#a lot more dressed down than she realistically would be but .

[khiita]

this meme on twitter immediately made me think of @infamous-if lmao 😭

[breedbun]

info; Ayato x male reader, subbot male reader, topdom ayato, soft dom Ayato, ftm reader, reader is a doll made by shogun. reader has ball joints+long hair. kirara is mentioned briefly.

warnings; i mean, reader is technically a sex doll? anal, oral (ayato receiving), creampie, breeding, belly bulge, cum swallowing :3 cunt is used to describe reader

desc; i used this idea for a cai chat

Ayato wasn't expecting any mail today. So when a familiar nekomata youkai comes along, dragging an enormous human-sized box, tied with ribbons and held together tape. As Kirara placed an exquisitely qualified letter in his palm, she sighs, wiping sweat off her forehead. "Mister Ayato, I'm not sure what you bought, but it's really heavy! Nonetheless, be sure to give Komaniya Express a good review." She purred, giving him a thumbs up, before prancing away shortly after.

Ayaka wasn't home. Perhaps this was her mail? But what could she have possibly bought, for it to be this big?.. Upon checking the letter, he's bamboozled at the sight of his name scribbled neatly, and clearly on the front. "From Raiden Ei, Electro Archon, God of Eternity." ...What the hell? He understands small gifts every now and then for his accomplishments as the head of the Kamisato Clan, and as the Yashiro Commissioner.. but this? This felt almost too much. Why, and when did the Raiden Shogun decide to gift him such a large present?

Besides the initial confusion, he pushes the box a little deeper into his warm-toned home, tearing open the delicate ribbons and sticky tape. The moment he got the outer packaging off, the inside of the box was a Japanese-style presentation.. with a doll inside. A lovely, youthful young man, with gorgeous hair reaching to the back of his knees. All he wore was a plain, white dress shirt, tied to the box with zipties. Stunned, perhaps even embarrassed, his face flushes a persimmon red. It takes him a moment to fully process what the hell Her Excellency has just sent him, because this was certainly not a regular gift.

It wasn't long after you woke up, and scanned your surroundings.. did he realize what you were. A doll, for his pleasure, at his disposal.

Ayato smiled, as he'd press your face further down onto his crotch. He didn't know the Raiden Shogun could make such realistic puppets, one with a warm and wet mouth, coating his cock with saliva. You obediently bobbed your head up and down, licking and sucking, looking up every few moments for Ayato's eyes to meet back with yours. Tilting your head every few minutes, you'd lick in an upwards direction, before Ayato forces you to deepthroat him again with a loud moan.

He'd cum in your mouth, sticky and white fluid spurting onto your tongue with a satisfying groan. Before you could swallow his seed, he stops you.. to tilt your head up. "Don't swallow yet, darling. Look at me, mouth open." His words do not go unnoticed. Upon opening your mouth again, the sticky liquid stretches from the roof of your mouth to your soft, wet tongue. He chuckles, though you could hear his unsteady heavy breaths under his composure.

Once he pulls you off his cock lovingly, he gently carries you up and places you on the bed as if you weighed no more than a feather. Turning you flat on your stomach, you squeak as he combs his fingers through your long, long hair. Brushing it aside, you feel his hands trail down from the sides of your waist, down to cup your ass lovingly. "Such realistic flesh. Her Excellency must've put lots of effort into crafting you for me.." He grips your ass, spreading them apart, much like one would spread a feast.

You lightly sway and kick your legs, feeling unfamiliar excitement shoot up your soft body. Originally, you knew you had to follow a set of orders, and no emotions were to get in the way of your duty as a pretty little doll. That was all cast aside, the moment Ayato lined his tip to your tight rim, unsure if he was even able to fit into your body. Your doubts were eased, the moment he'd roughly squeeze his large into your surprisingly wet cunt. You let out an embarrassing loud mewl, tears brimming your eyes as he pulls out all the way to his tip.. then slams back right in. He groans, moans, and he even throws his head back while he fucked you into his expensive pillows. Drooling all over the pillow covers, your body malfunctions as shockwaves travels up your artificial spine. Every time he'd thrust into your pussy, you can hear his chuckle and laughs in between every whimper he let out through your fucked out brain.

As your tummy rubs against the exquisitely soft mattress, you sputter out another sound while your flesh clenches down hard on his dick, squirting out all the juices you never knew you had. Ayato even took the liberty of rubbing your knees and elbows, your ball joints, as if he knew these were sensitive from the beginning. "Ah, reading that manual just to make you shiver is so satisfying.." Caressing your body, the one an Archon carved for him, as you feel that hollow feeling in your body be filled up with his load yet again. Sure, all of it would definitely spill out the moment you stood up, but it wouldn't take long before he'd fill you up again with you sprawled over his bed, bent over his desk, or even sandwiched between him and a wall.

Lots of his undone fantasies, he can finally release them all into you. No need to find a mistress any longer, no need to worry about an heir. After all,

You had the ability to carry a baby.

BAH THIS WAS SO BAD IDK???

[lackadaisycats]

I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication. 

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

------------------------------------------------

Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

------------------------------------------------

Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

------------------------------------------------

Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

------------------------------------------------

In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

[sirenalpha]

I'm seeing so much commentary on people reacting to the live action atla toning down Sokka's misogyny

and I'm over here like this is a total non-issue because in my own rewrite of the show I already did that exact thing, it makes complete sense to do it and they should do it because it's a weaker aspect of the original show

Sokka's early misogyny is utterly cartoonish in comparison to the set up of the rest of the SWT, it doesn't feel realistic for the only teenaged boy in a dying culture surrounded by adult women with a grandmother who left a more out and out misogynist society to act the way he does

how Sokka "resolves" his misogyny is equally cartoonish, I never liked how in The Warriors of Kyoshi literally episode 4 of the show makes a teen girl compromise her own culture with a female only fighting tradition teach a boy who is supremely rude and disrespectful to her and then still be attracted to him afterwards, it's more misogyny to fix misogyny and is very obviously men writing about how to fix misogyny especially as they have Aang make a joke about Sokka wearing a dress after going through how meaningful the fighting costume is and how a lot of Asian clothing with hanfu influences like atla borrows from would have men in what to western eyes would be dresses, Aang has already seen multiple male authority figures in robes, the joke makes no sense

I also wouldn't consider Sokka's misogyny genuinely resolved after this, consider how the show deals with his romantic relationships with both Yue and Suki and how both can be seen as extensions of how Kataang is treated in the show, rewards for the hero, especially with how Sokka interacts aggressively with Hahn instead of respecting Yue's wishes whatever her reasons for them, I think an argument can be made that Yue's death is a fridging for Sokka's storyline rather than or in combination with being a consequence of Aang's failure as an avatar or the culmination of her own storyline where she fulfills her duties as a leader to protect her own people

Beyond his romantic relationships, while Sokka drops a lot of his more misogynistic language with Katara, he doesn't support her when she faces off with the NWT leaders to learn waterbending, and he still leaves the caretaking and food preparation and grocery shopping to her which is more common than him going out to hunt or gather in order to provide for the group while he takes a leadership role like determining their travel schedule and routes, it is not an even division of labor and falls along traditional sex stereotypes

In addition to his typical duties to the group, Sokka also remains invested in the trappings of masculinity after ep4, he's concerned about what's manly and how he compares to Jet for example, there's no investigation or interrogation in his interest in meat and hunting and how they relate to masculinity and his misogyny, in the episode with Piando, his insecurity as a non-bender is resolved by giving him a new male mentor and a new martial skill, sword fighting, which is masculine in both western and Asian cultures rather than assuaging his self esteem issues in any less stereotypically masculine ways, I also think it was done so he could compare more favorably to Zuko, another male character, and even his interest in engineering and mechanics comes with a male mentor and is a traditionally masculine pursuit

the show's poor handling of misogyny also extends beyond Sokka, with the NWT, the show acts as if Pakku is the only reason the tribe is misogynistic and the only consequences to that misogyny is that women can't waterbend and there are arranged marriages, and that both the NWT and Pakku's misogyny is resolved by allowing only Katara to learn to waterbend which she doesn't even earn on her own merits, she gets the opportunity because Pakku likes her grandmother

none of this is realistic, misogyny is not because of one bad apple, Pakku doesn't make Yue's arranged marriage, Chief Arnook does, he picked Hahn for her, and the show acts as if Arnook has no authority to compel Pakku to teach Katara or any ability to persuade him in order to reduce his culpability in the NWT's misogyny as its leader to make him a more respectable character so it's not uncomfortable when Aang and Sokka follow his orders in the battle later on, but women not being able to bend and forced into arranged marriages is still status quo when the gaang leaves, Yue's just dead

I'm not even convinced the show runners understand what's wrong with arranged marriage, the issue is not Yue can't be with Sokka who she likes and at most has a slight crush on cuz she's only known him for like two days, it's that she's being treated as male property, a broodmare, and a vehicle to ensure Hahn receives the throne because her father has no male heir and picked some guy to succeed him instead, like it's not explicit in the show but that is the implication based on the historical reality of princesses in arranged marriages, and the show has her get out of it only through death idc that she ascends to being a spirit, it's still a teen girl that dies

There's also no discussion by the show of the Earth Kingdom's misogyny when it has the exact same shit going on, Toph is the only female earthbender in the show not including avatars, there might have been a female earthbender in the background when Katara broke them out of prison, but I'm not really counting that, the entire army and Dai Li are all made up of men, the EK might even be worse because the show doesn't demonstrate that women and girls even have the capacity to earthbend aside from Toph and avatars and Toph doesn't even learn from a human, she has to learn from animals, the show treats this as commentary on her disability but the show has no compelling reason why it can't also be commentary on her sex, Toph was also originally supposed to be a boy so this could have ended up so much worse there literally would have been no female earthbenders aside from avatars at all, I'm not counting Oma as she might just be a mythological figure not a real person that once lived

The Fire Nation kinda barely avoids the same issue, Azula is the only named female firebender aside from avatars in the show but she has two female sidekicks who despite being non-benders show martial skill and there are clearly female soldiers and guards in the FN military so there are much stronger implications of female firebenders existing and being completely allowed to train their abilities and that Azula isn't exceptional in that respect like Toph is, only for being a prodigy with blue fire

Azula was also originally supposed to have an arranged marriage in s3 and they dropped it in favor of showing that royal and noble girls could casually date in the FN which has wild implications for women's empowerment in the country more so than but especially in combination with the fact women can train and join the military (which is why I say the FN is not fascist it's literally the least misogynistic country aside from Kyoshi and by like a country mile so it's literally not misogynistic enough) not that the show does anything more than minor teen drama with it

again, the vast majority of this misogyny is completely unremarked upon by the show especially after s1 when they leave the NWT, it is clearly a fictional world made by men with no true understanding of misogyny just a vague awareness that misogyny is bad and what the really obvious and outdated examples of it are, this is a narrative inconsistency in the show to have the examples and commentary on misogyny be so cartoonish in the beginning and then disappear after s1

your options to resolve this inconsistency is to either go all in with more realistic misogyny and provide commentary on all of it but this takes effort and will be divisive, or take the easier route and ease off the cartoonish-ness of it and comment less on it to avoid drawing attention to all instances of misogyny in the show

obviously Netflix was gonna do the latter

(not me tho, I'm making it less cartoony and dealing with it in my rewrite)

[starstruckmoony]

Hello! May I request a muggle AU with Theodore, with this meet-cute prompt: "they're on opposite sides of a wedding party to the bride and groom" (prompt is from @/thewritersafterglow on Instagram). Thank you! I know this request is in good hands :)

aaaaaa thank you anon! <3 this is the first request i've got in a while (again tysm it made me very very happy <3<3) and i had lots of fun writing it so i hope it meets your expectations!

can't help falling in love.

masterlist , requests

pairing - theodore nott x reader

trope/tags - muggle!au, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff (side note - this isn't particularly realistic because i don't really know how weddings work in different parts of the world, so i kind of just went by how they function in my country and some bits and pieces i've managed to pick up from movies and such. i know it probably won't be accurate for everybody but i tried my best LMAO)

word count - 3k

warnings - language, drinking, smoking, cheesy at the end

when you recieved an envelope in your mail one fine morning in late may, you never would have expected it to be an invitation to your primary school classmate's wedding in the english countryside. you could still recall the wonderful memory of choking on your coffee and scaring the life out of your poor cat when you saw her name plastered in big letters in the center of the paper, right below a picture of her and her fiancé. it was a miracle how she remembered you existed. to be frank, you were kind of honoured, and you made sure to confirm your arrival almost immediately. hell yeah, you were coming. free food and alcohol? who in the right mind would pass on that?

so about three months later, sometime in mid-august, you found yourself inside of a crowded venue, sweating buckets in your silky green dress, without a fan, or anybody to keep you company. a few of your old classmates were there too, but not a single one of them bothered to offer you a greeting. what a bunch of arseholes.

you stood leaned against the wall in the very back where there were fewer people, attempting to cool yourself down by fanning the air around you with your hands as you waited for the godforsaken ceremony to finally start. to nobody's surprise, the bride was a little late, and the groom's family was in a mild state of disarray. it was kind of funny, but not as funny as it would have been if you weren't feeling so bloody hot. do they not have air conditioning in here? how do people get married in these conditions? and why does the best man look more terrified than the groom?

the loud sound of somebody's shoes scraping against the tiles right next to you shook you right out of your train of thought, and you placed your hand against your chest in horror, "jesus christ." you muttered under your breath, the unfamiliar man attempting to catch his breath scared the life out of you.

he glanced at you for a split second, appearing rather exhausted (aftermath of sleeping through five alarms and having to run to the venue because his friends were too lazy to wait for him), "sorry." he offered you an apology breathlessly, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. you thought that you were being overdramatic when it came to the heat and the current atmosphere of the wedding, but this man seemed to have surpassed you. he was rather handsome though, despite being drenched in sweat from what you assumed was running, also paired with the humid air inside. his eyes were strangely captivating, and he looked a little too good in that suit of his for it to be considereded legal. were you staring? you were probably staring. you trailed your eyes away, pretending to be entertained by the groom's father who was attempting to explain the situation to the guests. you cursed inwardly, realising that you'd be stuck in there for a long time.

you turned to the pretty guy again, deciding that you should, perhaps, talk to him, "you don't look like you wanna be here." fantastic start. those probably weren't the words he wished to hear in those circumstances, but your observations didn't seem to annoy him at all. he actually chuckled instead, "am i that transparent?"

"quite." you responded a little too nonchalantly than intended, taking a quick glance at the door in hopes that you'll see the bride come in. nope. you returned to your original position. how wonderful that was, more waiting.

"do you have any water in there?" the man spoke again, pointing at the purse you had tucked under your arm.

you took it in your hands and peeked inside, knowing that you most likely wouldn't have what he was asking for, "no," you shook your head, but continued rummaging through it, "i have this, though." you pulled out a tiny bottle of liquor and shrugged before shoving it into his face.

he didn't hesitate to grab it, he would have taken anything that was liquid enough. he drank it all, not that there was much, before handing the bottle back to you with a scowl. he coughed a little as the alcohol burned his throat, and you couldn't help but snort. 

"i don't know how smart that was." it wasn't, really, since it would only dehydrate him more, but it worked for the time being. he coughed again, falling back against the wall, finally able to breathe somewhat normally.

"you'll find out in a few hours," you didn't miss the smile that painted his features, and it encouraged you to carry on, "how do you know the bride... or the groom?" you questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going to kill at least some of the remaining time you had. you were bored out of your mind.

"the groom," he nodded briefly, "we went to college together, funny bloke, he invited me and my two other friends who are... somewhere in here," he stretched his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd for a short moment, "eh, whatever." he shrugged, and then reached into his pocket, but quickly retrieved his hand. it was still empty. you had assumed he reached for a cigarette before he was able to remember where he was.

"you won't go looking for them?" you queried, finding his neutrality over the whole situation slightly bemusing. it wasn't every day that a hot guy like him ditched his friends for you, and it was rather pleasant to think about. he was hoping he wasn't being so obvious about it, but you read him a little too easily.

"what, bored of me already?" he questioned, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"i might be, now that you said that." you scowled in pretend disgust, drawing a breathless laugh from him. you shortly sunk into a not overly uncomfortable silence, both internally debating with yourselves about whether you should keep it going or not. you were kind of drawn to each other, after all. the consequence of attending a wedding without a date must have had an influence on it, you told yourself. he mustered a similar, lame explanation.

"i'm theodore, by the way." he decided to break the ice after a while, and you almost sighed in relief, "y/n." you shook his hand politely.

"nice wedding." he added, his face scrunching at the sight before him. the sarcasm in his tone was obvious.

"delightful, isn't it?" you offered the older lady that passed by you a forced smile, and then eyed her giant pink hat judgementally. you and theodore resembled a mean high school couple who had an opinion on absolutely anyone and everything, just standing there, laughing amongst yourselves and making fun of all the other guests and their stupid pastel outfits. it made sense why your classmates hadn't approached you, but you didn't let them occupy your mind any longer. you found yourself a like-minded companion for the night, one that was ten times funnier, and the prime example of eye-candy.

"imagine she never shows up." theodore said after you shamelessly fed one another with some interesting past gossip about the bride and the groom. judging by what he had told you, those two were a match made in heaven. and you could say that with your whole chest.

"god, don't plant that idea into my head. i spent my last three paychecks on this bloody dress." you snorted, dusting it off when you noticed that it had got a bit dirty.

"it looks perfect on you, though." theodore's little compliment took you off guard, and he must have noticed judging by the way he grinned.

"thanks." you felt yourself blush a little at his comment, and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, the bride's mother burst through the door, announcing that her daughter would be there shortly. you exchanged a relieved glance with theodore, fucking finally.

despite the long wait, the ceremony played out quite beautifully. the couple exchanged their vows, humourous and tear-jerking all at once. people laughed, people cried, somebody's baby did both. the best man hadn't forgotten to bring the rings, and the maid of honour looked happier for the bride than the bride. nobody backed out last moment, and nobody objected after the infamous "speak now or forever hold your peace". you left the venue with a smile on your face, pleasantly surprised.

theodore and his friends offered to give you a ride to an even larger venue where the reception was being held after you told them that you had arrived with a cab, and you happily accepted their offer. the two idiots he came with were just as unserious as he was, and you had soon found out that they all attended the wedding with the same intentions as you. eat food, get drunk (and then sleep in the car because mattheo wants to get wasted but doesn't want to run them off the road and kill somebody in the process).

the reception, thankfully, moved a lot faster than the ceremony. by some sheer dumb luck, you had been instructed to sit at the same table as theodore, lorenzo and mattheo. your shitty classmates were there too, so you assumed that the table was designed specifically for that - old friends from school that the newly weds didn't talk to very much, but still liked them enough to invite them.

so, after the grand entrance, loud clapping and cheering, a cute speech from the bride, more clapping and cheering, the best dinner you had had in a while, a few more emotional speeches, and even more clapping and cheering (hollering this time, too), the dj finally showed up. it was the part of the night you had been the most excited for. the first dance was absolutely beautiful and even brought a few tears to your eyes, but god, the moment you heard an onset of lower-than-nightclub-quality music blast from the speakers, your hopes had all gone down the drain.

the dance floor filled up in a matter of seconds, and you had never been more appreciative of the existence of wine. not a single song that was played in the span of fourty-five minutes was your cup of tea. and as different people's requests kept incoming, it only got worse.

theodore seemed to be having the same problem. mattheo too, considering he had about five shots in less than half an hour. lorenzo wasn't doing much better either. he was entertaining himself by making paper planes out of tissue paper and leaving them on the table like a strange art project.

