thankfully, and used to holding flailing limbs in place thanks to his experience with injured animals. It's not something Killua likes to think of himself as, but it's not like his brain is allowing him to think of anything else, either.

Gon hushes him quietly, keen eyes still observing the obvious infection as his other hand reaches for Killua’s. He squeezes his fingers, offering reassurance, but it does very little to actually help. Killua tries to squeeze back, but even his fingers won’t move on command as they should. He’s cold, colder than he should and Gon is wearing just as little clothing as he is and it’s pretty clear Gon isn’t cold. Not fair, Killua thinks. His ankle hurts.

Gon looks at the injury from all sides, twisting Killua’s ankle as gently as he can, until he finally sets the foot down.

“Killua, let’s get you back to bed, yeah? I’m gonna go call Leorio real quick,” Gon tells as he gathers Killua up from the floor. Killua is trying his best to stand up, is trying his best to remain upright and even take a few steps, but he ends up being practically carried by Gon as his knees refuse to support him. He’s cold, but the blankets feel suffocating and he still feels overall a lot worse than he can remember ever feeling.

Every second seems to make him feel exponentially worse than before. He can hear blood rushing in his ears in a deafening volume and the churning of his insides is getting worse and he’s still getting colder, which probably means that his fever is still rising. Gon is on the phone with Leorio, his tone frantic and worried and his words incomprehensible through the noise in Killua’s head.

Before he knows it, there's a hand shaking his shoulder. He doesn't know when that happened, because he’s sure Gon was just talking on the phone. Large, brown eyes stare into blue, worried.

“Leorio said he’s coming over right now,” Gon tells, words spilling out of his mouth rapidly, almost like he’s afraid Killua will slip away before he manages to finish his sentence. And maybe his fear isn't irrational, at least not completely, because Killua can feel his consciousness fading in and out, and out seems to be winning.

“He’s just a few towns over,” Gon continues, trying to push some reassurance into his voice, “and he said Kurapika is driving, so they’ll be here in no time.” If the reassurance is for Killua or himself, that Gon isn't certain of. Maybe both, maybe neither, perhaps just the other. It is there, though, and that's what Killua clings to, the attempted shred of hope Gon seems to have in this thing ending up okay.

Gon climbs to the bed and gets behind Killua, pressing his face into soft whiteness as his arms wrap around Killua’s torso.

“You're shivering,” he whispers into Killua’s hair. He pulls Killua’s body closer, shivering back against strong chest, as Killua nods shakily.

“Cold,” he whispers. Killua lets his eyes flutter shut - his eyelids feel heavy, or maybe it's his lashes that are pulling them down. He feels like he's freezing, but Gon’s touch is like fire against his skin. He thinks he can hear his own breathing. He's not quite sure, though, since if anything, the blood rushing through his veins sounds even louder than before.

Gon’s hand moves to his forehead, and for a moment Killua can feel Gon’s arms tensing.

“Killua, you're burning up,” Gon tells. “Even worse than before.” He pulls Killua closer, like he’s trying to protect him from something, or someone.

Gon slides his hand into Killua’s hair before promptly getting up, almost jumping off the bed. The sudden absence of warmth makes Killua shiver, but mostly it just makes his head heavier than it already was, sends his vision into a spinning motion and throws him off balance even lying down. He grits his teeth to prevent them from clattering and curls up. He doesn’t have the energy to search for a blanket, even though he knows there are two of them in the bed. His fingers feel icy against his biceps.

He’s slipping again, he knows that, but keeping his eyes open and mind focused on something requires energy his brain isn’t willing to produce. Killua nearly misses the fact that Gon has appeared next to him again.

“We need to get your fever down, Killua,” Gon whispers, hand reaching for Killua’s hair. “So you’re gonna take a bath before Leorio and Kurapika get here, yeah?”

The following moments are, in Killua’s head, nothing but haze and coldness. There’s a series of events starting from somehow getting out of bed, then he's suddenly freezing even worse than before, ice cold water surrounding him even though it’s actually probably lukewarm, a soft towel, Gon yelling, familiar voices. Everything goes by fast, throws his thoughts into a whirlwind of confusion and exhaustion and general haze of not being able to distinguish what’s happening around him.

