#aside from the scene with his mom i can barely remember what he did this season

[reachermori]

I continue to break my tumblr hiatus for this show because I'm so annoyed with this stupidity and feel the need to put my thoughts into words.

Apologies for the rant. It's a little all over the place, but I tried to put it in a coherent order. It mostly focuses on hating James and on how I think Ted and Jamie's relationship and arcs were wasted, especially in relation to one another.

If the ending scene is indeed Ted's dream, I think it's even worse in regards to Jamie and Beard. Essentially Ted's "happy" versions of them have them close to their abusers, who have done nothing to deserve it.

The idea that Ted's happy ending for Jamie is him reconnecting with his father, who seems proud of him, is pure projection. That's what Ted wants for himself, but he's also inserting his own good relationship with his father. (Which, if we were getting more episodes I might be okay with as it would be interesting to explore.)

The first two seasons really built up Jamie and Ted to have a good relationship, or at least be important to one another, and I still think they could have had a really powerful impact on one another.

While Jamie has grown a lot and that had a lot to do with Ted's influence, I think he could have had that talk with Ted instead of Roy about how having a positive male influence is important to his continued growth. Ted however, could have learned through Jamie and his struggles with his father's toxicity that it's okay to let go.

I have always been happy with the idea of the show ending with Ted returning to Kansas, because I thought it was important for Ted to learn that it's okay to leave and move on. Ted's biggest internal conflict is his inability to quit things, and I really wanted him to accept that quitting isn't inherently bad. Maybe even have an arc with Henry in a toxic situation that he's sticking with because he knows his dad never quits anything to reinforce to Ted how problematic that mindset is, and decide that it's okay to quit Richmond to be with Henry where he clearly wants to be. (Also I disagree with the idea that Ted has nothing in Kansas besides Henry. I doubt Ted Lasso of all people has no one. He built a community in Richmond in only three years. He'd been in Kansas the entirety of his life up until then, there's no way he has no one. Also, even if he didn't, his relationship with his son is more important and I don't fault him for prioritizing that)

This is where I think Jamie could have helped Ted's arc. They could have had parallel journeys in deciding their father's actions do not have to define them, and I think Jamie could have reached this point first and be the one to impart wisdom on Ted for once. You could even keep the "forgiveness" talk Ted gave to Jamie, and then have Jamie come back after the game and say something that conveys "fuck forgiveness, he doesn't deserve that. But I do need to let go of the pain or I'll just hold myself back from growing. Because I'm done letting him have any influence on who I am."

Instead of getting anything with any nuance or something different than every other abuse plot in any show ever, we just had the ghost of Ted all season. He was barely in this season! Especially with relation to the players. We only had one scene of Ted and Jamie talking as people (instead of talking about football strategies or Zava when the coaches just assumed Jamie was jealous instead of concerned about the team dynamics) and connecting, and it was for Ted to tell Jamie about the importance of forgiveness.

Sorry but abuse isn't something you should just forgive, especially since James isn't making amends. He's getting sober, and we don't know if it was his choice, it could have been court mandated for all we know. Also I said this in my previous post, but addiction doesn't just make you abusive, and it especially doesn't make you facilitate your child being sexually assaulted. So I don't see any world where just getting clean makes James worthy of forgiveness. More importantly is that Ted and Jamie don't know that James is even in rehab when they have this conversation!

It's bad enough that we had to deal with the cliche "forgive him for you" perspective, but now we know it either leads to reconciliation, or at least Ted hopes/thinks it should. I'm not sure which is worse, but Ted thinking they should reconcile when he lacks a lot of knowledge about the depth of abuse Jamie endured is just insane.

I really wonder if Ted knowing about Amsterdam would have changed how he handled everything, since that is - in my opinion - the worst thing we know James has done to Jamie canonically. (Or if he knew about him trying to murder Beard...) Though knowing this show and how this season was written, if there was any discussion about this they would mess it up even more. Like I can just imagine a tangent about how many sex workers are disadvantaged, and how they may not have had a choice either, and diminishing Jamie's trauma AGAIN!