"this music is terrible." theodore's voice was completely drowned out by the godawful sounds coming from the speakers, you couldn't hear a thing he was saying.

"what?!" you shifted a bit closer to him, covering one of your ears with your palm to subdue at least some of the noise.

"i said that this music was terrible!" he tried not to shout, but it would have been impossible for you to comprehend whatever he had said if he hadn't done so. yes, it was fucking awful. many people would disagree, considering how many of them were still on the dance floor, either fully wasted already or slowly getting there. at least the newly weds were having a good time, both slightly tipsy too.

"tell me about it!" you yelled back, rolling your eyes. you considered asking him to accompany you outside, for a smoke or something, though you didn't really need an excuse. anywhere would have been better than in there. but you chickened out before you were able to speak, continuing to sip on your wine in silence. silence, that was funny, mostly because of how unbearably bloody loud the music was.

lorenzo suddenly stood up, and he yelled something into mattheo's ear. the other stared at him in confusion, and then burst out laughing into his face. he turned to you instead, and you saw his lips move, but didn't understand a thing he was saying.

"huh?!" you and theo yelled out in unison, and lorenzo waved his hands dismissively at you, defeated. he pushed his way through the crowd on the dance floor and shuffled over to the dj. he threw an arm around the man, probably trying to make some friendly conversation. they seemed to be getting along.

perfect. you reached for the wine bottle, refilling your glass and taking large gulp. you were hoping that lorenzo had enough charm to sway the dj into playing something else. it took about twenty minutes of insignficant chit-chat for the man to finally nod and give him a thumbs up, and that's then the beginning of dancing queen blessed your tortured ears.

you gasped in shock, immediately getting up onto your feet and latching onto theodore's arm. he didn't really protest when you tugged at his sleeve and pulled him to the dance floor which got even more crowded than it was before. mattheo managed to fall out of his chair, but he followed the two of you and joined you in the mass of people.

"thank me later!" lorenzo yelled your way before a pretty girl grabbed his attention. the night got so much better from then on. the dj appeared to have whipped up a large playlist of abba's work, since the songs were playing one after another, each one bringing your mood up. you had completely blocked out anything that had happened before you heard the tune of the first song, and you had only returned to the table with theodore to refill your glasses before running back to the dance floor.

you couldn't recall the last time you had that much fun, singing your heart out, jumping up and down, showing off some ridiculous moves, letting theodore hold your hand and spin you around. the dj stuck to the same genre for a while, playing old pop songs, keeping everybody on their feet. some of them you didn't know, but you weren't about to sit back down after doing so for almost two hours, so you danced to them too nevertheless.

that is, until your legs started hurting a little too much for it to be tolerable and your throat had got a bit sore from belting several songs with the bride. your head was spinning too, courtesy of having so much wine. theodore took the opportunity to ask you to accompany him outside (because he really needed a cigarette) after some slow tune neither of you were familiar with had been put on.

you nodded your head took a hold of his hand as he led you out the door. you clumsily made your way down the stairs, laughing as you did so. the effects of alcohol were beginning to show themselves.

as fun as it was, getting out of there for a short while was a need. you slumped down onto one of the stone benches placed outside the venue, sighing comfortably as the chilly breeze of the night cooled you down.

you immersed yourself into another casual discussion, not a very significant one, as neither of you could even stand properly for too long without stumbling, but it was nice breather from the wild atmosphere inside. you liked talking to theodore, and even with your clouded thoughts, you knew you'd want to see him again after this. there wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"i thought i'd have to leave early." theodore laughed to himself as he took the last drag from his cigarette, and then tossed the burnt out stub onto the concrete.

"and make me stay here all alone?" you teased, although you probably would have left too if it wasn't for lorenzo and his skillful flirtation tactics or whatever the hell that was.

"who said i wouldn't bring you along?" his response made heat rush to your cheeks, and you put your head down with a breathless chuckle. you were quiet for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts.

"you know, this might sound a little weird, but," you chewed on the inside of your cheek, not really able to think straight. you were tipsy, after all, "i'm glad i met you today," you tilted your head to the side, drunkenly observing him, "you're nicer than i anticipated." as backhanded as it sounded, that was the best you could do.

it was theodore's turn to blush after you said the words, and it didn't manage to go past you, despite him trying his hardest to hide it.

"yeah, i mean no– it's not weird, i'm uh," he trailed off, contemplating whatever it was that he wanted to say next. honestly speaking, he didn't know how to put it into words, "i'm glad we met too, you're–"

one thing that theodore hated was tripping over his words and not being able to be blunt with somebody he took a liking to, which is why he was so, very grateful to hear elvis' can't help falling in love coming from the inside of the venue.

you looked up at him when you realised which song it was, waiting to see if he'll ask you to dance. and he did, but he didn't lead you back in through the door like you thought he might. you stayed outside in the light wind, slowly swaying to the music, his hands on your waist and your arms around his neck.

you liked it better that way, just the two of you in your own little world with nobody else to disrupt you. you let your head rest on his shoulder, and his grip on your waist tightened just a little bit, like he was making sure you won't leave him. you smiled to yourself, god, that was the last thing you were planning on doing.

[greensimp]

Gyutaro falling in love with a pregnant S/O - with no husband or whose husband left her - and adopting her child as his? 🥺

I love this idea! I'm already doing a fic where the child is biologically his, but it would definitely be more realistic for Gyutaro to acquire a child through adopting one. Whether he'd actually do that or not is irrelevant, anything can happen in fanfiction >:)

__________________________________________________

Cannon!Gyutaro x Pregnant!Reader

TW: implied/referenced sex work, foul language A/N: Headcannon-ish format, but more detailed than the average one. Reader is obviously AFAB.

___________________________________________________

You live in Rashamon. Like most girls in the entertainment district, you did what you could to survive. And, well, that meant doing a lot of unsavory things.

It was an inevitability that you’d end up pregnant, but unlike many women who do in your town of origin, you were determined to give your baby a good life.

You had no idea who the father was, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t be much help anyway.

You decided to beg for a place in one of the many houses of Yoshiwara, but you were unsurprisingly shot down at the door once you mentioned you were with child. At least, until you arrived at the Kyogoku house.

Much to your surprise, you were given a place in the house in exchange for your services as a house maid. While you weren’t required to take clients, you were expected to work a lot. That included assisting the Oiran with her many dress changings throughout the day.

This is how you’d catch the attention of Gyutaro.

At first, he’d be indifferent to your existence, only occasionally listening in to your conversations with Daki from within her body. You aren’t the first poor girl to tend to his sister, and you most certainly wont be the last.

However, something you mentioned one day would cause him to shift a bit.

You were from Rashamon.

It was a simple response to a prompt from Daki, but the way you said it tugged at a long-forgotten part of his brain.

Soon, he’d ask you questions vicariously through his sister, much to her annoyance.

The more he learned about your situation, the more interested he would become.

Around the 6-month mark of your pregnancy, it was evident that you were becoming unfit to work like how you’ve been doing. So, you were allowed more bedrest.

You absence did not go unnoticed by Gyutaro, who at this point had been technically talking to you for about 3 months through his sister.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he was beginning to care about your progress.

It would frustrate him to no end. To the point where Daki would forcefully eject him for writhing around so much.

“You need to take out this crap somewhere else, brother! Or else I’ll just eat the bitch and say she ran off-“

Oh he didn’t like that.

One stone cold glare was enough to confirm Daki’s suspicions.

She couldn’t believe her brother was beginning to care about a human. How bothersome.

“Fine, go show yourself to her, then. I’m sure she’ll just jump all over you looking like that.”

He’d indignantly storm off to go and vent, but he wasn’t very careful about it because the second he stepped out of the door he bumped right into you.

You’d yelp in surprise and begin to fall, but he’d panic and catch you before you hit the ground.

You’d seen him.

This was bad.

You’d look up at him in surprise, instantly taking notice of the unnatural bodily proportions and eye color. However, you wouldn’t start screaming or try to run away. In fact, you’d stare.

Daki would immediately try to trap you in her belt, as now you’d know too much, but Gyutaro would squash it with his foot in anger and fear.

“Brother! She saw you! I can’t let her just walk away!”

He wouldn’t understand it, but he’d feel this overwhelming urge to protect you.

“Don’t you dare.”

Daki would be pissed. Pissed and betrayed that he’d choose the well-being of a random woman over his own sister. Had these past 100 years meant nothing?!

“What has gotten into you! She’s just a human!”

You’d just be standing awkwardly behind the strange demonic entity that was suddenly hellbent on protecting you from your Oiran, who was supposedly the sister of said demonic entity. You’d think this was some kind of weird fever dream.

“Wh-what’s going on?!”

Gyutaro would snap his gaze to you, the way his face softened sending a strange tingly feeling through your stomach.

Gyutaro, on the other hand, would be extremely conflicted. There’s this pregnant human woman he, for whatever reason, grew attached to, and his beloved sister. Would he be able to make some kind of dynamic work with you two? One where you can co-exist?

He’d pick you up in a panic and bolt down the hall, leaving Daki scrambling to catch him with her Obi. She was too slow, though.

Wouldn’t this be a funny story to tell years from now. Your child’s adoptive father kidnapping you from his own sister. Well, that actually is what happened, but we won’t talk about it very often for Daki’s sake (she’s very embarrassed).

Anyway, back to running away.

He’d run with you like a bat out of hell straight out of Yoshiwara.

You’d, of course, be stressed the hell out, so he’d have to make the supernatural speed part of the escape a short-lived venture.

He’d set you down before pacing around you and mumbling to himself, neurotically scratching at his skin until he bled.

Out of worry, you’d grab his arm to snap him out of it, telling him that it was bad for him. Of course, when he began to actively regenerate before your eyes, you shot your hand back and stared in awe.

“Y-you’re a demon, aren’t you?”

Shit shit shit shit he didn’t know what to do. Perplexingly enough, however, you wouldn’t act scared.

You felt as though this man had good intentions, and… well… he did look a lil’ pretty… okay very pretty.

“Does… does that not freak you out?”

You’d place your hands on your tummy in thought, the sight of which made an unexpected wave of butterflies shoot through his stomach.

“Well… maybe a little… I don’t really know much about them other than they eat people. Although, I feel like if you were going to eat me, you would have done it already…”

He didn’t know if he liked your blind trust in him or not. Of course, HE knew his intentions were not to hurt you, but how would YOU know that?

Turns out, you would just be really good at reading people. It saved your life a lot when you lived in Rashamon, that fact eventually dawning on Gyutaro in the future.

Gyutaro would finally get to genuinely talk to you on that night. And boy did you two talk.

He learned more than he probably should have for you having just met him hours before.

He would learn that you yearned for a little home in the mountains away from Yoshiwara so you could raise your child without the threat of the dangerous men that plagued your childhood. That was why you were working so hard even though you were supposed to be resting.

The more you indulged in his questions, the more he wanted to give you what you wanted. Your resolve to break your familial cycle of sex work and thievery for a life of peace for your baby only deepened his feelings for you. You weren’t pathetic. You weren’t selfish. You deserved more than this place. You deserved what he and his sister never received.

After convincing Daki to not kill you, he’d visit you in your room every night for hours at a time.

Eventually, he’d do it. He’d be unable to ignore that he’d actually fallen in love with you. He was physically unable to hurt you in any way. Intentionally at least. The mere thought of you bleeding or crying for help would send him into a panic attack. It would be quick, awkward even, but he’d grab you by the cheeks and kiss you.

And you’d kiss back. Why wouldn’t you? He’d become a rock in your life before you had even realized it. You were looking forward to his visits. He’d always bring you gifts and food, it was so obvious he was trying to court you.

After he’d confess, he would secretly set off into the night after you fall asleep to work on a special present for you.

What is this present?

Well, he wouldn’t be done with it until right before you were due to give birth, but he managed with a little help from Daki.

He’d blindfold you and gently carry you into the night, not allowing you to peek.

Once he’d arrive at his destination, he’d set you down and ask you to close your eyes, which you would do.

Then, when he’d tell you to open them, you’d burst into tears.

A little house…

It would overlook a beautiful clearing in the forest where a river full of fish would cut through it. It would never flood, because it was on a hill. You’d never go hungry, because the land was fertile. You’d never have to worry about muggers or assaults from creepy men ever again.

You would bawl into his chest and thank him a million times.

You were forever in his debt, but he’d never ask anything of you. Your love was enough for him.

The house was quaint, and you barely got through the little tour he gave you until you reached the nursery.

That’s where you swear you could have fainted.

“You thought about them?”

“Of course.”

“Does… does this mean you….”

You wouldn’t be able to finish before bursting into a fit of sobs again.

But he knew what you meant.

“If you’ll let me…”

He’d adopt the baby as his own.

[problemchildtm]

BAU Matchmaker

Derek Morgan x gn Bau!reader

1.6k words

A/n: Anotha one. I had an idea and had to commit. Shout out to feminominom by Chappel Roan to keep me going.

Warnings: slight cuss words (like one I think) just a lot of fluff

Being intuitive is not for the weak and Penelope Garcia was more than aware of that. For years she’s watched you and Derek beat around the bush instead of admitting you felt something for each other. It was infuriating. So clearly the only solution was to set you up without telling you it was a setup. It all started with a ticket. 

Wednesday morning she walked into the bullpen with every intention to gaslight her beloved chocolate thunder into fulfilling her dream of being a Godmother to the children Morgan and you will eventually have. “What’s got you so excited this morning babygirl?” Morgan asked. As she mentally cheered she replied, “Well Chocolate Thunder I got us tickets to the very best carnival in town.” To say Morgan was not enthused would be an understatement. Obviously, Penelope knew her friend well enough to recognize his disdain for carnivals but it was the best and easiest way to get the two of you close while having fun. Playfully Garcia added, “What it could be fun. There’s live music, food, plus you don’t even have to play any games. Humor me?” She knew then and there he was in. Morgan begrudgingly agreed because realistically he could never turn Penelope down. Excitedly she assured her friend he wouldn’t regret it and all but ran back to her lair. Step one complete.

 Step two wouldn’t be as easy but she had faith nonetheless. All she had to do was find a reason to cancel on Derek and somehow convince him to bring you as a replacement. Can’t be too hard right? Wrong. Somehow Derek Morgan found every reason to not ask you. “They’re probably busy.” “I don’t want to bother them.” “It would be awkward and I don’t think they like me enough to spend that kind of time with me.” Excuses, excuses, excuses is all she heard. For starters, she knew for a fact you were not busy as she already asked you what your plans were for the weekend and you basically said nothing. Secondly, you loved being bothered by Derek, there was no denying it. Every time he had a slick comment to make he’d run over to you and whisper it in your ear just to see you laugh. Whenever you were in the middle of doing something, you’d drop everything to listen to whatever he had to say to you. Hell, Penelope’s sure she saw you pretend to be bored so he’d approach you. Lastly, there’s no way you didn’t like him. From the dopey looks the two of you shared to the lovesick smiles, there was no room for debate. You had it bad. And so did he. So how could everyone in the world see the feelings you shared except the two people who actually shared them? So instead of Derek waking up and asking you, Penelope took it into her own hands. On a mission, Garcia slinked over to you, “Hey you’re not doing anything Saturday right?” “Nope,” you replied. inconspicuously Garcia said, “Well if you’re interested I think Morgan has an extra carnival ticket and he’s looking for someone to give it to.”  Calling her bluff you asked, “Doesn’t Morgan hate carnivals? Something about the games being overpriced and rigged and whatnot.” The fact that you knew that alone set the plan in stone. There was no way she’s not succeeding in this setup. Penelope Garcia refuses failure. “I invited him to go with me but something came up with Kevin so I had to cancel and as the original ticket owner I appoint you as his plus one.” Laughing you respond, “I don’t think it works that way.” Seeing the glare on her face you decide to give in and ask Morgan for the ticket. What’s the worst that could happen? 

You were eating your words. Miraculously he agreed and you were ready for a night of childlike fun. Everything was going great until he picked you up. You got in the car and it hit you. He looked good. Derek never dresses up for the office but seeing this casual look was almost too much. On top of that, his cologne was intoxicating, taking over your every sense. He was hypnotizing. “Everything okay sweetheart?” He smiled. No, you were not okay but you didn’t have to tell him that. “Yeah everything’s great I’m just excited, I love carnivals,” you said almost convincingly. The rest of the drive was peaceful and you tried to shove your thoughts in the back of your mind. You were friends that’s it. On the flip side, Derek was just as gone as you were. Luckily he was more composed and didn’t stare at you with his mouth agape like he really wanted to. Ugh, you looked beautiful as always but the close proximity made you addicting. Once you finally got to the carnival, Derek parked and opened your door while helping you out because in his words. “Someone like you should never have to open their own doors.” That kind of flirty banter continued throughout the night and you returned most of it. The carnival was amazing. The lights were mesmerizing and the venue was filled with things to do. Despite the overstimulation, Derek’s eyes were trained on you, just taking in the sight of you surrounded by the lights. He even offered to play those “overpriced and rigged” games. You denied because you had other plans. Starting with the band. You practically dragged him over to listen. The music was great and as you walked away you made a note to listen to more of their music when you got home. The rest of the night was spent eating some good food and browsing attractions. You were having so much fun but you couldn’t help but wonder what this would be like if there was more. Not that you dislike being his friend but you wanted more with him. All good things must come to an end so you decided to finish the night on the Ferris wheel, as one does. It took some convincing but he gave in (How could he not). 

The view from above was breathtaking and it was only accentuated by you. Derek has had a staring problem all night but this specific moment was one he needed to capture. He was so close. So close to you and so close to spilling his guts about his feelings for you. There was a reason he was so apprehensive about you tagging along with him. He didn’t want to blur the line between friends and more than friends. Derek Morgan has always been a decisive person but right now he was lost. He could either tell you everything and face rejection and humiliation, or he could bottle it up and wonder about all the what-ifs. You learned so much about him in the little time you’ve been at the BAU and in that same frame he’s been so much happier. He thought it was because he could finally relate to someone but deep down he knew the truth. He was infatuated with you and every second he had to deny it was torture. Why should he waste the perfect moment to confess everything? Why wonder what could’ve been when he can find out right now? Screw being scared. He was going to tell you he liked you and ask you without any fear because- “Will you go out with me?” you said breaking him out of his thoughts. “What?” said an incredibly shocked Derek Morgan. That was not the reaction you wanted and instantly you regretted everything. Unfortunately for you, there was no room to backtrack. Scrambling you said, “I’m sorry I just really really like you and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Let’s just forget this ever happened because I’m embarrassed and can probably never show my face again or at least anytime soon-” This time it was his turn to interrupt you as he cut off your rambling with a chaste kiss. The kiss could only be described as months of feelings and tension being exchanged in a single action. Everything fell into place as you kissed him back and solely focused on him. Eventually, the two of you separated with huge, dazed smiles on your faces. Before you could say anything Derek launched into an explanation. “I’ve liked you for a while, probably since you joined the team. I never acted on it because I had no clue if you felt the same or if an inter-team relationship would be worth the risk, but it is. I want you, I want to be with you if you’ll let me. We can take it at any pace you’re comfortable with because I could never imagine losing or missing out on someone like you. Someone kind and thoughtful while being a total badass in the field. You are incredible and I would love if you let me take you out.” It was like you were on cloud nine. You always thought being with Derek Morgan would be amazing but you never imagined this. Astonished, all you could say was, “Technically I asked you out first but I could make an exception this one time.” You were both smiling as you went in for another kiss and let’s just say you didn’t come back up for air until the ride stopped.  Penelope was anxious. She had been texting both of you since last night so she could get real-time updates on your date-not-date but there was nothing. She had so much pent-up energy she got to the office earlier than normal and just paced by your desk. Even the looks by Hotch, Rossi, and Reid didn’t defer her, that’s just how serious she was. When you finally arrived at the office every worry she had vanished. She wanted to jump on the two of you and demand answers immediately but seeing the doe eyes and love-struck smiles on your faces she decided not to. She’ll at least wait until lunchtime.