At some point, he finally passes out.

When he comes to, an indefinite amount of indefinite measures of time later, head throbbing and lungs fighting against breathing, there’s a pair of storm gray eyes observing him from behind a curtain of blond hair. Kurapika has a book in his hand and there are dark circles under his eyes, making Killua wonder if he’s been out for longer than a few hours. Or maybe it’s Leorio’s fault, who knows.

“Good to see you awake, Killua,” Kurapika smiles, setting his book down and standing up gracefully, as he usually does. “How are you feeling?”

Killua turns his eyes to the ceiling, taking a second to assess what his body is doing. He feels exhausted, at least that’s for sure, and it feels like there’s a heavy weight sitting on his chest. His muscles ache all over, especially, well, everywhere, and his head is pulsating along to his heartbeat.

But he isn’t burning and freezing anymore, and the world has stopped spinning even when he moves his head.

“Better,” he whispers in conclusion. Apparently, his throat is still not working. He turns his gaze back to Kurapika, who has moved to stand next to the bed. “What happened?”

Now it’s Kurapika’s turn to look away. His eyes seem to find the bathroom door, behind which Killua can faintly hear water running. He assumes it’s probably Leorio taking a shower. He briefly wonders where Gon might be.

“It appears you were poisoned,” Kurapika answers, not taking his eyes off the door. “I don’t think you would have died, but you’d be in a lot more agony if Gon hadn’t called us.” The water stops running. It takes a few moments for Leorio to emerge from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. From what Killua can see, he looks quite exhausted, too.

“And I say it’s a miracle you’re still alive,” Leorio says, apparently having heard what Kurapika said. “I hate to say it, kid, but you gotta thank that screwed-up family of yours. If you weren’t immune to most poisons, you’d have died when that happened.” He points at Killua’s tightly bandaged ankle. “Thank your maker that we weren’t in another country,” Leorio finishes, and moves to press a quick kiss to Kurapika’s lips.

Killua can feel his eyelids sliding shut, heavy as if weighed down by something. He still has questions to ask, like where Gon is, what’s going to happen next, why are Kurapika and Leorio always inclined to act so disgusting around other people. But Gon, Gon isn’t here even though he was earlier, and Killua has known for a long time that Gon does stupid things and makes stupid decisions and suddenly he’s scared, terrified, that Gon has gone off to do something profoundly idiotic.

Killua forces his eyes open and tries to sit up. His arms feel like jelly and his surroundings are spinning again, but he makes it to the edge of the bed before there’s a hand on his chest, pale fingers pressing him back and a soft voice telling him that he needs to rest, asking him what’s wrong and the next second yelling for Leorio.

He tries to fight it, but he’s too exhausted to stay upright when Leorio rushes from the other end of the room to prevent him from getting up, he succumbs to his fate of lying down for the time being.

XxX

Kurapika sighs in relief when Killua settles down and doesn’t try to sit up again. His breathing is labored and sounds overall just very difficult, and there’s a new sheen of sweat on his pale face. Leorio moves back to the side of the room where he just ran from to put on a shirt - something that he didn’t quite have the time to do earlier before Killua tried, for some godforsaken reason, sit up right after nearly dying.

Not that there’s anything new in that.

“Killua,” he starts softly. “What’s wrong, aside from the obvious?” Sometimes he just doesn’t understand either of the kids.

Killua peers at him, his eyes barely open. “Gon,” he manages to mumble, or groan, or whatever. It takes Kurapika a second to realize what Killua is trying to get to, until it dawns upon him that Gon indeed is not in the room. He can understand Killua’s distress concerning the topic, though. Kurapika allows him a soft smile.

“Where he is?” he asks, still, to confirm that he really got the question. When Killua provides him with a grunt that could be taken as an affirmation, Kurapika sets his hand to Killua’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him, Killua. He just went for a supply run, since we didn’t have time to grab everything when we left. He should be back soon,” he reassures him. Killua seems to be okay with his explanation, because he stops fighting his exhaustion.