[sunshineting]

Just a lil drabble 😚

Dad!Gojo

Fluff w mention of sex

Imagine you and Gojo have a baby 😭

-Y’all’s daughter is the cutest little thing; inheriting your brown skin tone with his white hair and blue eyes.

-When Koyo was an infant, you would constantly wake up to her just staring at you with those big blue eyes. It was a bit jarring at first, you had to get used to it just like you did with Gojo. The creepiest, though, was once when you checked the baby monitor in the middle of the night and she was staring directly into the camera.

-Gojo loves that Koyo inherited your curls, they’re one of his favorite things about you. He tries his hardest to do styles on her, but they never turn out quite right. Plenty of times when he’d tried to do something as simple as pigtails they ended up crooked. He leaves most of the styles to you, letting you do all types of braids and twists on your baby.

-Potty training is hell; your daughter HATES pooping on the potty.

“Koyo, do you need to potty?” You ask. It’s been about two hours since she last went, and you’re trying to keep up a schedule. She shakes her head and continues playing with her blocks. Just to be sure, you walk over to her to check her pull-up. You smell it before you see it. Koyo catches onto you, so she starts running away.

“Satoru, come get your child!” You yell. And just like that, your husband appears with Koyo upside down in his hand. She’s just giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

-Gojo spoils his baby. Oh, she’s spoiled rotten, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Daddy, I want this!” Your three year old points at an expensive toy kitchen set.

“How do you ask nicely, Koyo?” Satoru asks.

“May I have this toy please?”

“I say yes, but we gotta ask the boss. Well, mama, whaddya think?” He picks Koyo up in his arms and holds her at his level. The two of them stare at you expectantly, waiting on your response.

“Alright, alright. What color do you want?” You give in. Your daughter squeals and laughs with delight.

-When y’all sign her up for daycare, Gojo is more upset than you are. And that’s saying a lot. On her first day, you have tears brimming in your eyes. It hurts seeing your baby walk away happily into her new class.

“What if she needs me? What if something happens? She can’t go to school yet, she’s just a baby!” Gojo laments in the car. Your three year old is very smart and mature for her age, so realistically you don’t have much to worry about. Unfortunately, though, she has two very dramatic parents who love her dearly.

“Let’s go back and get her. We can go get her and she can start over tomorrow. I’ll be ready then,” he begs.

-To be honest, Gojo kinda eats as a dad. He’s super fun, but he can get serious. He’s so go-with-the-flow that anytime a hiccup happens in your meticulous plans, he calms you into believing everything will be ok. Eventually though, he wants another kid. Koyo is four already and he misses having a little baby.

“Cmonnnn let’s have one more. Koyo needs someone to play with and I miss the baby stage. Plus, you look so sexy pregnant. I love seeing you round with my babies. You know I love breeding your tight little cunt,” the last of his words are nothing more than a whisper in your ear. You end up folding for him that same night.

-Satoru definitely makes Megumi watch the kids when y’all need a night out. Megumi doesn’t mind too much because both kids are well behaved. All three of his students love your kids; Yuuji likes playing a little rough with your son, Kawa, and Nobara loves dressing Koyo up

[niftukkun]

fanart for a scene in @nerdydowntherabbithole 's Taking Life As Is on AO3 !! a scene early on in the fanfic that sounded so cool it gripped me with inspiration, where a vulture swoops down and gets fucking got by a leviathan while our dear protagonists look on in horror of the beautiful brutality of mother nature happening right in front of them! dont you love it when you leave your rotting corpse behind and immediately get hit with the existential horror of almost dying and the primal fear of seeing something that much bigger than you and realising your fragility when you were once a godlike being above such lowly thoughts and struggles? anyway.

some details and thoughts !! :

-just before this scene, sugar (survivor's name in this fic) hunted and ate a salamander, so i included it in this here drawin too !! hell yeah esoteric fic-accurate details -(pro tip for any artists out there; if you want to push something into the background, gradient overlays are your friend. also, dont forget to check your values. outline your characters if they aren't popping out of the background enough) -in other, not fic-accurate detail,, moon's dress and marks. i think in the fic, moon's dress is more like,, an actual dress with sleeves and such. but also like, i do what i want and i want something thats barely a dress so i can show off my anatomy/mechanical bits art skills. i dont care if its not canon compliant im calling rule of cool -whoops i forgor the wires uhh shit nevermind it would cover the cool bits anyway whatever -also, while i am proud of the vulture and leviathan, they both used reference. like, i sketched them out yeah, but also the sketch was mostly done by staring at a reference the whole time and overlaying it on the canvas as needed when the drawing looked a little too off. so if you look at this and think 'aw man this guys too good at drawing i could never draw a vulture/leviathan/background/whateverthefuck like that' youre wrong. use references and get better at art by referencing references -shoutout to the miraheze wiki btw for supplying most of my references for this. fandom wiki could never

this fic holds a special place in my heart. like, i dont agree with it on a lot of things (how the cycle works, time between slugcat campaigns, how rot works, etc), but its very internally consistent and i like how all the characters are written. i really do like how, despite all the bickering, the iterators really do care for each other and love each other. i like that the blame isn't pushed just to pebbles, the acknowledgement of there being a lot of nuance and complications in the whole situation. i like the worldbuilding, nsh's wetland-esque biome, srs's gleaming glass beaches, the different interesting fauna/flora, slugcat society worldbuilding, the fucking trains hell yes trains.

most of all though, i love the authors dedication to getting a happy ending. no one left behind. all the iterators in the local group are getting freed (except for innocence but thats a different thing) all the slugcats are alive and doing well (even artificer's kids!!). and even though the fic throws the characters around, bad things happen, steps backward are taken,,, there is almost a palatable message that no matter what, things will be okay. artificer did bad and its acknowledged with visible consequences (scavenger temple route, which mightve made things so much easier on the route to nsh) but she still gets her kids back. hunter had her rot cured and even got some sick new upgrades but still struggles with overexertion and moments of weakness. both pebbles and moon have ptsd from the rot and the rain respectively and its handled reasonably well, not even mentioning the survivors guilt and learned helplessness on nsh and the whole,, guilt from causing this whole fiasco and the feeling of it being all their fault from srs,,,, , ,,,

i dont know. i just really like how dedicated the fic is to showing the realistic consequences of the unforgiving and brutal world of rain world and weaving it into a story of forgiveness and freedom. there are struggles but the heroes will still win and get to go home happy. its cathartic. i love it a lot.

[chubs-deuce]

Your art style is so satisfying!! I love the way you render faces!

When did you come up with the concept of Dawn?? Did you have different ideas of a charlastor fanchild before her?

sjlsdkfj thank you so much!!! ;A;

And I think I should give some insight about some of the meta context for Dawn to anyone who wasn't there for it before we go in-depth with my design choices lmfao

I received an ask about what I think a charlastor fankid would look like back in march and was basically all "yeahhh nooo I don't care about fankids so it's unlikely I'll dabble in that concept, at least I don't currently have plans for it" and it's true! I genuinely don't normally enjoy fankid stories (I have severe tokophobia and too many of these types of stories include pregnancy as a thoroughly explored topic)

However...

I ended up intrigued by the idea of the challenge that combining two characters into a completely new character presented anyways, so I ended up trying my hand at designing one after all.

This meant that when I sat down to design her, I had genuinely no prior ideas, since I didn't really think about the concept before!

I have however seen other people's fankids floating around in the past, so I had a bit of an idea of what other people designed theirs like.

And this is by no means an insult to any of them and their lovely work, but I just didn't really vibe with a lot of them, since many just kind of amount to looking like recolors of one or the other character with maybe bonus deer ears and antlers - and that works fine!!! It's a very servicable strategy!!! I just personally wanted to not fall into that same vein with my design since I personally don't vibe with that approach much, so I actually tried really hard to make Dawn look like her own character while also giving her a balanced mix of visual cues from both of her parents :'D

in-depth elaboration on my design choices under the cut! ⬇️

I for example looked at Alastor's and Charlie's ears (at least how I draw them in my art) and thus gave her ears that looked like a mix between both - more animalistic, like Alastor's, with similar coloring (except inverted), but placed on her head more like Charlie's. I also wanted it to vaguely look like goat ears when at a resting/lower position like this and more like deer ears when perked up.

Her hair is also cross between both - colors are from both, the fringe is a mix of both (in shape and how it sits on her head and around her face more like Alastor, in terms of texture and length more like Charlie).

She has a lot of Alastor's facial features in her, though her chin is a bit more rounded, her nose smaller and her mouth a bit more like Charlie's as well.

Even her colors are a more or less even combination of both characters! Here's my color palettes for all three of them and which colors I doubled from who:

I should also note that I had her adult design down first before I even started drawing her as a kid, though I think that actually added a lot to making her feel more realistic surprisingly enough?

Since I already had her key features down, that left me with a lot of room to toy around with other design aspects, and somehow kid-ifying an adult character is much more intuitive to me than designing an adult version of a kid character :o

I don't have a linear timeline order or something to any of my posts about her, but from left to right in this array of drawings I've made of her as a child her age ranges from a few months old to like? 8-9-ish?

There's no fixed outfit for her as a kid, though her adult design does feature one more specific outfit:

I wanted her clothes to reflect that she looks up to her parents quite a lot, so I gave her somewhat old fashioned looking pinstriped dress pants - the colors are taken from Alastor's pants, though inverted with added pinstripes for flavor - and once I sketched out the pockets I knew I wanted them to faintly remind of the inside of an apple, so I added white and yellow to it :D

Her blouse is meant to be a bit more flowy - less restricting than Charlie's blazer, but equally elegant.

And because her design is already red-heavy enough, I balanced it out with making the shirt dark, the shoes black/white and the bow around her neck yellow!

I think that's about everything I can say about my thought process behind her design haha

Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about it, I hope it wasn't too rambly!!! If you read through the whole thing you get a cookie lmao

[stevesworld96]

look at me now (part one)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve. 

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, typical king steve meanness, yes there is an allusion to steve being icarus, kissing, fighting and making up, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, reader has an aunt, mentions of death and injuries, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part two!!!

word count: 14878

-

You knew Steve Harrington better than you knew anybody. At least, you liked to think so. 

You were five when you moved to Hawkins into the house right next door to Steve’s, and as things go when you’re a kid, that automatically made you best friends. At that age you didn’t have to try to be friends with somebody - as long as they lived nearby and had a bike, that sealed the deal. 

He was only knee high to his mother, hiding behind her legs when she brought him over to introduce themselves. “We’re the Harrington's,” she said, then with a tight laugh, “minus one - my husband. This is our son. Steve - say hi, Stevie.” 

He didn’t. Your mothers started a polite conversation and your eyes darted between the tall woman and her son. She was dressed like she had somewhere important to be, with red lipstick painted on her lips and pearls hung around her neck. She was pretty. 

Her son didn’t stand with the same pride she had - he was peeking at you, tugging the hem of his mother’s dress and looking down at his feet. You could hardly get a good look at him, and he didn’t even wave back at you. His haircut was prim and proper; the button up shirt he wore was swallowing him.

They came inside for lemonade, and you led Steve into your living room, and by the end of the hour you had instantly become friends, bonding over your toy car collection that Steve loved. 

You were kids - of course things were so easy. 

To see him, all you had to do was walk over to his front door and knock, and you could spend as much time together as you wanted. Or just wait until his parents needed a babysitter - after they learned how much you and Steve loved spending time together, they started to drop him off at your house and you’d have sleepovers for days. 

It was when Mr. Harrington had gotten a big promotion that they’d leave Steve with your family nearly once a week. 

“I’m sorry, Stevie, I know me and Dad haven’t been home much lately. But next month isn’t as busy for us,” his mom would tell him. 

“It’s okay, Mom,” he’d reply. “Don’t worry, I like staying here, so I’m alright.” 

At your age you didn’t see the irony in a seven year old telling his mother that things were okay - shouldn’t it be the other way around? - but those apologies from his mother wouldn’t last very long. And the promises she always made were never kept. Soon enough, she stopped making them altogether. 

Sometimes he’d just show up at your door, and your parents didn’t have to ask questions because they already knew more than you did, and you didn’t understand that he was more comfortable in your bedroom than in his own. 

The routine of your friendship felt like the foundation of your life. Everything you did was with Steve by your side, like you were tied together with an invisible string that couldn’t be broken. Snacks after school were a must; movie nights every other weekend were your safe haven. The last day of school every year you camped out in his backyard under the stars and then woke up early for a big breakfast and a day spent at the arcade. Even as you got older, those things stayed the same. 

You had busier schedules to work around in high school but you still made it work. After-school lunch turned into midnight snacks, and you moved from the arcade to the lake, but you were still intertwined with child-like joy and ease. 

Steve’s other friends were another story. Tommy H was a thorn in your side that you couldn’t pick out, but Steve didn’t get why you hated him so much. At first, you didn’t get it either - you just did.  

Until one day early in your junior year, Tommy H gave you a good enough reason for your disposition. 

Like always, Steve was waiting for you outside of your last class of the day, and you were just about to turn the corner when you heard Tommy’s loud, boisterous, annoying voice. 

“Steve, my boy, what’cha standing around here for?” 

Steve laughed, even though Tommy had said nothing funny. 

“Waiting on your favorite girl so I can get outta here - what’s up, dude?” 

“Come on,” Tommy said, dragging the words out. “We got shit to do, ditch her and let’s get a roll on, if you catch my drift.” 

You could see his stupid face in your head as he spoke - you just wanted him to go away so you could leave. But you’d wait there forever if it meant you didn’t have to have a conversation with him. 

You were hardly paying any mind to their words. 

“Can’t, dude, I’m her ride home. Tomorrow though, for sure.” 

“She’s holding you back, man.” 

But that caught your attention. They were both laughing even though, again, no one had said anything funny. 

“Y’think so?” 

“She even put out?” 

Your eyes rolled so far back to your head they could’ve gotten stuck. 

“It’s not like that with her.” 

“Oh, that’s not what Kimmy thinks.” 

“What? What do you mean - did she say something?” 

You knew Kimmy to be the new flavor of the week, Steve’s new eye candy. It’d be someone new in a matter of days - and this was one brand new trait of his you were struggling to overlook. 

“Just saying, most of the chicks think you’re taken by Miss Bitch -” 

You call Tommy H a dickhead to his face one time and he gives you a nickname that sticks for three years. 

“- and that’s why you’re not getting any action, dude. Gotta shake off the fleas, man.” 

And then Steve laughed. Loud.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to do. You hoped he would defend you even a little bit, but he didn’t. He just laughed, and said, “I’ll think about it, man,” as if he was in on this joke, and then Tommy left. 

And you didn’t know how you felt. 

It’s not like Steve said it. But he had no problem listening to Tommy H talk about you that way. He thought it was funny. 

Or, he was just saving face - did that make a difference?

You knew Tommy’s words were complete bullshit, and you didn’t care about him enough to let it affect you. Maybe Steve felt the same - maybe he just went along with it because it was easier. 

You hoped so, because that’s what you chose to do. You brushed it off and walked out of the room and acted as if nothing happened. 

“Hey - about time.” 

You didn’t reply; he continued talking as you walked together. 

“You hungry?” 

“Thought you were coming over,” you said. “Told you I wanted to build a blanket fort. Remember?” 

He huffed out a scoff, “A blanket fort? Are you six?” The glare you gave him made him reel his judgment back in. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

…

As soon as basketball season was over and you had your weekends back to yourself, you were ready to get through your watch list of movies as quickly as possible. You’d never tell Steve that cheering for him at his games was your least favorite part of your friendship with him - you would always keep that selfishness to yourself. 

And if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own mind, lost in planning your movie night, you may have been able to see your next conversation with Steve coming. 

“There she is, been lookin’ all over for you.” 

A heavy arm slung around your shoulders as you walked down the school hall. You didn’t have to question who it was. 

“What do you want, Steve?” 

“Just want to see my best friend in the whole world, is there something wrong with that?” 

You rolled your eyes. Obviously he’s up to something. 

“I’m going to choose to ignore you,” you said, shaking off his arm and stopping at your locker. His back fell into the metal next to you. 

“What’s up?” he asked, and he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, but you ignored it. 

“Nothing. Oh, I think I finally have a cookie recipe we’ll like. Mrs. Jenkins gave it to me but she made me swear I wouldn’t share her secrets. Gonna pick up the stuff after school - have you picked your movie yet?” 

Then his eyes widened, a bit too much to look genuine. “Oh, shit, is that tonight?” 

“It’s Friday, isn’t it?” 

“I completely forgot about that, shit. I made other plans without thinking.” 

“Well, cancel them,” you said with a straight face. 

“Well… what if you join in on my plans instead?” 

You closed your locker and didn’t even consider entertaining Steve’s idea. “My mom’s already planning to make dinner for you. Are you ready to face her wrath?” 

“Well - no,” he said. “It’s just - y’know, I was supposed to see Nancy tonight, and…” 

“Oh, I get it, you wanna cancel so you can get laid. Is that it?” 

“No, Christ - I’ll be there, alright? But next time, I’m getting my way.” 

 You laughed at him, and the bell rang and ended your conversation. 

You didn’t think the night would go any differently than your normal hangouts. Maybe if you were expecting it, the disappointment wouldn’t have stung so bad. 

He called you early. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey -”

“Hey, have you picked up the movies yet? I forgot to get popcorn, so…” 

“No, I haven’t. Listen, um…” There was static on the line for a moment before he continued. “Sorry, but - can we - are you sure we can’t reschedule? Like, tomorrow night?” 

You groaned, you were annoyed. But even when he argued with you, Steve never ditched your valued traditions - he may act bothered sometimes, but he would always come around. Even if he did gripe about it being childish the entire time.  

That’s what you thought this would be. 

“No, Steve, I have book club and tutoring and dinner with my aunt tomorrow. You know this.” 

“Right. I guess I forgot about that. Okay, well…” 

“...Well?” 

Once again, he was quiet, and you weren’t sure if he was hesitating because he didn’t know what to say, or because he was nervous. 

“Well - I think it’d be really fun if we hung out at my place tonight!” 

“I guess I can bring all the ingredients for the cookies over. You do have a nicer oven…” you said.

“No, like, you can come over with everyone else I invited and we could -” 

“I thought you canceled that?” 

“I was going to, but… Tommy wouldn’t take no for an answer! And we already got the booze, and Nance finally said yes and - and I’d be really happy if you were here too!” 

“...Okay.”

“Okay…?”

You thought for a moment, then decided to ask him the question you were asking yourself. 

“Would you be happy if I was there, or would you be happy if I’m not mad at you for canceling?” 

“Uh - either one.” 

“Right.” 

That answer was good enough for you, even though it wasn’t the one you wanted. You weren’t getting anything you wanted that night, and you weren’t going to fight for it with someone who already had their mind made up. 

“Then have fun,” you said. 

“Really? We can cancel?” 

The excitement in his voice caused an angry laugh. “Yeah. Bye.” And you hung up. 

And you made your cookies, and you watched the movies you already had on tape, and you didn’t miss the popcorn but you wished you had Steve’s lap to put your feet on - and it was fine. 

You were sure he was having fun. And maybe he didn’t care at all about your canceled plans - because he was too busy with people who didn’t like you, doing something more exciting than what the two of you did as kids. 

It was selfish to be angry. Maybe it was wrong. But you let it boil over anyway. 

… 

You didn’t talk to him for a week after that. Because you didn’t want to, and you wanted to teach him a lesson, and you hoped it would make him sorry. 

Maybe you were being immature, but at this point, you were committed. 

You were afraid that you were setting the wrong example - that, maybe, he thought you were angry about him making his own plans, when the problem was how he’d canceled yours so last minute. Or perhaps it was both. But now you had dragged it out too long and you were stuck giving Steve the cold shoulder until he finally caved in and apologized. 

That’s all you wanted, really: an apology. And a bribe or two, just to get the most out of this argument. That’s how things usually went: you give him the silent treatment and he shows up at your door with your favorite snacks and a new book, and things would go back to normal. 

But not this time. 

You’d managed to bike to school without being caught by Steve all week, but you’d underestimated him waiting for you at the bike racks at the end of the day on Thursday. 

He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn together. The moment you saw him you stopped in your tracks, like if you stayed still he wouldn’t see you, but his gaze was locked on. It didn’t look kind. 

So you prepared yourself for this fight. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, but his tone said something different - it said, I’m sick of your shit. 

“What are you doing?” 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep dragging this out.” 

You kept darting around his words and moved to get your bike as if he’d let you leave so easily. “I’m not dragging anything out. Don’t know what you mean.” 

His arms flung out to his sides as his voice raised, “You’re acting like a fucking kid!”

And your volume matched his, “You hurt my feelings!” 

“Well - grow up!” 

The short silence that followed felt heavy, but he didn’t let it sit for long. 

“I mean - come on - I ditch you one time and all of a sudden we’re not friends anymore? Really?” 

“A sorry would be nice, Steve.” 

“I’ve said sorry.” Both of you knew that he hadn’t, but it didn’t matter now. “But sorry isn’t enough, is it? You’re just mad that I have new friends. Because I don’t want to just - sit around and fucking - watch movies in your living room like we’re kids -” 

“Like we’re kids,” you said, laughing. “Yeah - right, because that’s really what this is about, isn’t it, Steve?” 

He looked confused, and you didn’t give him the chance to speak. 

“Because I’m holding you back. Right? Tommy H said it so it must be true. I’m a bitch and I’m keeping you down and you need to shake me off if you ever want to get any action - that’s what it is. Just say it, Steve.” 

“Where is this coming from?” He ran a hand through his hair and his voice sounded desperate, but you weren’t sure what for. Maybe to salvage the remnants of a wounded friendship, to turn this conversation around. But your anger wouldn’t let him. 

“You know where it’s coming from. I heard it, Steve, and you - you agreed with him! I’m your best friend but you can’t even defend me to your shitty fucking friends - so just say it! You’re the one who doesn’t want me around -” 

“That’s not what happened -” 

You were so angry, and he was lying, and Steve never lied to you, and he’d filled you with so much venom that you couldn’t help spitting it out as you stepped closer to him. “It is. And you’re turning it on me when you’re the shitty friend. Stop lying to me and just say it.” 

“Yeah, maybe that is what it is - and I was just too fucking stupid to see it before now. That you’re so fucking clingy I can’t even have one night with a girl without you getting jealous. He was right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Yeah, it was,” and you pulled your bike free and your foot hit the kickstand so hard that it hurt, and you told yourself the pain was the reason tears were flooding your eyes. 

“Maybe I’m better off without you - have you ever thought about that? Is that your fucking problem?”

“Whatever! I don’t care anymore! You never have to watch another fucking movie with me again, alright? We won’t go to the arcade or build stupid fucking blanket forts or any of the other childish shit you hate so much!”

“Good - fucking - good!” 

“And I hope you have fun playing King, and I hope when all your friends turn on you and Nancy dumps your ass - because you’re an asshole - that I’m the last person you run to for help, and I hope your dad is real fucking proud of you, because you’re turning out to be just fucking like him.” 

It all fell out like you were pushing rocks off of a cliff - fast and angry and hard. You knew what those words would do to him. You knew you were hurting his feelings more than he had ever hurt yours - that you were putting the knife in too deep to pull out. You knew and you said it anyway, because you were mad and he was being a dick and lashing out felt good. Especially when you could hop on your bike and ride away from him, fast enough to avoid watching the blood pooling at his feet. 

The worst part is that you were being honest. 

Steve stood there alone and didn’t even turn to watch you ride away. He felt like hitting something, or screaming until his lungs were empty and tired. 

And he didn’t even have time for any of this. He was finally making decisions for himself, for once, and who were you to get mad at him for that? He was popular, he had a girlfriend who was actually into him, his parents had finally gotten off his back. Things were going fantastic for him and he wasn’t going to let you mess it up because you were… jealous, or selfish, or whatever it was - Steve didn’t care. 

He wasn’t going to lose sleep over you refusing to grow up and give him space. He was on top of the world, and you were trying to tear him down. 

He didn’t need you, anyway. 

… 

Months passed.

And, like you had put a hex on him, all of your words came true - and then some. It didn’t take very long for things to crumble around him, and Steve almost thought it was funny how quickly his wings had melted to send him hurling into the ground. 

No matter how hard he tried patching the holes, everyone knows you can’t fly with wings made of wax.

The fall hurt. But it was what came after that brought the real pain - a stinging, striking ache that was impossible to ignore. It felt like he was the last person on earth and he deserved it; like he shouldn’t be allowed to be around other people because he was no good.

And every time he tried putting the pieces back together, things only got more broken - all starting at Jonathan Byers’ front door. 

What could get worse than fighting a monster from an alternate dimension? 

Or fucking things up with your girlfriend beyond repair? 

Or fighting those monsters again? 

He learned quickly to stop asking stupid questions like those. 

And he learned that he couldn’t just close his eyes and wish it away. He couldn’t run when things got scary; he couldn’t lash out when someone was honest with him; he couldn’t sneak out of his window and into yours when the yelling got too loud. He was forced to face everything he ever hid from, cursed to have regrets and keep them. 

At least he wasn’t completely alone - the company of nerdy kid genius Dustin Henderson brought most of these lessons on. And in a normal situation Steve wouldn’t recommend learning anything from a kid in junior high, but he was living anything but a normal life. He’d take friends wherever he could get them, especially during senior year. 

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for the kids that suddenly came into his life. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father - that he could do good things without getting something out of it. Or maybe, most likely, he just did it. 

He wanted to feel like a superhero, wanted to look in the mirror and feel proud of what stared back at him. But he didn’t, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave or heroic or gallant - he was no Clark Kent. And everything he did was because he had to. Because who else would? 

Sometimes he felt like only someone as careless as him would fight a man-eating creature with nothing but a baseball bat - because out of everyone he knew, he had the least to lose. Why bother making safe decisions when most days he didn’t even want to get out of bed? What was he risking when he’d already bet it all and lost? 

And who would be proud of that?

But there were moments, in the time between the fall and the fight, that he could almost see it. Like a flicker of light passing by he’d see Max smiling at him, hear Dustin’s excited laughter, feel a heavy high five from Lucas and he’d think - oh. Right there, standing in front of him, were the people he had to lose. The ones he was trying to win for. 

And then he’d lay in bed at night and get stuck in another sleepless round of self loathing; hatred fueled by every cruel word he’d spit and all the selfish acts he’d taken, and fuck, he was spinning and suffocating and screaming, and maybe he deserved this. 

It didn’t matter that he knew how to swing a fucking bat good enough to win more time for the ones he loved, because he wouldn’t love them right, anyway. And he’d turned the best person he’d ever known into nothing more than a crumpled piece of paper on his floor - something to be tossed aside and forgotten. And even if he tried smoothing it out, those creases would always be there. 

Sometimes he stared out his window and watched yours. Waited for your light to turn off so he could look away and stop wondering what you were doing and how your life was without him in it. 

All he wanted was to see you again. He’d beg for that movie night he ditched on junior year. He wanted to grab you by your shoulders and show you that he’s better now, he’s changed, those last words you told him weren’t applicable anymore and everything can just go back to how it was. 

But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

He was glad when graduation finally came around, until he was forced into a sailor’s uniform with an ice cream scoop on his belt like a gun in a holster. 

It was one way to spend the summer. It got him out of the house he hated staying in, and put a little money in his pocket, so slinging ice cream at Scoop’s Ahoy was good enough for him. 

It distracted him from the vague nightmares he kept having and the fact that he got into a total of zero universities, and the free ice cream counted as dinner on his bad days. And he was fine with his obnoxious co-worker and annoying customers. 

He was just fine. 

But it was Hawkins. Nothing could stay fine there - not after a little girl with super powers opened a portal to an alternate fucking dimension and turned the town into a magnet for every fucked up thing imaginable. 

Steve thought it was over, and then Dustin had him and Robin translating the Russian words he heard over his radio, and they were all pulled back in. 

He wasn’t expecting to fall into the Russian lair under Starcourt Mall, to trauma bond with Robin - of all people - or to get any closer to dying than he already had, but he stopped betting on his expectations a long time ago. 

By the time he saw the night sky again, he couldn’t remember how many punches he’d been thrown.

His head throbbed to the beat of his heart. It felt like if he tapped his temple, his eye would pop right out. His work uniform was ruined, stained with blood and spit, but the smoke billowing from Starcourt ensured that he wouldn't be needing it anymore. 

The events of the night felt like they were years away. All he remembered was running, screaming, crying; he remembered the fist coming toward his face but not the impact. He woke up to pain, and then it was gone - more running and bleeding and fighting and then, it was over. 

Robin sat next to him, shivering, on the back of an ambulance. The lights from the siren were blinding, the noise around him was punching his ear drums. 

“Are we alive?” Robin asked. Her voice was totally shot. 

“Think so.” 

“I want to lay down so bad.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you have someone to call?” 

She sighed deep. “Not really.” She let it be quiet for only a second, then said, “I don’t really want to go home. To be honest.” 

“You wanna spend the night here?” 

“If I don’t have to be alone, then, yeah.” 

He sighed, too, then patted her knee. 

He said, “I’ll call someone, alright?” and she nodded. 

The payphone was a bit of a walk, and he had to wait behind two people in line, but it was enough time for him to muster up the courage to make the call. Even still, when he had the phone in his hand, all he could do was stare at it. 

He was trying to remember the exact words you said to him the last time he spoke to you. Something like, “I hope I’m the last one you call,” he was sure. It was hard to remember your phrasing now, but the memory still stung all the same. 

And he knows it’s not fair to call you, but he was going to anyway. Because in all honesty, you were the only option he had. 

Any other time, he’d rely on Hopper for a ride. But Hopper wasn’t around anymore. 

So he dialed your number and prayed you hadn’t changed it from the one he knew by heart. 

-

Your hand darted out of your blanket to reach your bedside telephone. The ringing killed your half asleep ears, and you hardly knew what you were doing when you put the receiver to your ear. 

“Hello?” 

You could barely get the word out; your voice was thick with sleep that was slowly creeping over you. 

“Hey. It’s Steve.” 

With your heavy eyes shut, sleep was pulling you back in. Your whole body jumped a little bit when you attempted to stay awake. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry for waking you up, but -” 

You didn’t know what was going on, and then you heard sirens on the phone. A jolt of anxiety seared through you at the sound. That’s what got you to wake up - then you realized who you were talking to. 

“Steve?”

“...Yeah.” 

“What - what’s wrong?” 

Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you sat up in bed, holding yourself up with one shaky arm. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you held your breath until he answered your question. “There was an, uh - accident at Starcourt, and - I don’t know who else to call. I’m sorry, I can’t drive right now and I don’t have anybody else.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Barely.”

You didn’t give your answer a second thought. “I’ll be there in, like, five minutes, okay?” 

You could hear his breath of relief over the phone. “Okay. Thank you.” 

After stealing your mother’s car keys, you stuffed your bare feet into combat boots and ran to the car. Even though you still only had your learners permit, you absolutely floored it to the mall without a single thought in your mind. It was like you were on autopilot, simply doing what you were supposed to, because you were scared. 

You saw plumes of smoke before Starcourt ever came into view, and you swallowed through your dry throat because you knew something bad happened. 

You had to fight through crowds and cops before you were allowed to pass under the police tape to search for Steve, which wasn’t easy. Every face you saw wasn’t his and each second that passed dug a deeper pit in your stomach. 

The second-to-last ambulance in the lineup is where you found him, sitting next to a girl whose head was on his shoulder. 

And when you saw him… it wasn’t him. Your eyes glazed over him because he was hardly recognizable. 

You’d seen him beat up before. He’s had his fair share of fights at school; you wiped blood off his face and helped him nurse black eyes. But it was never like this. 

His left eye was swollen shut. Crimson stained from his eyebrow to his jawline. His skin was aggravated red, his clothes were blood rusted, his knuckles were ripped open. 

And still, somehow, his hair looked perfectly done. That sight alone made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, because of course he managed to keep its style untouched. It was so Steve. 

You ran to him; your legs carried you there on their own, shoelaces smacking against wet pavement. You weren’t thinking when you called out his name or when you flung your arms around his neck. You hugged him like it would heal him, like the scent of your perfume could cover the smoke he smelled of. 

It’d been almost a year since you’d talked to him, and the jagged edges of your ended friendship still cut deep, but you didn’t care. Not when he looked the way he did; not when he was hugging you so tight; not when your tears were dripping onto his skin. 

You pulled back and looked at him, and his wounds didn’t look any better up close. 

“Oh my god, Steve, are you okay? What the hell happened?” 

“I’m alright,” he said. He wouldn’t look at you, or couldn’t bring himself to. “I’m just glad you came. I’m sorry -” 

“Don’t,” you said, and then you looked around at the scene. “Have the paramedics even seen you? Why are you just sitting here?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I - I’m fine. They said I’m fine. They’re all busy with others but - I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

That’s when you noticed the girl next to him, who was looking at you like you were crazy, and you realized what you were potentially barging in on. 

They sat close - too close to be friendly. They were basically cuddling when you first saw them. It was obvious what they were, so of course she was looking at you that way.  

You didn’t mean to make her jealous, but a part of you didn’t care. 

“Are both of you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, answering for the two of them.  The girl nodded. “This is Robin, by the way.” 

You introduced yourself to her, trying to be cordial even though you were meeting in the worst of situations. 

“You two can stay at my place tonight, if you want to,” you told them. Steve asked Robin if she was okay with that, and she said yes, and so you led them to your car. 

You weren’t sure why you made the offer to Steve - you wanted him with you, sure. After seeing the condition he was in, you wouldn’t sleep unless you knew you were keeping him safe and sound in your own bedroom. 

Old habits die hard.

But, all things considered, you should have just taken him to his own home, where he could be with Robin in peace. Without cut ties lingering in the air like flies. 

You drove him home anyway. 

Nobody spoke until you got to your bedroom. 

“Do you need a shower?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said. Robin nodded. 

“Okay. Robin, you can take my bathroom. Steve can shower downstairs.” 

You dug through bottom drawers to find clothes for each of them - you still had the ones Steve kept stored there, as embarrassing as it was, so it wasn’t a difficult task. And you’d let Robin choose from your pajama drawer.

And then you got back into bed, because you didn’t know what else to do for them. 

Robin stood in the doorway of your bathroom, just staring into the room. When Steve opened your bedroom door, she snapped her head back to him. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

She glanced over at you. You wanted to hide from the tension in the room. 

“I - I don’t know how to use this faucet.” 

He showed her how, and then made for the exit, but she called for him again. 

“I was just thinking - you know - if we both shower at the same time, won’t the water pressure be super low? And what if the hot water runs out before I’m done, and -” 

“I’ll be quick, Robs,” he said. “It’ll be fine.” 

Steve took one step into the hallway before stopping. The darkness looked like it went on forever. He didn’t remember your house being so unlit, or having so many hiding places, and suddenly his legs were shaky. 

“...You’re probably right, though. I’ll just wait out here until you’re done.” 

“Yeah. And I’ll keep the door cracked open, for… all the steam.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

And he sat on the floor right outside of the bathroom door. When Robin was finished, they swapped places. As if they couldn’t be apart for longer than twenty minutes. 

You didn’t ask them any questions.

… 

The two of them slept on a pallet of old blankets on your bedroom floor. Robin made Steve sleep closest to the door. He tried not to be upset about it. 

And he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, but it seemed to swallow him. He didn’t dream, or toss and turn, but he woke up unrested. 

Everything still hurt just as bad as it did the night before. And Robin’s snoring was making his headache worse. 

You were no longer in bed, so he decided to get up and find you. 

He wasn’t sure what kind of interaction he’d be walking into when he found you in the kitchen, but he tried to keep his head high. 

“Good morning,” he said. 

“Hey.” You had a mug in your hand. “Your eye looks better.” 

“It doesn’t feel any better,” he said, and he wanted to make a joke that it actually looks worse - because when he closes his right eye, everything’s blurry - but he held that one in. He wasn’t ready for a comedic coping mechanism quite yet. 

You put Tylenol on the island that separated the two of you. “Take them. I don’t know if it’ll help much, but it can’t hurt.” 

The bottle said to take two, so he took three. And then the awkward quiet started washing in. 

Until, “I saw what happened on the news,” and Steve almost coughed up the water he was chugging. 

“What are they saying?” he asked, because he didn’t know what story he was supposed to be playing along with. 

“Just talking about the fire,” you said. Your voice sounded so dim, and Steve hated it. “It’s… crazy. Hopper… he…” You couldn’t say the word. 

“I know,” Steve said. 

“And thirty others.” 

His throat felt dry. “Thirty?” 

Truly, he didn’t know that many people hadn’t survived. And now, it all felt real. Really real. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m just glad - you were lucky to get out, Steve.” 

You had no clue how lucky he’d really been. And hopefully you would never have to know. 

“I know.” 

You sat your mug down, brushed your hands on your chest like you were trying to wipe off everything you knew of the accident, then blew out a loud breath. 

“Let’s just think about something else.” 

Almost at the same time as you, he spoke. “Thank you.” 

“...What for?” 

“For coming to my rescue,” he said, huffing a laugh. “I know that I… didn’t really deserve it.” 

“Don’t thank me, Steve.” 

“Seriously. You could’ve just told me to walk home, but you didn’t.” 

“I’m just being a good friend,” you said, then shrugged. “I hope you would do it for me.” 

“In a heartbeat.” 

He wondered if this was his chance to say sorry. 

Or if there was even a point in it. 

He was afraid you’d do no more than laugh in his face, and even if he deserved it he didn’t want to succumb to it. 

But he had to. Because he almost died last night. And he could be fighting those monsters again, any day now. Was he going to lose this chance? Or is he going to die without saying another word to you? 

He stared down at his ripped knuckles. The wounds still looked fresh. They stung just from touching the open air. 