Killua falls asleep fast and Leorio takes over the watch, allowing Kurapika some sleep himself.

XxX

When Killua wakes up the next time, there’s sunlight filtering through the blinds. He still doesn’t know what day or time it is, but there’s definite warmth around him. He opens his eyes to see tan, muscular arms embracing him, and when he turns his head, he meets hazel eyes.

“Good morning, Killua,” Gon whispers into his ear, the smile on his face reflecting relief, and Killua allows the corner of his mouth to curl up.

[mitsukiis]

19 - 21 :')

42 character development questions!

you and haru are going to make my brain super strong ;;w;; this also got pretty long again but i hope it’s cohesive…most of it was written at night and i started getting tired in some places….;; again sorry for the rambling askldjas i don’t know how to write good

19. How do they behave within a group? What role(s) do they take? Does this differ if they know and trust the group, versus finding themselves in a group of strangers? Why?

this one is a little bit easier than the others bc mitsuki already has a job! mood maker!! though it’s no fun to just stop there :v he gives yamato advice (maybe more of his philosophy) and talks to nagi when their restricted from IDOLiSH7 work. i don’t know if i can describe it right so i’ll just say mitsuki also takes on a big brother “““persona”““ for everyone too. with a group of strangers things are going to be awkward (for lack of a better term) at first; being the MC on “An ID♡LiSH Night With You!” helps of course. what’s better than keeping the conversation going ahah. 

i mean with such high energy you’d expect him to get along with a lot of people!! ;w;

20. What kind of individual relationships do they have with others, and how do they behave in them? How are they different between intimate relationships like friends, family, and lovers versus more impersonal relationships?

im actually going to start with iori/familyi just barely touched on it in the last ask but even though mitsuki believes iori to be the “better” brother, he still cares and respects iori. he wants to protect him. OF COURSE THAT DOESN’T STOP BROTHERLY ANTICS like mitsuki using iori’s ticklish nature against him or THIS LITTLE GEM FROM STORY 1 CHAPTER 9,1Mitsuki:  That’s right, I forgot.  Today is the most important day…… I got a very important first-time experience today!Iori: …..and what’s that?Mitsuki: Comforting my crying little brother with a hug!Iori: Wa……–Mitsuki: It’s fine, don’t worry….your older brother is here!Mitsuki: You worked hard, didn’t you Iori?  You worked really hard.Iori: ….., ……s……stop it!  It’s embarrassing……i just want fun iori and mitsuki antics ww it could be very soft and sillyi think it’s also important to say that i think he gets along pretty well with their parents (i mean they drink together…that takes Guts) and their grandmother

of course with the rest of i7 i could go on for AGES bc THERE’S 6 OF THEM + STAFF (i.e banri, tsumugi, otoharu) SO I HAVE TO KINDA WING IT.for the other younger members, he definitely has a Big Brother vibe–Izumi Mitsuki: We finally got everyone together, despite how busy it’s been lately. Izumi Mitsuki: Tamaki, I’ll be watching TV in my room, so if you get hungry just eat what’s in the pot. Make sure to leave some for everyone else, though.Yotsuba Tamaki: Okie.Izumi Mitsuki: Don’t play too many games!Yotsuba Tamaki: Okay.

and

【MITSUKI】： No, that’s not it at all. Look, it’s because he coughs a lot.For me personally, being able to check on Riku’s health gives me peace of mind.【TSUMUGI】： Is that so……. How has his condition been recently?【MITSUKI】： Ever since it’s started getting colder, it’s been worse than before, maybe.When it sounds painful I’ll get up to go check on him, but every time I’ll bump into Iori in front of the door. Iori always tells me to go back to sleep and sends me back to my room, though.【TSUMUGI】： You’ve been looking after him, then, Mitsuki-san.【MITSUKI】： ‘Cause I’m right next door—. I’ve studied a variety, and I’ve set up a variety of countermeasures, so if anything happens I’m always telling him to contact me without hesitation.That’s why, it’s alright.

kinda help describe what i mean. he wants to protect them too ;;the older members are little bit trickier  so i’m cherry picking yamato bc REALLY this could on Forever ;; but the best i could do was from the rabbit hoodie rabbit chat (5/5) (any part really but this one had All the Boys so…)