He stared, and stared, and stared, and - he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say a word. He couldn’t face it. 

Your footsteps toward him made him jump back. 

You were holding a box of band-aids. 

You held out your hand, asking for his without words, and he offered both of them to you. First his right, then his left, were covered in pink, green, and yellow band-aids by you. 

It was gentle and kind, the way you went about it. Like you would hurt him even more if you weren’t careful. 

He still had dried blood under his nails and splinters in his palms. He watched your clean hands holding his beaten up ones and he felt bad, because your skin was too soft to bother with the cuts and calluses on his. 

But you held them anyway. 

He put his fingers through yours and you didn’t stop him. He wanted to cry.

“I’m just glad you're alright.” 

He didn’t know what to say - there wasn’t anything to say, he guessed. Nothing to make it better or change anything. 

All he could do was squeeze your hand and watch you wipe tears off your cheeks. 

Until he noticed a cut on the back of your hand. He pulled it closer so he could get a better look. 

“What happened?” 

“I dropped a knife while I was cooking last night. It’s fine.” 

It looked fine, but Steve wanted to repay your favor, so he pulled a band-aid from the near empty box and put it on your wound. 

“We match,” he said. 

You laughed. “We’re even now.” 

He felt overwhelmed with melancholy. He needed to rest, he wanted to close his eyes and not open them for weeks. 

“I should go check on Robin,” he said as he walked backwards toward the stairs. He kept his eyes to the ground, away from the look on your face. “She’ll flip if she wakes up and she’s alone.” 

You said nothing. 

… 

The following days and weeks were a lot of checking on Robin, and Robin checking on him. Too much waking up in the middle of the night and keeping his eyes glued to his bedroom door just in case. Only feeling safe enough if he had a baseball bat hugged to his chest and Robin snoring next to him. 

So - he wasn’t doing well, but it was fine. He tried not to complain about it. Robin was the only person he let himself be half honest with - but he kept the truth to himself, because she’d get anxious if he said what he really felt. 

Steve was scared. And he didn’t want anyone else to know it, because all of the others acted as if their lives were perfectly back to normal. They were doing well. So he had to be doing well, too. For their sake. 

Weeks after that awful night at the mall, he and Robin conned their way into getting jobs at Family Video. He was grateful, because god, he was too codependent on her. 

It was a random night at his place when Robin brought you up out of nowhere. 

“I just realized, I never thanked your neighbor for saving us that night.” 

“You don’t need to. I’m sure she knows you’re thankful.” 

“Yeah, but, I feel like I should pay her back.” 

Steve shrugged at her words. He didn’t want to think about you more than he had to - it hurt just a little bit too much. 

“Should I give her a gift?” 

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She likes cookies. Get her cookies.” 

And Steve didn’t know it, but the next day, Robin rang your doorbell with a plastic box of cookies in her hands. You opened the door and she started rambling from the get. 

“Hey - Steve said you like cookies, so, I decided I’d bring you some to thank you. For showing up at Starcourt in the middle of the night and practically saving our lives. And for letting us sleep on your floor. That was really nice of you.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Robin seemed weird. You just went along with it. 

“Oh - thanks. That’s cool. Thanks.” 

She shoved them toward you, and you took them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she just stepped through the door. You brought her to the kitchen. 

“I hope they’re good. I just got them at the corner store. But all cookies are the same, right?” 

“Well - no, but, it’s the thought that counts.” 

“Oh.” 

The gifted cookies didn’t look much better than the worst recipes you’d made,  but you opened the crude packaging and gave them a chance. 

They were fine. Maybe a little worse than fine. You gave Robin one, anyway. 

“They’re good!” she said, with a mouth full. 

“They are,” you lied. “They’re not homemade, but they’ll do. Thanks, Robin.” 

You ate half of your cookie. Robin finished hers. It was quiet. 

You figured you might as well try to get to know this girl a bit better. At least be polite and make small talk, just to be nice. 

So you asked an easy question. “How long have you and Steve been together?” 

But it wasn’t as simple as you thought, because she started coughing up the cookie. “What do you mean?” 

“...What?” 

“We’re not together,” she said with a heavy dose of sass. “God, I’ll never get over people asking me that. I am not dating Steve Harrington. Gross.” 

“Oh - sorry, I just thought -” 

“It’s fine,” she said. “Everyone always asks. I guess a guy and a girl can’t be friends without everyone making assumptions.” 

You laughed. “Yeah. People used to do the same thing to us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask a weird question.” 

“It’s alright. Actually, I’m supposed to be at his place in, like - well, ten minutes ago. You should come over if you're free.” 

“Uh - I don’t know, me and Steve - we don’t really hang out anymore.” 

You aren’t sure why you didn’t just make up an excuse. Something about Robin made you feel okay about being honest. 

“It’s cool. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. It’s kind of been just us since what happened with - the fire. The fire that happened. So - you know. It’d be nice to have someone else around. If you want.” 

You were curious how this would turn out. So, “sure. I’ll come.” 

“Great. You should bring a cookie for Steve.” 

You brought the whole box, and decided you would accidentally forget them at his place so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Steve’s front door was yanked open from the inside before Robin could let herself in, and his wide eyes became a little less wide when he saw her. 

“Where the fuck were you - you were supposed to be here half an hour ago, I thought you got fucking eaten or something.” 

“Relax. I was just making a cookie delivery next door. Chill.” 

Robin threw her thumb over her shoulder. You poked your head out from behind her and gave Steve a weak wave.

“Oh.” 

“What exactly would she get eaten by?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. You noticed he was gripping his car keys in a tight, scarred fist. 

“Monsters,” Robin joked. Steve didn’t laugh. You did a little bit. “I invited her over. Is that alright?” 

“Yeah. Of course.” 

You stuck to Robin all the way to his living room, because that was easier than making yourself comfortable. You hadn’t been in this house in ages, and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. 

“Where’s my crossword?” 

“I finished it.” 

“Asshole. You know I hate that. Just get your own.” 

“Whatever, you suck at them, anyway.” 

Robin, unlike you, had no reservations in the Harrington house. She kicked her feet up and started channel surfing as soon as she sat on the couch. 

“Have a cookie,” Robin said to Steve. You reached the box out to him; he sat down next to you to take one, taking up the spot between you and Robin.  

It was weird being so close to him again. His knee was touching yours, and it made your skin feel too hot. Still, you didn’t move away. 

“These are shit,” he said with a full mouth. 

“Hey!” 

You laughed loud, because you completely agreed. 

“No, seriously, these are awful.” 

“I spent five dollars on those!” 

You gasped. “Five? Robin.” 

“You should have just given her the money instead. Or thrown it in the trash.” Steve dropped his half eaten cookie back in the box. You put the plastic lid back on and sat it on the coffee table. 

“I thought they were good. You’re being so rude right now. They were a gift.” 

Steve looked at you. “You didn’t tell her how bad they are?” 

“I didn’t - I don’t think they’re that bad.” 

“You’re lying,” Steve laughed, then he turned to Robin. “She’s lying.” 

“I’m not lying!” 

“I know you, and I know you’re lying.” 

“It’s fine, guys, you don’t have to spare my feelings or anything.” 

You sighed, defeated. “...They are pretty terrible.” 

Robin scoffed loud and obnoxious. 

“Whatever. I’ll enjoy them.” 

… 

As it turns out, Robin acted like glue between you and Steve. Neither of you would have ever made an effort to see each other again, out of embarrassment or guilt or both, but Robin didn’t have to unpack any of that baggage. She didn’t even know it existed. 

Instead, she immediately saw you as a friend. And she brought you in like she had known you forever. 

But Robin and Steve were a package deal. So, if you were a friend to her, you had to be a friend to him, too.

And the two of them were weird. Most of the time, they left you feeling like a third wheel on their friendship. 

They could be mean to each other. Rough. They acted the exact way you knew siblings do, but that was only surface level. There was something deeper - more than anything a brother and sister had, because it wasn’t the blood in their veins that connected them. It was the roots they chose to grow into each other that kept them together. 

Robin spent the night with Steve more often than she didn’t. And she bullied him for his bad cooking, and he told her when an outfit was ugly, and they stood next to each other like two puzzle pieces that didn’t match but fit together with a hard press. 

Sometimes you sat on the sidelines and ached, mourning a friendship that had been buried some odd years ago. It was well beyond rotten - something decayed and unrecognizable now. Even if you dug it up, it couldn’t be the same as it was. 

But you wished. 

And as you sat and listened to Robin chastise Steve for saying something dumb - watched as he meddled her hair into a purposeful mess, you could only laugh and sink into yourself. You were happy and sad; you cherished your time together and dreaded it, all at the same time. 

Above it all, Steve was different. Distant in the way he would never meet your eyes, or laugh too loud at your jokes, or sit too close for too long. 

It all felt fleeting. Like that week you spent angry at him - stuck in a weird limbo, between friends and strangers, a frustrating purgatory. Some kind of Schrodinger’s Cat of a friendship - alive and dead at the same time. 

You would have just said something, if it felt like you could. But if Steve minded, he didn’t show it. If he missed how things were, he didn’t act like it. And, as you knew him, if he wanted to he would. 

And it wasn’t totally bad. It was just new. You’d get used to it with a spoonful of sugar and a hard swallow. 

On a random day, you had mentioned off-hand that you had been meaning to visit your aunt’s apartment to drop off and pick up a few things. Steve offered to take you, and you agreed, and the next day, you made good on your plans. 

The two of you didn’t hang out without Robin very often. Since early August, the number was hardly a handful. But with the radio turned on, it wasn’t too awkward. 

Steve had visited your aunt with you several times growing up. He went to her house-warming party when she moved into her apartment. You were thirteen, and you made a game of pressing every button in the elevator before getting off it. Now, every time you’re there, you think about how you used to chase him down the halls. 

Her place was the nicest there was in Hawkins, in the tallest residential building in town. Parking was a nightmare, but Steve kept his complaints under his breath, and he even carried your bag for you. 

The elevator was the only thing in the apartment’s lobby. As you pressed the button, Steve spoke up. 

“You wanna take the stairs instead?” 

“Why?” 

He shrugged. You laughed. 

“You want to climb eight flights of stairs? No thanks.” 

“I’m an athlete,” he mumbled under his breath, sheepish. “This thing is taking forever, anyways.” 

It dinged as it finally started moving down toward the bottom floor.

“It’s on its way.” 

He stepped back, looked around, and he must have spotted the stairwell. “I’ll race you,” and then he took off. 

The elevator door opened as the stairway’s door closed, and you rode to the top floor alone. 

He didn’t win the race - far from it, and you laughed as he tried to hide his struggling breathing. 

“Been waiting for you all day, athlete. Thought you’d take ‘til Christmas.” 

“Psh. Whatever. I’ll win on the way down.”

The elevator creaked and hummed as it started moving down, and Steve glared at it. 

You laughed, “You’re weird,” and you left him behind to walk down the hall. 

He worked fast to catch up, and called out, “The loser pays for dinner!” 

“You know I’d never pass up that bet.” 

Your aunt wasn’t home - she rarely was. But a key was under the mat, and as you walked inside her tuxedo cat, Webster, greeted you at the door. 

“Hey, dude,” Steve said, kneeling down to pet him. 

An old cardboard box sat on the dining table nearby, “Glassware” written on the side in crude permanent marker. It’s what you had been instructed to pick up and take back home - you weren’t sure what was inside.

You sat down and opened it and pulled out the first thing you saw: a white paper bag, one you knew printed photos came in. 

“This what you came for?” 

Steve stood next to you. He had Webster in his arms, who was purring loud and melting into his hand. 

“Yeah.” 

“What is it?” 

“I don’t know. Family stuff, I’m guessing.” You pulled out a fat stack of pictures and the one on top made you bark a laugh. “Oh my god.” 

You and Steve, seven years old, wearing matching cowboy costumes for Halloween - you with a white cowboy hat, him with a black one. You stood with a jack-o-lantern between you. You had your hands on your hips and a frown on your face; Steve had his chin pushed out in a wicked scowl. 

You turned it to him, and he laughed just as loud as you. “Look at those two mean mugs!” 

“Do you remember this?” 

He sat in the chair next to you, continuing to look at the photo over your shoulder. Webster made himself comfortable in his lap. 

“Yeah,” he laughed, “We fought all night because you stole my -”

“Oh my god.”

“You stole my full size Snickers.”

“I did not!” 

“You did.” 

“I didn’t!” 

The way he looked at you told you this was still a sore subject. 

“You went ahead of me to the Smith’s place while I was trying to tie my shoe and you took her last bar. That’s what happened!” 

“That’s not stealing!” 

“It is!”

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind! It’s not my fault you didn’t know how to tie your shoes!” 

“You didn’t, either. And, I learned before you.” 

You puffed a sigh and flipped the photo to the back of the stack. “Why are you still fighting over this? We shared all the candy, anyway.” 

“It’s the principle. Theft is a crime, and you never apologized.” 

You only laughed. No way were you giving him that apology now. 

When you pulled the photos out of the box, you didn’t intend on looking through them all, but your curiosity kept you flicking through them. Most were of random family members or photos of the beach, but pictures of you and Steve were littered throughout the stack. There wasn’t a single photo of you that didn’t have him in it, too.

There were from some first days of school, birthday parties, sleepovers. They were sorted somewhat chronologically - looking through them was pure nostalgia, memories hitting you at every angle as you watched yourself grow up. 

The next one to catch your eye was from a middle school dance. Neither of you wanted to attend, but your mother insisted. Your one condition was that you could wear whatever you wanted. 

So you and Steve had swapped styles. You wore his way oversized Atlanta Flames jersey, a baseball cap, and sneakers that didn’t fit; he had on your purple sweater, a big pearl necklace, and white jeans. 

It was cute, and it was goofy, and you wished you could jump into the picture and relive it. 

At that age, the only thing you knew was that you and Steve would live forever, together. Now that you know what you know, your heart ached for the little girl in these pictures. What would she think about the space between you two now? 

There were pictures from summer camp, swimming pools, and your first day of high school. 

Webster meowed. Steve meowed back at him. 

As you got to the bottom of the stack, pictures of the two of you were less and less. The last one - the one you didn’t know would be your last picture with him - was of you, him, and a few of your extended family members. A day spent at the lake that Steve really didn’t want to go to, for some reason only an angsty teenage boy could understand, that you dragged him to. It was the summer before your junior year.

In the photo, his arm was draped completely over your shoulder. You remembered him leaning all of his weight on you - to the point that you fell out of your seat after the picture was taken by your aunt.

And you had fun, like you always did. Steve became a member of your family out of happenstance. It was just because he was always around, really. They all saw him as much as they saw you. 

You put that photo to the back of the stack and kept carding through them. You didn’t find any more pictures of you and Steve. 

The rest were all more recent. Steve stopped you on one that was of you alone - sat at a dinner table, wearing a cable knit sweater. 

“That’s a good one,” he said. 

“Yeah. It’s from Christmas. Senior year, maybe.” 

You acted like you weren’t sure, but you knew exactly when that photo was taken. You just didn’t want him to know how sad you were in it. 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” and you laughed, “this was not a fun party.” He didn’t reply, and so you kept talking, sparing him a shy glance. “Everyone kept asking where you were.” 

The silence was heavier this time. 

“Oh,” he said, trying to bury it. “Yeah.” An awkward chuckle. “I bet that was annoying.” 

You laughed and tried to make it sound real - tried to seem like you didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you know how my family always liked you better.” 

He shrugged, looking like he was going to make a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were distant as they moved down to his lap. 

You shoved the picture to the back with the rest. 

The one behind it was just as lonely. 

Still, Steve perked up at it. “Is that from graduation?” 

You wore a cap and gown, you held a bouquet of flowers, and you stood all alone. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve’s hand wrapped around yours holding the picture, and he tilted it toward him so he could get a better look. 

“My aunt kept trying to get me to find you for a picture,” you laughed. 

“You should’ve.” He smiled something big and real, and you realized with a rush that this is the closest you’d been to him in a while. If you kept looking, you could count the freckles on his cheek. His thumb pressed into the back of your hand. “I remember seeing you. You looked real cute.” 

You ignored his compliment to say something snide. “I ignored you so hard.” 

Another laugh, “Really?” 

“Obviously.” 

“Yeah. That’s fair - I would’ve, too.” 

You tried not to think about how badly you wished he was standing next to you in the picture. 

Steve spoke up, “I -” but you cut him off by accident. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t mean it. He could tell.

“...Is it?” 

It was honest when you replied, “I don’t know.” 

He was still holding your hand. 

“I never told you I’m sorry.” 

“I guess I just figured you were.” 

You dropped the pictures on the table, dropping his hand with them.

“Is that good enough?” It was an honest question. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.” 

And your answer was genuine, because you didn’t know. Steve had come back into your life just as easily as he left it - on a whim, without any warning. You didn’t put any roadblocks in his way. 

But you stared at the photos spread out in front of you. At the story they told of your friendship that would always be unfinished. 

You had to teach yourself how to do life without him. All of those lessons seemed useless, now, because here he was. And you didn’t even know if he ever missed you. 

You pulled away from him, a move that was far more snappy than you meant. You did it like he’d reached out and burned you. It had Webster jumping down to the floor. 

“It’s fine,” you repeated. 

“I think you’re lying just to make me feel better.” 

“I don’t know why I’m lying.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it now,” he mumbled, and you stood up. The chair scraped the floor in a way that grated your ears. You turned your back to him. 

“I thought I knew you.” Your eyes welled up, your nose started to run. You balled your hands up like you were on defense. “I thought you would say sorry, and make everything go back to normal like you always did. But you didn’t. I thought you would miss me, at least, but - but you didn’t.” 

“You think I didn’t miss you?” 

The shake in his voice had your fist dropping to hit your thighs, defeated. 

“I miss you more than anything. I’m sorry - I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, or because I have to, I - I don’t even deserve to be saying it.” He paused, and you could imagine the way he was running his hands through his hair and pacing around with nerves. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend. For not treating you like you deserved - I hate myself for it. You were the best thing in my life, and I know that now. I was just too scared to come crawling back to you because I wasn’t worth your time.”

You breathed in deep, exhaled hard, and it felt like the first breath you had taken in two years. It was that feeling when you’ve forgotten your keys but find the door unlocked - the relief of being let in despite a mistake, it rushed through you, and it had you turning to look at him. You found him standing and staring at you, through you, with glassy eyes you would always know. 

“I just miss you, Steve.” 

Three steps and then he was around you. And you were safer than a child hiding under their blanket from whatever lurked in their closet - monsters weren’t real if his arms were around you. That had always, always been true. 

Webster rubbed up against your leg, then Steve’s. The hug shook with both of your laughter, and he held you tighter. 

… 

Things didn’t go back to how they used to be after that, but it was close enough. And you were trying to settle into the differences that kept knocking you off your feet. 

It started with late night phone calls. 

Before, you never talked on the phone. Why would you when his house was a stone throw away? If you wanted to talk, you’d invite yourself to his place. 

But the two of you were still dancing on the ripped edges of that two year old fight. Wounds were still healing - almost there, but not quite. So it was easier to take it slow, to treat this time as something brand new. 

And it was brand new. 

You had caught yourself grinning ear to ear over stories he’d tell you, and you had to force the smile off your face. Like you shouldn’t be acting that way over your friend - you quickly realized you just couldn’t help it. 

He’d keep you up too late and tease you for it the next day. And you weren’t sure if he was trying to get a rise out of you, but that’s how you felt. He acted so smug after seeing your cheeks swell in embarrassment. 

So it wasn’t going back to how it was before. In fact, it was going down an entirely different road - one that wasn’t even on the map. 

You weren’t complaining, because you felt things you hadn't felt before around him. He made you feel warm, and you were addicted to it. You were addicted to him, and you had blind hope that the feeling was mutual. 

He’d spend his entire lunch break visiting you, even if your breaks didn’t line up. He’d follow you around the apparel section at Roses and you’d have all your attention on him, just the way he liked it. He made sure to see you every day.

You never thought he’d make you feel so shy, but it was an emotion you couldn’t get enough of. You hardly realized what you were spiraling into until you’d catch him looking at you with a blush on his cheeks, or until you had to stop yourself from thinking about him every night before bed. 

But there was something glaring, something major, something you couldn’t look at directly until it came up in conversation with Robin. 

Robin and Steve always had Sundays off, so the day was designated to be stolen by their other friends - who were all in junior high. 

When you asked why they were friends with junior high kids, Steve called himself their babysitter. Robin said she was their good influence. You avoided asking follow up questions. 

It was a lazy autumn day, one where the warmth of fallen leaves reflected in the air - something rare for early November. 

The youngest of the kids, Erica, loved putting on a nice outfit and going for a walk. Today it was yellow Chucks, a red silk and pleated maxi skirt, and a long sleeve button up with a rainbow of vertical stripes. (It would have been a tie dyed short sleeve, if Steve hadn’t told her it was too chilly for it.) She had stuck gems beside her eyes, the kind that come in the plastic packets and don’t stay on for long, and Robin packed yellow eyeshadow on her eyelids. 

She was downright cute, but if you told the eleven year old that she’d aim her sass at you and shoot to kill. She much preferred receiving a refined compliment, because, “I hear that all the time.” 

Today, you told her you loved the way she paired so many colors together. She grinned something beautiful and kicked her foot up behind her and agreed with you. 

Steve had once described her as a menace - you didn’t understand why. 

You walked with Robin a few feet behind Erica, Dustin, and Steve. Dustin had not stopped talking the whole time, except when Erica butted in. Steve had stolen the younger boy’s thinking cap hat and was wearing it backwards. 

“The last time I wore this coat, I found two phone numbers in the pocket.” Robin held up two fingers and gestured to the Letterman jacket she wore. It was Steve’s. “Can you believe that? I mean, what a douche. I wouldn’t even wear this if it wasn’t so warm.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, I believe it, actually. They were probably from some cheerleaders or something.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t get any numbers these days. He’s cursed to be forever lame as punishment for the jerk he was in high school.” Robin was smirking wicked and wide, like it was satisfying for her. 

“He’s lost all his charm?” 

“All of it. I mean, one hundred percent. I used to keep count of how many times he fell on his face in front of girls. It’s magnificent, truly.” Then, quieter, “He’ll get it back, though. One day.” 

“He used to have no trouble at all.” The conversation had the gears in your head turning; it had you speaking without thinking. “I don’t know. He’s really different now.” 

Robin laughed, like you were joking. “Yeah, he learned manners, for one.” 

“It’s not that.” You were thinking out loud. “He’s nicer, yeah, but… it’s almost like he’s not even the same person. I’m not sure what happened.” 

The Steve you knew was boisterous. He was unapologetic. He was stupidly confident, the life of the party, and he wasn’t afraid of anything. A wouldn’t take no for an answer, go with the flow, drop of the hat kind of person. 

You were lucky to know him when that’s all he was. Before the halls of Hawkins High swallowed him and spit out someone ornery who cared too much but not at all. 

You thought it was just Tommy and Carol’s influence. Now that he wasn’t their friend anymore, you thought he’d become who he used to be. 

“He told me how close you two were before,” Robin said. She was tugging on a strand of hair that was stuck in her lip gloss. “I guess I never knew him like you did.” 

“He’s so quiet now. He used to be so loud.” You meant it more than literally - you hoped Robin would understand. “I don’t know. So much changed and it’s only been a couple years.” 

It seemed like she was struggling to reply, because it took her more than a few seconds to get her words out. 

“I guess - I mean - I think you’ve probably changed a lot, too. Two years is a long time, right?” 

Robin knew. No one could tell, but she knew. 

Maybe the differences that you had described of Steve were really there. She wasn’t able to see them the way you could, but she didn’t care. It was selfish to admit that she would never change a thing about him - but one. 

He was waiting. 

Everyone was, she thinks. 

Waiting for another fight. 

It wasn’t easy to go back to normal after trudging through hell. It was like coming out the other side of trench warfare unharmed - you didn’t. When a gun fires, its bullets hit. If a bomb is dropped it doesn’t miss a fucking thing, and Starcourt Mall was goddamn ground zero. 

And Robin wasn’t there for the disappearance of Will Byers. The death of Barbra Holland. The Upside Down. The Demogorgon. The Demodogs, and the lab, and the girl with psychic powers. She wasn’t there, but Steve was. 

Her head hurt just thinking of the stories he’s told her. And she knew his did, too, more often than he’d admit to her.

And she felt bad when her sleeping patterns went back to normal but his didn’t. When she got used to being on edge all the time, Steve still jumped at any noise. His phone would ring and she would watch him prepare himself to answer it - to hear Dustin’s voice on the line telling him that it’s back. 

So when you said that Steve’s changed, Robin didn’t know what to tell you. You were right, and she knew that, but she couldn’t tell you why. You knew everything about him besides, well - everything. 

Robin wished she didn’t have to know, either. She wanted to tell you that you should be grateful you couldn’t see the shackles on his ankles. You got to know him before - and Robin would give anything for that. 

But she couldn’t change a thing. 

Instead, all she could do was wait. 

And lie. 

And pretend. 

“He’s still loud,” she said, uncomfortable as all get out. 

As if he heard her words, Steve busted out in a stomach hurting kind of laughter at one of Dustin’s stories. 

“See what I mean?” 

Your destination was in sight now. Steve turned around - letting Dustin steal his hat back - walking backwards, and reached a hand out to you. 

“You coming?” 

Your pace turned into a skipping sort of jog to catch up with him. When you were close enough he grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He’d been doing that often. 

The kids and Robin broke away, heading for the tiny park that was up on your right. To your left, Steve tugged you to a tiny convenience store.

“Place your orders!” he called. 

Dustin and Erica shouted at the same time. Steve mumbled something about not being able to understand them, so you relayed their messages. 

“You’re getting two things! No more than that!” he shouted back. “Robin?”

“7-Up.”

“What else?” 

“Surprise me!” 

You hung onto his arm as you walked into the store, and you weren’t even sure why. He never pulled away when you got that close, so you kept going back. 

You went for the drink coolers first. He reached for the apple juice. 

“She likes orange juice the best, now,” you said. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” 

“You better be right - if she’s mad at me over this, I’ll be mad at you.” 

You rounded up all the snacks everyone wanted, following Steve’s only two items rule. You laughed when he chose plain potato chips as Robin’s surprise - the blandest possible choice. And while he checked out at the counter, you wandered off into the aisles. 

He acted like he didn’t want you to go, pulling you back and asking a quiet, “where’re you going?” 

“To look around.” 

It was straight to the candy aisle for a Blow Pop for Erica, Pop Rocks for Dustin, and sour gummy worms to share. You liked spoiling them - it helped to get on their good side. 

You made a stop at the candy bars to grab a Snickers bar before going back to the counter, and Steve immediately shook his head when he saw you. 

“What are you doing? What’s all that?” 

“It’s all for me.” You dropped it all for the clerk to scan. 

“All of it?” 

“Yeah.”

“Even though you said you didn’t want anything?” 

“I changed my mind!” 

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, and you watched his hand move to his back pocket. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

His wallet was half way out of his pocket as he laughed. “What?” 

“You’re not paying. Stop.” You tried to sound mad, and felt you were doing a good job, but he kept giggling at you. 

“Oh, are you my boss now?” 

“Yes, Steve,” and you bumped into him, trying to push him away. “Don’t make me say your full name.” 

“Just let me -” 

“Take their things to them! Go!” 

You were shocked when he listened, but he only made it as far as the door. He stood against the glass with his arms crossed, staring at you until you finally followed him. 

“What are you looking at?” 

He pushed his back into the door to open it. “Trying to figure it out.” He reached for your hand, and you swatted it away, only for him to catch you, anyway. And you let him hold your hand, all the way across the street to the park. 

Your friends sat at a picnic table waiting patiently. It was actually two tables pushed together, doubling the normal length; Erica and Dustin sat opposite each other on one end, and Robin sat in the middle, crisscrossed on top of the table. 

Steve divvied snacks to grabby hands, and you snuck their surprise treats in to the sound of thank yous. 

You took your seat on the other end of the table across from Steve. When you sat down, he put a bottle of Coke between you. 

“Are you going to share?” you asked. 

“Only if you’ve got something to give me in return.” 

The Snickers bar made a thud on the wooden table. Steve hummed. “I guess that’s good enough.” 

You were almost happy with the trade until you realized, “No bottle opener?” 

His eyes doubled their size. “Shit.” Then, he grabbed the bottle. “No, it's a twist off.” The noise he made as he tried taking off the cap was something like a squeak, and everyone at the table laughed. 

“Just walk back to the store!” 

“Dustin - Dustin! Do you -” 

The boy slid a large key ring down the table. It was a wad of keys, keychains, and gadgets. 

“It’s on there somewhere.” 

There was a mini flashlight, a laser pointer, a plastic Q*bert charm, a pocket knife, keys and keys and keys, a kubaton, and, “Yes!” a bottle opener. 

“This is why I keep you around, Henderson.” 

“I’m the one keeping you guys around, first of all.” 

You grabbed the Coke and guzzled a couple drinks worth in one go, and when you put it back down, Steve had already eaten half the candy bar in one bite. 

“Steve!” 

His mouth was full when he said, “What?” 

“Why can’t you share? Why didn’t anyone ever teach you about sharing?” His laugh was sweeter than the chocolate he was shoving into your face. “Stop, I don’t wanna eat after you.” 

“We’ve got the same germs,” he said, and he was feeding you the Snickers before you could make another argument. 

The snacks were all gone much quicker than it took to walk and get them, because none of you would ever learn to savor the destination. Regardless, next Sunday, you’d all be sitting in the same spot - give or take a few others, creating a good day for yourselves. 

And, if you were lucky, Steve would be holding your hand the whole time. 

...

It didn’t matter who you were cheering for on the court, you hated high school basketball games. 

Going to Lucas’s game brought back far too many memories than you’d care to recollect. But even though you hated it, you were still filled with pride watching the boy play the game so well. 

And Steve hadn’t shut up about it all night. He spoke about Lucas shooting the buzzer beating winning basket like he was recounting a grand story - something from a movie or a comic book. Like you weren’t sitting beside him the entire time. 

You stood with him in his kitchen, and the excitement had finally started to settle. You and Steve had spent far too long talking about how weird it was to be back in the high school gym, and both of you agreed that you didn’t miss it at all. 

“Is Robin excited for spring break?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “She said she’s spending the entire week here so she can be as lazy as she wants, so - I guess she is.” 

You threw a weak fist into his shoulder and he caught it. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“She’s gonna steal all my time!” His grin was contagious as he slotted his fingers into yours. “And that means I can’t steal all of yours.” 

“Does that mean I’m finally getting a break from you?” You laughed, but he didn’t. 

It was weird, the way his entire demeanor changed in a snap. Before you could even take back the joke you made he was shifting his eyes and dropping his grin. 

He had always worn his heart on his sleeve, even if he tried hiding it. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah.” It was a hand through his hair that said the opposite, but you’d never call out his tells. “I just - that reminded me there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” He dropped your hand to cross his arms, and it had you feeling nervous.

“What about? …Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, honey.” You weren’t sure when that nickname came around, or when it started to stick, but it had a fairy fluttering its wings in your chest. He started to reach for you again, you could see it, but he stopped himself. “You could never do anything wrong.” 

You laughed quiet. “Neither could you.” 

You moved to stand next to him, mirroring the way his back leaned against the counter. Your arm pressed to his. He was looking at the floor; you were looking at him. 

“Are you sure?” It started as a whisper but jumped into a shake, a crack in his voice that said more than he wanted to. And he looked at you, to see if you caught it, and you swore his eyes were shining. He didn’t show them to you for longer than a moment. 

“Steve?”

“I just - I don’t want to fuck this up again.” 

“How would that even happen?” 

He looked at you like he knew something you didn’t. “I don’t know.” 

You nudged his arm with your elbow, again and again, until his crossed arms dropped. Your pointer finger snaked around his, and the touch brought enough bravery out of him to link his fingers with yours. 

“What do you know?”

He scoffed into a smile, one big enough to reach his eyes, and it brought him out of his funk. “I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to you as he made the joke. 

“That’s what I thought,” you replied. “Not a thought going on in your head.” 

Making him laugh was the key to his heart - you knew that, and it worked this time as well as it always had. 

He had his head turned, cheek to shoulder, staring down at you; you were so close, you could watch his eyes move across your face and know where he was looking. They wandered, but when his gaze lingered on your lips - you noticed. 

“I know one thing for sure,” he said.

When you took a loud breath, you’re sure he heard. He gave you eye contact again, and maybe you were seeing things, but you swore you saw question marks swimming in the green. 

He didn’t breathe. You didn’t blink. You moved forward just a hair, and he looked back down, so you pressed on. You wanted to be closer, as close as you could get - it was curiosity or desperation, you didn’t know. 

When he tilted his chin toward you, it was hardly noticeable. But you saw it, and it was enough. Your nose was just about to touch his - you watched his eyes close, right before yours did. There was nothing to do but move closer, closer, closer. 

And then, when you felt just the softest graze of his skin on yours - 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You jumped back from each other like same-side magnets, gasping and jumping at the sound of loud knocks on the front door. 

He moved fast, like he was looking for a way out, leaving you alone in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Steve had a good idea of who he’d see when he opened the door. The knob was jingling when he unlocked it, then pulled it open. 

Sure enough, Robin. Wearing a flannel that was his, with wild bedhead that he couldn’t help laughing at. 

“Did you walk here?” 

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Let me in.” 

It was written all over her face why she was there, and Steve felt bad. 

Even though she asked to come in, she didn’t move. Her features were all scrunched up, her shoulders were hunched into her crossed arms. 

“Robin -” 

“I fucking hate this.” Loud, echoing into the night and through his door. “I hate it, Steve, and I swear - I swear it’s not over.” Her eyes wet her cheeks; she looked at him through tears. “It’s going to happen again. I can feel it. And I’m scared.” 

He had to pull her inside, because he knew she’d stand in the same spot all night if he didn’t. She pushed into him, shoving her face into his shoulder, wiping her tears on his shirt. 

“You just need to rest,” he told her.

She spoke something pitiful, not caring that her words were muffled. “The gate’s really closed, right? For sure?” 

“It’s over, Robin, it was just a nightmare - you just need some good sleep, alright?” 

She nodded, wiped her runny nose into her sleeve, and tried pulling her tears back in. 

“I wish I could sleep anywhere else.” 

“I know.” It wasn’t any sort of jab - it was just the truth. The only time she was truly afraid was when she slept alone. 

She hit a fist into his chest, something playful that made things feel a little more okay, and then took herself to the stairs. 

“I’ll be up in a minute to stand guard,” he joked. She barely laughed but it was enough, and he watched her until he couldn’t see her anymore. 

And he hoped you hadn’t heard anything, because he wouldn’t be able to answer any questions you had. When he found you in the kitchen you looked nothing but concerned. 

“Is she okay?” 

All you knew was that she had nightmares about the mall fire. It was a realistic excuse, in comparison to the unbelievable truth. 

“Yeah. You know how she is.” 

You nodded. Steve wasn’t sure how to go back to the talk you were having before, so he avoided it. 

You spoke first. “I hope she’s alright.”

“I should probably go be with her,” he said. 

You were perfectly okay with it, understanding as always. “Yeah. She needs you.” 

He walked you to the door, and it was too brief for his taste. But when you were there, he spoke up. 

“I’m sorry. Can we finish this tomorrow, maybe? I promise - I… I really did want to talk.” 

“Of course,” you said, and it was shy. “Don’t be sorry, Steve, she’s more important right now. We can talk any time.” 

His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a crushing hug. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Before work. We can make plans then.” 

And that was it - he watched you make your walk home until you walked into your front door, and that was it. 

The moment was ruined, and he might not be able to make it happen again. 

… 

Steve didn’t call you the next morning. 

-

-

-

part two!!!!

[angelofthenight]

Kenchanted Pt.4

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Mostly dialogue, Y/N is hinted at being depressed but it’s nothing triggering or significant

Word Count: 3.5k

Table of Contents

You rushed into the police station with a jog to your steps, your motivation being the man that hasn’t evacuated your mind even for a second ever since you sent him away. You were only home for about an hour before the police station had called you and Ken’s voice spoke over the line.

He excitedly explained to you where he was and how they told him he could get a phone call. The only phone number he knew was yours due to seeing it written on Julius’ desk. So that’s how you found yourself in the police department as they released Ken, who was now all decked out in stylish cowboy clothes, from the holding cell.

“Ken, what happened? You were gone for only an hour-” You spoke with big eyes as Ken ran towards you with a big, dopey grin strung up on his face. “(Y/n)! Great news! They’ve seen Barbie!” He cut you off with giddiness.

You put your hands up to slow him down, much more important questions existing that needed to be answered. “Ken, why are you in jail?” Said man shrugged. “Beats me.” Your eyes traveled up and down his form, taking in his new appearance from the cowboy boots all the way up to the matching hat. “Why did you change clothes? And why would you dress up as a cowboy?”

“Hey, I love fringe!” Ken defended, fastly shaking his shoulders to make the white fringe whip around. “I didn’t really feel like myself in the clothes you gave me so when I saw this in a store window I changed. But then the clerk started yelling at me and chasing me and then they arrested me.”

You blinked rapidly at the information. “You stole this?!” You cried out, gesturing towards his Western clothes. “I gave you money though!” “Oh that’s what it was for?” “Do you even still have it?”

Ken rocked on his heels, twiddling with his plastic fingers behind his back as he scrunched his lips. “…No.” You glared right at him with hands on your hips. “What did you spend it on?!” “I stepped on some picture on the ground by accident and some guy ran up yelling at me and telling me to pay him money for stepping on his picture so I gave it to him.” He explained with an innocent, naive shrug.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, Ken.” You released yourself to take a deep breath. “Well, you fell for your first LA scam. Congratulations.” You said through a galled monotone. Ken couldn’t see through your sarcasm. “Thank you!” He chirped with a proud smile and composure, tipping his white cowboy hat to you.

Once you bailed Ken out, rather than taking him straight to your car, you took him for a little stroll around town to properly talk with him. “I’m sorry about everything I said earlier today. I’m just not used to falling off my everyday schedule. And my boss and I both have a lot of expectations from myself, so I’m not the most flexible person.” You told him, still not feeling that well with letting him go.

“I forgive you.” Ken quickly replied with an upbeat bounce, not sounding the least bit of upset with you. “But it would be nice if you did loosen up a bit. Just go with the flow.” He recommended, waving his arms out to express the last bit. You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah. Maybe I should just do what you would do. Throw myself into every opportunity to get in trouble.”

“Sometimes trouble can be fun!”