【YAMATO】： I heard a bunch of embarrassing stories about you from your friends, Mitsu.【MITSUKI】： Get smashed and forget everything, you old fart.

btu also【MITSUKI】： Honestly you guys—!【YAMATO】： What’s honestly about it. Mitsu, you’re a bit lacking in awareness.【MITSUKI】： ‘Bout what?【YAMATO】： Awareness of how much you’re loved.【YAMATO】： For just whose sake do you think all of these people are gathered in this damn cramped living room for?【MITSUKI】： You bastard……..【MITSUKI】： Stop trying to make me cry even though you’re completely dead drunk……..

please call an ambulance bc im actually flooding the house with my cryingthis is the happiest group of boys i’ve ever seen i love ;; ;; ;; ;; ;;

21. What kind of relationships do they tend to intentionally seek out versus actually cultivate? What kind of social contact do they prefer, and why?

THIS IS THE ONE THAT I REALLY STRUGGLED WITH BECAUSE I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT I WANT(ED) TO SAY;;w;; i had to...look up social contact....perhaps i’ll try to make this quick since i’ve already taken so much time doing everything else,,,

most relationships would be for good will and friendship. of course mutual respect and love are very important too; without good chemistry, it wouldn’t be as fun!!you could say the mitsuki’s cultivated relationships already have all that though ;w;

[uncultureddoubloon]

i’m really happy that i met my bf and that we started dating over a year ago. i’m tired, it’s late, and i wanna ramble about things. so this is gonna happen. you’ve been warned

my bf is a comforting presence. whenever i’m feeling out of sorts, being near him helps. what works even better than laying on his bed watching him play video games at his desk is getting to curl up and cuddle with him. i like it when he holds me. it grounds me to reality and reminds me that there is someone close who cares about me and that there is someone who cares about me who i care about. i’m kinda picky about who i’ll let touch me, so having someone who i’m willing to really get physically close to is nice. i like how he holds me, his arms wrapping around my body, keeping me close. when my brain doesn’t want to acknowledge that happiness is a thing that it can do, he’ll call my brain out on its bullshit (*gasp* he swore) in a silly voice, and he’ll hold me and whisper sweet nothings to remind me that he cares. that even though i’m not my normal cheerful self, he still cares and wants me to feel loved. i wish i could do more in return for what he does for me, but i have a hard time getting my brain to kick into gear when it comes to dealing with taking care of myself and my own basic needs. i had to ask him to make sure that i was eating decent amounts of food at meals last year bc i was definitely not eating enough and my ribs were way too visible. i just got into the bad habit of forgetting to eat when i was hungry. i had snack foods, yes, but that required retrieving them from the pantry which required getting up and interrupting what i was doing. i’ve been doing much better on the whole food thing thanks to him (and my grandma).

i have a folder of screenshots and pictures of things that he sends me. some of it is affirmations that i am a human being deserving of their identity here on this planet, and some is pictures he sends me like beauty is in the eye of the (dnd) beholder or cute bunnies that he runs into when getting his bike. we have our issues, but he’s willing to talk it out and call me out on behaviour that needs to be fixed, like my inability to talk things out or my general reluctance to try new things. i’m so used to bottling things up bc i didn’t ever have someone super close to me who i felt i could really open up to. i’m used to hiding things away and not talking about them. i like my safe little bubble. i know it’s relatively safe and generally not anxiety inducing. it’s paths that i know and have taken, even if there are other, possibly better ways to do things. i follow what i am familiar with and am heavily reluctant to say yes to doing things. i didn’t often hang out with friends outside of scheduled things like marching band or robotics. sure there were movie nights at friends houses, but those didn’t happen very often and were kinda my version of ‘partying’. i just didn’t get out, so it’s weird in college being able to get out more bc less parental restrictions (but not bc hw/studying load and possibly finances). we don’t really mind tho bc that means that we can just hang out doing hw together, or watch youtube or netflix, or play video games. 

he’s generally really sweet and i’m insanely grateful that we met. i don’t think that i could have gotten through the emotionally fuckery that is moving to college and living on your own without him. he is my support, and he’s helped me through more than one rough patch. even if i can’t find the words or voice to really explain what’s up, he’s willing to comfort. i’ve been getting better on turning my thoughts into words that get said, but that’s still in the works. he’s willing to work with me on that, even if he does have to sometimes drag words out of me bc i just shut down and can’t english enough on my own to try and resolve the situation, or come up with reasonings. 

[quadratic-shipping]

Kay, new icon is Vriska’s dice cause the gradient was lame, and every Vriska blog halfway to sunday has already had every photo of her face as their icon twice. It also works cause of yknow liking dnd and stuff. one thing I really liked about my last vriska pic one was the negative space made it feel like it popped and I feel like this one has sort of the same thing going for it. Wow, it can be that deep. I’m just rambling cause it’s 3am and yet again I have stayed up this long. I can;t wait til it’s winter again so I can force myself back into a normal sleep schedule. I stayed up all night a couple nights ago, and that gave me one decent night of sleep so I might just try that again tonight. Rest put under the readmore because it’s irrelevant and sleep deprived rambling I wouldn’t dare subject my beautiful followers and browsers to.

While I’m here, posting a late night thing no one will see or interact with; thank god; I was cleaning and I came across one of those neck warmer things that legit just a tube you pull up your face to keep your nose from freezing off because Canada Winters, I never can use them because I always fog up my glasses, and I just wanted to say that Niqabi gals with glasses are so brave? Legit if I had to deal with my glasses fogging up I’d die, I’d rather lose my nose to frostbite than fog them up (like I go outside enough loll) so for them to deal with that everyday is like, legendary. I mean, I guess if you were pretty antisocial you wouldn’t have to deal with it much but still, point totally stands. 

While we’re on the positivity train? Lesbians? y’all really like Vriska HUH? Thank you for interacting, I appreciate, yall are so valid. I’m torn between “You have good taste” jokes and “Yall will just like anything w/ vriska in it” and either way it takes too strong a stance on my own content to feel good about it. Obvs goes the same way for all the NB and Trans ppl interacting, yall are also Excellent and I appreciate yall. Obvs I’m cis so I don’t have any real godtier takes or anything abt. gender, but reading your guyss stuff is excellent please keep making it.

Uh sexuality update; Still labelling as bi, IDK if I really want to date men tho, before I actually and FINALLY get a taste of the other side; please; because I feel like the problem with my relationships re; dudes is just that I can’t just be myself, I’m just 900000% in my own head about it and not even like; trying to be idealized, idk whats going on I just have a hard time connecting w/ them and it’s defo my fault so idk bro. IDK it’s fun to have crushes but dating is BORING from my very limited experience with only guys which is why a gf would be excellent. Or girl aligned partner. I feel like maybe what I’m attracted to is like, femininity, not necessarily femmes or women. IDK bruh it’s weird. doesn’t help I can’t even figure out how to get and keep friends LOLLL it’s 3am. Sorry

Honestly before I started vrisrose posting I felt so useless yknow cause in the vriska circles there are a lot of intelligent people who understand canon better and are overall smarter and better spoken so I just felt like everything I had to say was just old hat and not very interesting. But the thing I like about VrisRose is no one else is talking about it as frequently ( I was searching the tag and my blog came up in the recco’s for blogs up top and I was very happy) so I feel like, hey, this is my niche. That one engineer of useless inventions quote: The best way to become top of your field is to specialize:, I jsut love rarepairs so much! I think it’s such a great way to approach character analysis because no one exists in a vaccum so seeing peoples interactions and what people like is so fun!!!! I say, invalidating all my personal issues lollll