“Not if it gets you thrown in a holding cell and goes into your record.”

“But at least there I got to find out that Barbie is in the area! The policeman told me she got in for the same reason as me!”

“If they were telling the truth that is.”

You didn’t mean to be so negative, but you just didn’t want to get the poor guys hopes up. It’s a very realistic possibility that the cops were just humoring him and going along with his antics. This was just your way of desperately attempting to give Ken a needed reality check; knock the sanity back into him. As a natural pessimist, Ken’s optimist disposition felt like nails on a chalkboard to you. He was just so out of touch with reality while you had the tightest grip on it. He needed to understand that life was harsh and unforgiving, no place for such a person like him.

When you opened your mouth with the intent to give Ken a hurtful life lesson Ken halted his tracks when you were about to pass a cotton candy stand, the pink cloudy substance that swirled around the stick capturing his attention. You nearly tripped over your own ceasing feet when you almost walked ahead of him, rejoining to his side.

“Do you want some?” You asked him after noticing how enamored he was with the creation of it. Ken snapped his sparkling eyes over to you, nodding enthusiastically. You pulled out the needed bills and exchanged them for one big, pink fluffy cotton candy. The young worker held out the treat for Ken to happily take before you two continued to walk the westside beach town that led to the boardwalk.

Ken held it a few inches away from his mouth as he did his pretend bites with a cheery grin. You rolled your eyes at this, ‘Not this again’. “Ken, you’re supposed to pinch off a piece and put it in your mouth.” You said as you demonstrated it, nearly humming from the taste since it had been a while too long since you’ve had it.

Ken observed your example and looked back at the pink cotton ball with a sense of hesitant uncertainty. Though he did as you instructed and took a pinch out of the weightless spun sugar. He took a second to study it and hesitantly placed it on his tongue. He closed his lips and was about to chew like he did with the breakfast until he felt nothing but the tasty sand-like sugar on his newly grown taste buds.

His huge eyes whipped to you with shock. “It disappeared!” You let yourself softly laugh, an amused genuine smile spreading your lips. “That’s what cotton candy does.” Ken looked back to the fluffy sugar bush and took several pinch size bites, his eyes lighting up everytime the piece vanished in his mouth. “I didn't know that food could taste like this!” He said when he looked over to you with the happiest of looks.

The two of you continued your walk until you decided to spark up a more casual conversation to get to know Ken a little better. “So, what's the deal with this girlfriend of yours? How long have you two been together?” Ken sucked a sprinkle of the sugar off his thumb before he answered, “Well, we’re supposed to have been boyfrien-girlfrien for 62 years now but she doesn’t really treat us like that.”

Your eyebrows slowly scrunched together as questions began to swarm your mind. “Wait, why do you call yourselves a couple when she doesn’t see it that way?” “Because it’s supposed to be Barbie and Ken. It’s never just Ken.” He explained with that mindless grin of his. You gave him a look. “But most of the time it’s just Barbie though.”

Ken’s smile faltered when you said that, his bright blue orbs floating without direct attention while his mind drifted with distraction; lingering on your words. He shook himself out of his space-out to put back up a bright smile. “What about you? How long have you known your Rob?” He asked you before you told him it had been five years.

“Has he moved in with you yet? That’s my dream with Barbie.” You felt your muscles slightly tense upwards at the uncomfortable question that people always had to ask. “Um, no, he hasn’t.” You replied as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “I mean it’s in the plan but he wants to move in sooner rather than later when I think it should be later than sooner. There’s just a lot that needs to be done when moving in together, and don’t even get me started on billings and picking out a place.”

Ken raised his brows at your explanation. Never has he met someone so worked up about beyond tomorrow while Ken himself has never felt burdened by the knowledge of upcoming decisions and plans. “Wow, you think a lot about the future.” He breathed out.

“Well, I have to. Being planned, prepped and prepared is the key to stability, and I apply that to me and my boyfriend and our relationship.”

“You have such strange ideas about love and life.” Ken chuckled to himself which made you mockingly snicker back. “Forget ‘love’, it doesn't exist.”

Ken nearly tripped.

“How could you say that?!” He practically screamed in your ear, his expression deeply shocked and offended. “Of course it does!” You glared at his raised volume, glancing around to make sure no one in the public was looking in your direction. You stepped closer to Ken to talk in a hushed tone, trying to signal him to keep his voice down. “And how do you know?” You questioned with a condescending shadow over your voice.

“In Barbieland, I’m surrounded by lots of Barbie’s and Ken’s who are head over heels in love.” Ken proclaimed with an expressive nod as you resumed walking. “Are you in love with…” you steered off for a second as you realized he used the two names in plural, “your Barbie?”

“Well yeah…” Ken answered all too quickly yet his expression deflated as he glanced off momentarily, “but it’s not the real thing. At least not yet. True love is a two-way street, y’know.”

You gestured toward him. “Exactly my point.” You said. “True love is either always one sided or fake. Love is finite and never lasts.” Ken was visibly frowning at what you were saying as your point of view. “What about you and Rob? Don’t you love each other?” He asks like he was a child of divorce. You stopped in your tracks, Ken copying you to watch you struggle for words.

“It’s…” You bit your lip as you trailed off. You never liked trying to verbalize your feelings, you preferred keeping it all inside you in a place where you didn’t have to acknowledge or explain them. “Well I am attracted to him and I do like him in that way. But being ‘in love’ is kind of far of a stretch.” You sighed, rubbing your tired eye before reconnecting eye contact. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's complicated.”

Ken looked back and forth between your eyes, as if searching for some kind of explanation for your bleak way of thinking. He just didn’t understand you. “But it doesn't have to be though.” He argued, desperation clawing at his throat and frustrated tears threatening to border his orbs.

You shrugged with a melancholy frown. “That’s just how the world is, Ken. It’s messy and unclear, and it’s just plain cruel. That’s why we have to toughen ourselves up for it and nothing can ever seriously hurt us.” You spoke with a thick shroud of disapointment heavy in your voice; speaking purely out of the experience he seemed to lack.

You nearly snapped your own neck when you heard Ken mumble beneath his breath, “That’s not how the world in Barbieland works.”

“Well maybe it’s just a naive, ignorant world.” You growled back under your breath. You loathed how often he talked about this “Barbieland” and how flawless it sounded to be. It made you furious. You were beginning to theorize he was just in a cult on a remote, isolated landmass or island. It would explain all your questions about him and his homeland.

The world was black and white, wicked and dark. It was relentless with problems and it was a ‘survival of the mentally fittest’ built place. You had to raise and fend for yourself and once you blinked and found yourself all grown up, your view of the world had been molded by your own disappointment and anger. But now you refused to see the world any other way. Because then you would have to admit that you were wrong and that it was just your specific life that was like that. You were not wrong though. The world was- “Can I ask you something?” Ken’s sudden lively voice pulled you out of your dark cloud of stormy thoughts. “What.” You grumbled.

He gulped, staring at your grumpy expression as he began to feel a nervousness swell up within him to ask you, “Why don’t you smile?”

You blinked several times, bafflement softening up the scowl on your face you didn’t even realize was present. You glanced around timidly, awkwardly trying to decide on an answer. “I do. Just not every minute of the day, but I do smile.”

“But aren’t you happy?” Ken pressed on, making you more uncomfortable as you preferred to not talk about your emotions or the feelings that weren’t disappointment or anger or disgust. “I mean, I’m content.” You tried to explain but that seemed to further Ken’s confusion. “But not happy?”

Ken felt so… he didn’t even know a word that describes what he felt about it. He had never met someone who wasn’t quick to admit that they were happy, both with themselves or with their life. Every hour of the day in Barbieland, every Barbie and every Ken had the time of their plastic lives. Everything was perfect, aside from his relationship with Stereotypical Barbie. From the weather, to the food, to the activities, to the parties, to the clothes, to the community.

And you were just the… opposite of everyone he’s familiar with. Yet he didn’t exactly dislike that. Of course you were such a wet blanket though, but something as unfamiliar as you kind of gave him this sort of thrill. The kind of thrill he felt at the pit of his stomach when he was about to face the biggest plastic wave he’s ever seen, not really scared but not really excited.

“It’s another complicated thing, Ken. I like my life and I like my relationships. I wouldn’t say that I’m not happy, I do feel happiness a lot but it’s… it’s complicated.” You sighed out while tightly crossing your arms as if that would ease your discomfort. Ken made himself slowly nod despite not really understanding, mentally digesting your foreign predicament. He looked off into nothing particular as he tried to maintain a steady breath, your overall mentality nearly overwhelming him. “Everything sounds complicated with you.”

You shrugged at his observation, wondering if you really did overuse that specific word even if it was the perfect description for most things in your life. “Happiness just isn’t my top priority. And if it's just something you need to work for well then I have more important things in my life that I can put my energy into.”

“Like what?”

“Like my work.”

“And?”

“And housework and bills and…” you mentally screamed at yourself as your mind went blank, “and quite literally anything else.” You grumbled which left Ken the open opportunity to dig.

“Like dancing?” He pepped up, taking your ‘anything else’ very literally. You briefly nibbled on your lip. “Well no but-”

“Beaches?”

“No-”

“Concerts?”

“I don’t-”

He went on to list all the things he and other dolls personally enjoyed doing. “Baking? Theme parks? Camping?” His list was cut off with the exclamation at the notice of a certain A frame sign that caught his eye. “Disco parties!” He squeaked as he pointed at it, immediately jogging to it with you chasing after him.

“There’s going to be a Disco Party at the pier next week!” Ken read with a burst of joy overflowing him as he practically bounced on his heels with a gleeful giddiness spreading his lips into a wide smile while pointing at the sign like a kid pointing out a toy they want at the store to their mom.

You stood at his side to study the sign on your own, resisting the itching feeling to roll your eyes at the colorful public invitation with a big disco ball at the corner of it and 70s song references scattered across the words. “We should go!” Ken insisted with excitement bubbling through his composure.

Your lips held a small sour cringe. “I don’t dance.” You instantly shot down which made his energy deflate as he gave you a look of mortification. “What do you mean you don’t dance?!” “I just think it’s stupid.” You shrugged simply.

Ken squared his shoulders at you with his hands on his hips, his eyes blown open. “Have you even tried it?” He sharply questioned. A condescending smirk twitched the corner of your mouth as your eyes rolled. “I don’t have to swing and flail my body around myself to know that it looks ridiculous and embarrassing.” You said easily while you tightly crossed your arms in an uptight manner.

Ken blinked. “Em… bear… a-sing?” You raised a brow. “Yeah, embarrassing. You know that shameful, self-conscious feeling you get when you do something you’re uncomfortable with in front of others?”

He slightly spaced out as he thought over your explained definition, realizing that he has felt that negative feeling before. But he couldn’t apply that to something as refreshing as dancing. “…Oh! So you’re just too shy to dance?” He concluded with an accomplished smile and a pointer finger at you. You groaned under your breath and turned away from him to walk back the way you came with your tightly crossed arms. “I’m not shy, I just would prefer to keep my dignity.”

Ken watched you walk ahead of him for a moment. A strange warmness tickled the pit of his stomach as a mindless grin, birthed from that foreign sensation, settled into his lips. A little chuckle rang out through his throat and past his misty smile as his eyes remained on you before he jogged to catch up to you, rejoining you by your side.

That chuckle erupted again but lighter. “You know, I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re really weird.” You vaguely flinched at his comment before giving him a quick up and down glance. “You’re not so normal yourself.”

“But I actually kinda really like that you’re weird.” He added with a soft smile planted delicately on his lips. “It’s so different from what I’m used to.” Although the compliment was unflattering, you felt a sudden warm temperature expand throughout your chest. Identical to that toasty, cozy bodily reaction you get when you’re in a freezing cabin in the middle of winter and you just lit a flaming fireplace.

You told yourself it was just the California heat getting to you.

The corners of your mouth perked up gently without your consent as you admitted, “And even though your immature naivety can be so annoying it gives me a headache, it can be cute.” Ken’s smile broadened enough for his teeth to show, snapping his beaming eyes down at you. “You think I’m cute?”

You shot a glare up at him, trying to force your grin down into a frown but your upturned lips were too heavy to weigh down. “I never said that.” He shook his head up and down enthusiastically in an overly joyful manner. “You did though!” You let out a repressed laugh, it coming out too suddenly for you to try to hold it in. “Don’t think too much into it though. I still think a fish is cuter than you.”

“But still cute.”

“Just shut up, okay?”

You two walked in silence for a moment, a lighthearted and playful atmosphere circling around you until you felt Ken’s bright blue eyes lasering into you. You glanced up at him to catch his cheeky gaze and grin. “What?” You asked, your brows pinching together.

“I made you smile.” Ken pointed out, sounding very proud of himself while remembering how much you didn’t smile.

You abruptly felt the pulse of your heart pound one beat harder than the rest, not even realizing that you were in fact still smiling. You finally got the strength to drop your smile into your signature frown, practically a scowl. “Whatever. Let’s go home now.” You brushed off as you motioned the blond to follow you.

Ken slightly tilted his head, puzzlement teasing his expression. “You mean your home?” He asked, making sure you didn’t mean Barbieland which was his home. He couldn’t go home without Barbie.

You paused, internally stabbing yourself from the embarrassing mistake. “Yeah… my home.”

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 10

roman roy x fem!reader

Summary: A week has gone by since you and Roman had argued and you both refuse to let it go. He even had resorted to ignoring you and making your job difficult. You get an offer from Kendall and take it.

TW: dr*g and alcohol abuse

Note: I had such a difficult time trying to figure out how to close this era off to the next. But thank you tik tok for giving me an idea.

Chapter 10: Nut milk

You and Roman hadn’t spoken to one another in over a week. You turned down Shiv’s dinner request, knowing it would be too soon to be around Roman for that long after just spending your morning and afternoon with him. You just thought it was for the best to give him that space. But in return of that, you were spending more time with Jess. You felt guilty though. You constantly lied to her about what happened with Roman. You just passed it off as you both saying very nasty things to each other because Roman was upset about the CEO position being taken away from him. Jess felt sorry for you. It had really taken a toll on you that even Kendall mentioned it. He offered to bring you on his morning runs, but you weren’t up for it. But he did finally come up with an offer you were willing to take.

Since Kendall began seeing Naomi Pierce, they’ve been both falling into bad habits. Their dynamic basically consisted of binges and partying together. He thought it’d be great to invite you out since he had tried to promise you that his idea of fun wasn’t as boring as you assumed it would be. You fought with the idea for a bit before accepting his offer.

You had gotten ready in your normal clothes for the first time in a while. This was the only time you had didn’t feel the need to dress up professionally. You had asked Jess to tag along, but she felt a bit burned out to go out to a party that realistically was going to last awhile. Kendall’s car was going to be there soon. He had brought a few more people out with them, which were all of Naomi’s friends that she felt comfortable sharing her relapse with. She wasn’t willing to let the news break out like the last time. Which she blamed ATN for. You made final edits to your appearance before finally rushing out of the apartment. You had gotten into the limo the Kendall sent out. No one was in there though. I guess you were the only one who lived farther from them. I mean, you did live in Brooklyn, and they probably were in Manhattan. But eventually the car filled up. You had just chatted with the girls that came in, pouring drinks for each other and laughing. They weren’t typically your type of people, but a night out could be fun with them. As long as they didn’t act too out of line. But everyone stopped as the host of the night, Kendall and Naomi got into the car. He seemed a lot more jumpy than he has ever been. He spoke a lot quicker too and seemed to stumble on his own words a lot. You had spent enough time in the club scene to see what was happening. He had just done a couple of lines with Naomi before getting in the car. You just decided to not say much. It wasn’t really your business. He had relapsed long ago, you knew that. Maybe he was handling his addiction better? You tried to rationalize it. Kendall kept encouraging everyone to do shots, even you. “Come on! One more before we go in.” Kendall encouraged. One of Naomi’s friends had poured everyone one before raising hers in the air. “One! Two! Three!” One of them counted before they all downed your shot. You were psyching yourself out before taking the shot down. You dry heaved from the taste of it. “Isn’t fancy tequila supposed to go down easier?” You coughed, grabbing a soda to drink to get rid of the flavor that was still on your tongue. The car stopped, but you fixed your lipstick before getting out with everyone. Kendall made sure to watch over you tonight. He wasn’t sure what you were really prepared for and how much you were willing to even be around. He also did have some care for you after having to see you constantly. He didn’t want to leave you behind. He spoke to the bouncer before leading you all in, keeping Naomi on his arm. You were let into a dark room before the doors open to reveal lights flashing everywhere. There were people covering the entire floor, either dancing or making out with a stranger they had just met. You hadn’t gone out in a while actually. Not since you left college a couple months ago. You had no one to go with. And you were too stressed out. But you use to go out 2 or 3 times a night. “You alright?” Kendall shouted over the music into your ear. You nodded, raising a thumbs up. “Our table is gonna be over there. So just order from there. It’s all on me.” He told you. You appreciated the sentiment. Once you adjusted to the environment, you loosened up. You went into the crowd, dancing with yourself or whoever was willing to join you. Every so often Naomi’s friends would join with you or wonder around and discover more stuff in the club. You had gotten a few drinks, downing some shots to keep your energy up. You knew you’d crash eventually, but you weren’t slowing down anytime soon. After a while of going around, you decided to find Kendall. Luckily for you, he had been looking for you as well. You walked to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as he brought you over to Naomi. “Hiiii my gorgeous girl.” Naomi giggled, pinching your cheeks. You were too drunk to even understand your surroundings. “Where have you been tonight? Me and Sophia had just scored some coke, if you’re up for it.” She tried to test out if you’d join or not. Kendall wasn’t sure where you stood with drugs, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

But you were in a place to want to keep excitement in your body. “How long til it gets here?” You asked her. She smiled, looking at Kendall then at you. “20 more minutes.” She told you. You nodded, agreeing to the offer. You had taken a few hits of poppers from strangers today. You weren’t oppose to it. Plus, Kendall could probably afford coke that wasn’t laced with anything. Thankfully Naomi’s friend, Alisson, knew what was going to go down for the night and brought test strips with her.

“Come on, dance with me till it gets here.” You giggled, dragging Naomi away from Kendall. She laughed, putting her hand on your shoulder as you pushed through the crowd to find enough room for the two of you. You listened to the music, moving your body to the beat of it, not caring who was looking or judging you. You finally broke out of your shell that Roman had created. Being around the Roy’s made you feel so self-conscious of how you acted or dressed, but in a setting like this, it didn’t matter when they were just as much of a mess as you were. After dancing to 3 songs, Naomi broke it short, saying her dealer was here. You both rushed out, you stumbling a little. You sat back with Kendall and Naomi and her two friends had gone out to meet with him.

“You look like you’re having fun. I-uh- I feel like I hadn’t seen you smile-y’know since Nan’s.” Kendall expressed to you. You shrugged, slumped on the couch that was in Kendall’s paid section of the club. “Well, you can thank your dumbass little brother for that.” You giggled, grabbing the alcohol that was on the table, pouring cranberry and vodka into a cup before sipping on it to make sure it tasted good enough. You laid back, looking up at Kendall. “Give it up to Roman for ruining things.” Kendall put his glass up to make a toast on Roman’s behalf. You laughed loudly, probably cause of the alcohol, clinking his glass with yours. “What even- “He started before Naomi came in, tapping you both on the shoulder. She directed her head to the direction of somewhere more private. They couldn’t risk pictures leaking out. The club was huge, there were multiple rooms that had some kind of privacy to them. You followed them as they lead you and 2 other girls to a room that was small, but quiet enough. Naomi cut up lines for everyone, preparing some of it and testing to make sure it was good enough to even sniff. It was. But she couldn’t be too stupid. Naomi leaned forward and took a line before the rest of them took a turn, leaving you last. You held the rolled up dollar bill to your nose, leaning forward and inhaling it. You pinched the bridge of your nose, sniffling to make sure you had gotten it through your nose. It felt a bit like a burning sensation. You just had to wait 2 or 5 minutes before it was going to actually start to kick into gear.