CHARACTER ANALYSIS! FUCK TALKING ABOUT INTERACTIONS OR ACTIONS ON THEIR OWN OR THOUGHTS OR HC’S, I STAND BY MY ONE TAAKO ‘vriska did nothing wrong’ QUOTE; Trying to understand what characters morals, and their opinions on certain things by analyzing their opinions and interactions in canon is 500x more productive seeming to me than other things. Like, say taako’s thoughts about vriska, V and Lucretia are p similar actions wise, and he was pissed at her but that was mostly cause of the personal connections, when it doesn’t affect him Taako doesn’t seem to have any moral objections to any of the icky moral stuff; think robot planet or whatevs where they were gonna genocide the place and lup was like no and that was like the only reason he didn’t I’m pretty sure, I’m not too big brained on taako or adventurezone either so don’t take my word; So I think that Taak’s would be chill with Vriska. Another thing? The Lucretia thing was like, giving up which Taako is not ok with and Vriska thigns were about not giving up so I do legit think he would be totally coool with her, even if she were real, unless obvs she hurt one of the seven bird red robe people and their new friends.

ISN;T THAT SUCH A FUN METHOD OF CHARACTER ANALYSIS? I’m not drunk or in an altered state just tired enthusiastic and with a lot of pent up thoughts. Speaking of which, this song just came on it’s “Slowdance with you” by the Marcus Hedges Trend Orchestra and it is SOOOOO good, it’s on a vrisrezi playlist I put on bc I’m rereading song of the pyre because it was vriska day and it’s super good soo so good. It’s on loop now, legit best

Quick detours before I lay out some more hs thoughts; 

Overwatch:

-Ben “Captainplanet” came out w/ a new article and I LOVE IT so much and I want hhis job so bad I wanna get into stats so much ahhh  please so good it’s giving me a , this is crude but it’s the best way I can phrase it, a math erection. I love math so much <33333333

-The Shock, my faves, are doing well and I’m happy for them! I hope they go 7-0, I believe in them! I’m lying I am so fucking nervous for literally every match they have they’re gonna 2-5 AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Why am I so INVESTED? They technically could take first spot but that’s require titan’s to lose every match left and the shock to 7-0, but the thing is I thought that I wanted that but 

-then I watched the titans london match today, and I HATED the thought of titans losing. And losing so hard to other teams too, and I didn’t realize this but I think I do actually kinda like the titans?The thought of them not being a great team makes me sad. I think it’s like I really like them and shock as rivals, yknow, stage one and two, then this upcoming map? If Titans aren’t still Good in this meta it just sorta makes their rivalry not fun. Kismesis vibes is what I’m gonna say cause I’m TRASSSHHHHH pls stop my terrible hands from typing also if I ever saw actual ship stuff I would kill whoever made it. Like I’m not gonna check their socials or anything but if they’ve got a match against most teams I’d probs root for them. The Wolf section today was so funny lollll

-I think I might hate the London Spitfire. I have literally no reason to? I think all the players are good and I like them as people and I would never actively hate on them? But I’m like. Really mean to them in my head. I was so satisfied seeing htem lose to Florida, and Titans like IDK? Also they’re hella overrated so anticlutch jfc. Hate the franchise, love the players if that makes sense. IDK WHYYYYYYYYYYY

-Also I’m gonna miss tomorrows shock match and I’m so scared rip.

Misc: 

-Tripped backwards and somehow upturned my moms glass scale and it fell on my foot, that shit hurted.

-Oh My God I’m Projecting a million different things right now because I feel like this will not have an audience if you see this I’m begging you please don’t interact I’d die of embarassment keep the fact you’ve seen this a secret from me

HS:

-JFC song of the pyre is an excellent fic, I wish it would ever get updated it’s so fucking good guys

-I need to read more vrisrezi long form

-Non-sgrub vrisrezi is best vrisrezi

-My ideal Vrisrezi au would be like HS canon, diverge into non-sgrub and they completely fall out of touch, Killing Eve season 1, then Song of the Pyre. THAT is what I want.

-Killing eve season one and two would be an even BETTER VRISROSE AU AHHHHHH

-I once read a very good trollstuck rose but it was an eri-rose ship so basically what I want is that persons troll rose but paired with vriska. For how much I blog about it I’ve read very little vrisrose fic but almost everything I know comes from this fic. . Oh uh this is not the erirose fic that I read w trollstuck although it does unfortunately have erirose but I can excuse it when the vrisrose is this Excellent

Alright I’ve run out of hyper juice, have a nice night, sorry for posting thisssss

bye