“Have you ever done this kind of stuff y/n?” Naomi asked with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean I did a lot of regrettable things in college.” You laughed, palming your nose. You let your hand drop down. Naomi couldn’t stop laughing. You think it finally had hit her. Her high started. Before you knew it yours did too. You all had about 40 minutes before you come down. But Kendall and Naomi weren’t going to wait for it. They had drawn more lines, offering you some. You took the offer. Your body felt a jolt in itself as you had felt as though you were on cloud nine. Your body had a lightness to it. The rest of the night went on, you all just come back and then going out to dance and cause some kind of issue for yourselves. You and Kendall sat together alone, him finally having a come down. It was 3 am, Naomi was almost ready to leave, but was holding out for her friend who was busy with some guy.

“So what happened between you and Rome? You both seemed to be in some kind of fucking little honeymoon phase.” Kendall wondered; his sunglasses put on in an indoor setting to hide what utter shit he looked like after treating his body like that. “I mean- you both- come on.” Kendall teased. “You both basically eye fucked all day.” He wouldn’t let it go.

You would’ve never said this. But you weren’t in the headspace to even talk about anything serious. You had an awareness to you, but your mouth moved faster than your mind. “Roman and I kissed.” You confessed. Kendall shot up, clapping his hands together once. “I fucking knew it. So what? What’s wrong?” He was trying to invade your personal boundaries, but it was just nice to be able to even say anything to anyone. “I uh- well the next morning- I told him we couldn’t do that anymore.” You shrugged. Kendall laughed in disbelief. You were happy that someone finally knew. “Don’t tell Jess.” You begged him. He crossed his chest, making sure you knew he was keeping the secret with him.

“Well, did you want to kiss him?” Kendall was deeply curious. He didn’t see why Roman out of all people. Yeah, it was his brother, but he knew Roman’s personality mostly ruined every relationship he was in. “Yea. But that’s not the point. I just- it’s wrong, right? Me kissing my boss?” You asked him realistically. It was ethically and morally wrong, but it was something you wanted. There was no pressure. But it was social pressure of how you’d be treated. But regardless, you did want him in that way.

“Fuck no!” Kendall went on and tried to break down his thoughts people being upset about that were at the end of the day pussies. “Do you still want him?” Kendall egged you on. You nodded, admitting it to yourself finally. “You should go to his house.” Kendall continued to egg you on. You weren’t sure it was a good idea, but you took a shot of liquid courage and got up. “Wait- are you actually?” He laughed, wanting up with you. You nodded before grabbing your things. “Thank you for the best advice I could ask for Ken.” You hugged him before leaving him alone in the room. He was in complete disbelief that you would actually take his advice in any consideration; nonetheless you did. Roman’s house was just 10 blocks away, so it was about a 15 minute walk. You stumbled down the streets of New York, drunkenly laughing to yourself. You decided to even call Roman to at least give him a heads up. But he never responded. Regardless of you laughed and practically shouted at your phone to let you in when you finally get there. Before you knew it, you were at Roman’s building. You gave your name to the front desk, they’ve seen you before multiple times, letting you in easily. You had gone up to his floor, stepping out of the elevator and knocked on his door. You had probably been standing there for a good 5 minutes before you saw the lights come on in the hallways. Roman had been asleep, hearing buzzing and slamming on his door. He looked around, rubbing his face before finally sitting up in his empty bed. He looked at his phone, seeing a miss call from you, along with a voicemail. He got up, putting on some lounge pants and shirt before going downstairs. He played the voicemail, hearing a lot of laughing and giggling through his phone’s speaker. He could barely understand what you were saying before hearing you stop giggling as much before. “Okay! Byeeeeee! See you soon!” You then broke out into laughter. He turned on the lights in the apartment each time he entered the room before stopping at the door. He leaned up to the peep hole to see you waiting there patiently for him. He opened the door, being met with you coming inside immediately. You wreaked of booze. “Did you just rob a liquor store? It’s 4 am, they’re not even open now. What the fuck are-?” he asked before you shut the door behind the two of you. You laid on his wall, looking up at him suggestively, grabbing the end of his shirt, pulling him lightly close to you.

“You knoooow, I really wanted to fuck you the other night.” You confessed to him, stumbling on your words as you did, not only because of the alcohol, but you did do another line on your way here. You had stolen their little baggie before leaving Kendall. And the shot wasn’t entirely helping your nerves.

“Fucking haha, very funny joke. Get the fuck out y/n.” he rolled his eyes, turning his head away from you. But you ignored him, keeping your hands to fidget with his shirt.

“Noooo, I’m serious. Come on, you wanted to fuck me too.” You poked his stomach. He flinched, grabbing your hand to prevent you from touching his stomach like that again. He looked down at you as you gave him the goofiest smile unconsciously.

“It isn’t professional.” He mimicked your voice. He assumed you had been out and gotten a bit tipsy. You did smell, but it could’ve also been all the alcohol that accidentally spilled onto you the whole evening.

“Fuck professional. I want you right now.” You laughed, pulling him in before kissing him. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. Roman could help himself. His hands landed down to your hips, pulling you close to him as your lips moved together, craving one another. It seemed like nothing was gonna tear you both from one each other. He was still mad, but he craved your touch more than ever. He couldn’t ignore how good you had made him feel that night. He just wanted one more night to feel that way again. He knew this was just as big as a mistake as you did. But he knew this could end badly if he continued on. He pulled away from you. You looked up at him desperately, trying to get him to kiss you again, but he shook his head no. “Come on, let’s get you sobered up.” He sighed. He let his hand out, offering it to you. You took it as he helped you walk to the kitchen. He made sure you didn’t trip as you hopped up on the chair that he had at his island. He grabbed you a cup of water, handing it off to you. “There uh- another room on this floor. I’m going to bed since you woke me up with your late night booty call.” He tried to make you laugh, but right now you’d laugh at anything he said. He tried to make sure you got into his guest bedroom bed safe enough before leaving you alone. He laid you on your side, leaving a trash can from the bathroom on the side for you just in case. He went upstairs to his bedroom, laying back down in his bed. He wanted to hold you, but knew once you woke up, you’d freak out on him. There was no way you were gonna remember any of this. Fortunately for Roman, you had passed out once you laid down. You were in a deep sleep. And you had been for most of the morning. You had woken up at 11:40 with Roman in his common area, just close enough to make sure you were okay. He even had run down to the store to get you some milk that you’d actually drink in your coffee in the morning. He grabbed whatever he saw that wasn’t cow’s milk. He even grabbed a croissant that was in a wrapper. He assumed croissants didn’t need any animal products to be made.  

You got up with a massive headache and your whole body feeling extremely sore from the night before. You groaned, holding your body as close to yourself as possible. Roman heard the groveling, getting up to go to your room. “Good morning, how was your shift at the bar?” He tried to ease you into what had happened the night prior. “Uh-I have-uh fucking aspirin if you want.” He offered, seeing your glass from last night was still full. You looked up at him before covering your face in complete embarrassment of what you did last night. You remembered everything. You didn’t regret what you did, just how you did it. “Are we even now that you rejected me?” You asked, pulling your hands away from your face, looking at Roman with a pout on your lips. Your eyes were too tired to fully open either. The glass walls didn’t help either.

“Yeah-yeah, you’re forgiven. Uh- here, lets get you up, huh?” He passed the conversation back to you. You nodded, slowly getting up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He helped you up, your legs feeling as if they had been beaten with a bat. They wobbled before finally getting a grasp of it. “I’m fine. Uh- do you have a toothbrush I can use?” You asked him. Your breath smelt terrible. It was a mix of morning breathe and liquor residue.  He nodded before rushing back to where he left the bag of shit he got for you. He also made sure to get you a toothbrush. He brought it back as you had made your way to the bathroom already. Your makeup was a complete mess. You washed your face, hearing Roman come in. He set the brand new toothbrush down before sitting on the large counter. “So wanna talk about last night?” He wondered.

You looked up at him, your lips in a tight line. “Can we just have a nice moment again before it goes to shit again?” You begged. He nodded and left you alone. You brushed your teeth and left the bedroom to see Roman pouring himself coffee that he just made you. You went over and grabbed yourself a mug before pouring yourself a cup. “Wanna check the fridge?” He hinted to you. You gave him a questioning look before going to the fridge to see almond milk in the fridge. You weren’t the biggest fan, but the sentiment was kind. You turned to him with endearment. “Thank you, Rome.” You gave him a smile before pouring it into your coffee. “Yeah- shut up.” He pretended to be annoyed. You sat down at the counter, sipping on your coffee. “Uh- I got you a croissant too.” He slid it over to you. Your smile grew, but you suppressed it, trying not to entirely hurt his feelings before breaking the bad news to him.

“Uh- Rome, croissants have egg in them. And butter. And milk. But thank you.” You finally giggled. He quickly grabbed it, calling it bullshit before reading the back to see the allergy warning ‘Contains : Milk and Eggs’. He made an annoyed sound, putting it down.

“Is fucking everything made with that? Fuck- how do you live?” He took his annoyance on you. You put your hand over his and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He pulled away though.

“Rome, I meant what I said last night. I really do want you. I talked about it with someone, and they made me realize that I-uh- that I should stop myself for what a possible outcome could be.” You smiled, finally letting it off your chest. You waited for his reaction. He just stood there and tried to process it. “I’ve liked you for a while, I just didn’t realize until that day and I got scared.” You continued. You hated how silent he was. It made you anxious. You tried to cover the silence with your voice, but Roman finally came to a conclusion.

“Uh- well. I do think you were right. I think it could really hurt both your and my reputation. Fucking-y’know with all that shit about oh abuse of power or whatever the fuck.” He finally gave his answer. He looked over at you, trying to see how you’d respond. You were definitely disappointed and hurt. This is probably how Roman felt the other day. You felt such a large range of emotions. Embarrassed for even putting yourself out there and for kissing him last night. A lot of resentment for Kendall for talking you into it. But a lot of just- sadness I guess- because you wanted to yell at Roman but had no right to. It wasn’t on him.

“Alright- well… I’m uh- I’m sorry for uh- y’know. All that.” You tried to get over the rejection quickly. Roman let out a brief sigh watching as you shifted in your seat. You tried to make it seem as though it didn’t entirely effect you. But it did.

“I-I don’t wanna stop though. If you- only if- you really wanted to take advantage of your boss or whatever the fuck.” He eluded to keeping things private between the two of you. Little sessions and romantic gestures but kept privately. “We don’t need to have sex per say” He tried to dodge that awkward talk of his inability to even have sex hardly ever. “And how would that exactly work?” You asked him, you weren’t entirely sure of what he was even trying to say. “Well-“ He tried to think, walking over to you, laying his hands onto your thighs. He looked at your lips before finally speaking once again. “Maybe just-like this.” He said, laying a hand over your cheek before laying his lips onto yours again. You melted into the kiss, being so much softer yet passionate. You leaned in, moving him in between your legs. Shortly the kiss was cut, you biting down on your bottom lip and looking at Roman as you both shared a mutual understanding of whatever this was going to be. “Well- I guess I’m fine with taking advantage of my poor boss.” You joked before laying one last kiss onto his lips. But Roman couldn’t be in a serious. “Ugh- I can taste that fucking nut water.” You couldn’t help but laugh before drinking your coffee in front of him.

“You’re fucking gross.” You mumbled.

Chapter 11

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie

I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.

I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.

The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.

The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).

The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.

The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.

Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).

Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.

Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.

Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.

Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.

Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.

Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!

Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.

Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.

PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Wildly veering into the realm of headcanon here but I think jgy has, like, deeply embarassing and intense fantasies about nie mingjue being courteous to his mom.

He has them about everyone to some extend it's his favorite way to calm down. Close your eyes, imagine your mom decked out in gold, her hair bound up, everyone bowing to her. It's how he gets through meetings without murdering everyone. But I think nie mingiue in particular is a very common solo target for these.

Lan Xichen gets his own special edition too, but it's not the same. Because he has a very clear and realistic picture of what he'd actually do. They don't talk about his mom that much but whenever she comes up xichen is always like well she sounds like a kind woman trying to make the best of her situation 😊 and everytime he thinks about them interacting there's a risk of it getting sad because oh if only...

Jin guangshan? Complete opposite end of the spectrum. It's very gratifying to imagine his mom getting everything she wanted but it's also too unrealistic. Even when still desperate for approval he knows what his father is like. He indulges in them from time to time but it's like the whole time there's an alarm flashing red overhead and going "out of character! Out of character!"

But Nie mingjue. Ohhhhh. Perfectly in the middle. Possible, but improbable enough it be exiting. Sure, he's an honourable man who didn't judge him for his background but he judged him for a whole lot of other things. Did he not discard jin guangyao just like his father threw away his mother when he got bored of her? He's both so easy to admire and so easy to be angry at and it's tantalizing.

He imagines himself walking arm in arm with his mom, in better health than she's ever been, dressed more luxuriously than even the wives of sect leaders on their wedding days, and Nie Mingjue comes up and bowes to her deeper than any sect leader should bow to anyone. Maybe even takes her hand and kisses it and dream!jgy gasps because that is so improper for any unmarried man to do to a woman not of his family!! But Nie Mingjue just looks confused because why shouldn't he pay Meng Shi the respect she so clearly deserves? If people interpret it wrongly that is their problem. Not even er-ge would do that. Would avoid inappropiate touches as a proper lan should but Nie Mingjue? Mingjue doesn't care about those things, if he wants to tell jin guangyao's mother she is the most elegant and radiant woman he's seen in the entire jianghu he will do so because he means it, dammit.

You can't call them horny exactly but they are carnal. This is a deep base desire he's satisfying here and oh does nie mingjue do his job well.

I think he has them, like, almost every day. I think he wakes up from them blushing I think he daydreams about it every single time he and Nie Mingjue talk. Even if it went bad. Especially if it went bad.

I think after the stairs incident the dreams mortifyingly increase dramatically for a few days. He sees it play out behind his eyelids everytime he so much as blinks. Imagines Nie Mingjue down on his knees kowtowing, apologizing to his mother, imagines him being outraged at his real self's words. Dishonourable, unfair, he would never say that. He closes his eyes when he first plays the song of turmoil for nie mingjue and imagines it the entire time. And when he's done he takes a deep breath and then he fucking beats the thought to death and stuffs it away with all the other feelings he's repressing and then never thinks about it again.

Nothing else is ever that satisfying but sometimes sacrifices must be made.

[zahri-melitor]

Some more coherent thoughts about Gotham War, now it's settled on me.

(Spoilers below cut, for length and as it's still only Wednesday)

It's not a huge surprise, but Selina's whole 'train henches to steal from the rich non-violently!' ended up being a complete side issue that only existed to get the plot moving. Nobody's conception of this plot, in two years time, will really include this detail, despite the thousands of words spent arguing how ridiculous it was.

Yes it remains a poorly thought out plan on Selina's part (she's never heard of earning money legally) but the narrative also frames it as long term ineffective from the very first issue and knocks it down on multiple occasions.

DC editorial definitely tried to dress this up as a full family event, but realistically it was a Bruce, Selina and Jason event, written by their three current writers, with solid bit parts played by Tim and Dick.

Vandal Savage remains ridiculous and ready to sacrifice anyone and I appreciate that about him. As a villain he was just the right level of stakes for this event.

I enjoyed getting to see Scandal, even if her fans would say she got done dirty here. Scandal usually has enough sense not to believe anything Vandal says, and I admit I was somewhat waiting for some level of twist here as to why Scandal was all for immortality at this point in time, but it never came.

I still agree it felt a lot like three separate plotlines intersecting, but I think they managed to land the event successfully (while leaving some nice loose threads). I actually appreciate they didn't overreach in their goals.

It still finished out with two separate plotlines: Bruce and Selina and Jason; and Dick and Tim and the rest of the family. Structurally this again reminded me as much of Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul as Batman #138 did; the main plot and then the far more interesting Dick & Tim sideplot which is what I go back to reread. (Chip Zdarsky is clearly also a fan)

Also promisingly for an event yes, it did actually shake up the status quo and push the participants off in new directions.

So Bruce is now doing the Loner Batman thing (in that he's locked out of the fam computers/comm lines), Selina is officially 'dead' (what is with all these fake dead people with titles, Penguin is too right now), and Jason has what's effectively permanent fear toxin response to stressful situations. Also, apparently, we are getting Dick and Barbara back 'running' the Batfam while Bruce is on the outs.

As far as Bruce goes, what has been really notable in this event is how much Chip Zdarsky loves early 2000s Bat comics and their dynamics, and particularly Joker's Last Laugh. There's a lot of structural things about how this event was shaped, what specific characters did, and emotional beats that feel very JLL as someone who's read it at least half a dozen times. It's not the only influence, but it's a pretty prominent one.

Bruce ending the event in a position where he's effectively not working with most of the other Bats actually tracks reasonably well over to Batman & Robin, to my surprise. It makes sense that it's just Bruce and Damian and they're focusing on homelife and domestic relationship details between the two. It gives Bruce an excuse for why he's closely focused on Damian there.

I will admit I have not been reading Catwoman, but from the event it seems they're spinning her off to keep moving her back into a more antihero position. Tini Howard clearly has a direction she wants to take Selina.

I actually think this has pretty interesting storytelling potential for Jason. It means that he has to stay calm, or has to overcome his own fear to achieve things. It gives him a goal? Matthew Rosenberg clearly seems interested in using it for his Jason storytelling and he's got Jason right now, so...

I'm personally delighted by how much Tim Zdarsky wrote into this storyline. He used the space more to show off Dick and Tim's brotherhood and what Tim is good at, rather than push the Tim side of the Zur story we're all expecting to occur (there's that waiting Zur-Robin costume). Means he's planning it for Batman as a title itself rather than getting it tangled up here.

"It was the only way to become the second-best Robin". Yes, this is Tim getting to show off his core competencies - he probably is the only Bat other than Bruce who would have extensively studied all the trophies. Dick would remember a lot of them simply because a lot of the trophies are from old adventures, but pretty much all the others are not particularly retrospective, respect the past sort of members of the group, while Tim has always been surrounded by the shadows of the past. I loved this note.

I haven't talked about Babs yet! She's in green, in glasses, sitting down at her computers with a novelty mug, directing everyone, answering to Oracle. That's her! That's my Oracle!

I do think Bruce expecting Dick to take over running the Batfam right now is a big ask, given he's also running the Titans as the main superhero team on the planet and handling Bludhaven, but Tom Taylor's writing both those books so I don't expect to see the stress catching up with Dick there. Benefits of writer choice right now, I guess. Also personally 'Babs and Dick organise everyone while Bruce has a breakdown elsewhere' is one of my favourite Batfam dynamics so you know, I'm pretty excited if we actually get to see this play out.

New Lazarus Pit in Gotham! This won't be a problem at all.