However it shouldn't matter what he knows, it's not like Ted is ignorant to the abuse, he's witnessed it twice. The first time he just walked away, something else I wish the show addressed at any point. Ted only saw what James was willing to do in public, and doesn't seem to have ever considered it being worse in private or when Jamie was younger. Bringing up the first Man City match would have been a good way for Jamie and Ted to fully open up to one another and relate to each other regarding their trauma and how they've let it hold them back.

For a show that emphasizes the relationship between father and sons, they really decided to abandon all the father figure relationships they had, especially Ted with Jamie & Nate.

I actually think it works with Nate, since it's clear Nate and his father's biggest problem was that they just could never be on the same wavelength, and while they can't fix the past, they can now create the bond they always should have had. His father actually acknowledged his wrong doings and apologized, and that level of accountability is missing from James' "redemption". Also Nate's father had a good relationship with his wife and daughter, so it makes it more obvious that his and Nate's issues are due to a disconnect and not out of malice. James never had a single good character trait until they decided to redeem him out of nowhere in the last two episodes. If we at least had Jamie say something like "my dad was great before drinking" it would have at least made the rehab stuff seem a little more like redemption. But we only have Jamie and his mother talking about how James has always been like this, and will never change.

Just changing a few things to make Ted and Jamie's relationship pay off in this season for both of them, would have done a world of good.

Anyways this has been a little all over so I'll leave it here, but suffice to say, I disliked the finale...

[acewithobsessions]

Headcanon ask game yayyy I love it!

I’m thinking what if Thomas went back to his parents’ house to tell his dad and mom he was leaving Britain forever to live with his partner in America. Because he knew he would never see them alive again. Although he very much knew his father would deny him once more, he just hoped maybe in his father’s twilight years, he would finally accept who his son was.

In my mind, Thomas really craved his father’s approval more than anything. That was projected to Carson since Downton became his home. But all was rooted in his father. So he wanted to have this one last chance to turn things around. Because Thomas knew that this was the only way he could truly accept himself, no matter what others think of him now.

I think when you watch Thomas’ expressions, even when he was invited back to be the butler, or when he smiled at Guy after he resigned, you can still see there was a glimpse of sadness behind his eyes. Maybe that was why.

So, do you think Thomas and his father could be reconciled with each other? And how about his mother? I think she would be more accepting (or perhaps she didn’t really care much idk)? Somehow I got the idea that Thomas was the only boy in the Barrow family so it mattered more to his father. Anyway, please tell me what you think <3

Oh man YES!!!!! (For some reason, as soon as you said it, I pictured the scene from les mis where Marius asks his dad for permission to marry Cosette??)

That part about Carson? Yes, PREACH. I love love love it when people pick up on this. It's one of the most fascinating bits of his character, imo.

Ok so in my personal headcanon, the reason he started work a bit later than was typical (he did this right??) is because his mother died, meaning there was no longer any sense of security at home. (Also because from what I remember, he talks about her in the past tense.) But if she were still alive, that adds even more layers to the whole thing. I'll have to set aside half an hour of my usual pacing to think about this lol

I'd imagine he shows up to their house kind of stiff, with a sort of "f*ck it" attitude. Guy's not there. He understands that this is something Thomas has to do by himself, and Thomas wasn't exactly eager to let him meet his parents, either.

There's no small talk -- he barely even comes inside. He just finds his parents and deadpans, "I'm leaving."

"What?" his mother asks, a little bit breathless.

"I'm leaving," he repeats. "I've got a beau and I'm going to America with him."

There's a familiar flash of anger across his father's face, but he looks so tired that it swallows it right up. He stands up and leaves. For a second, Thomas wonders if he's found ways to keep his thunderstorm inside, to stop it from raging and having the lightning strike others. He wonders if it makes a difference. It doesn't, he decides, but all the same, it's good to know.

(He wonders if he knows just how much the storm can hurt you when it is stuck inside.)

His mother asks him questions until she is satisfied. She doesn't approve, he knows that. But she knows her son is happy, and maybe enough of her cares that her disapproval isn't the most important thing to her anymore.

He finds his father leaning over the table, staring into space. He starts into his pre-prepared spiel - I'm sorry if I've disappointed you, this is who I am, blah blah etc - but his father cuts him off.

"I'm not happy for you." He still won't look up. "But truth be told, I don't think I'd have been happy for you if you'd settled down like the rest of us. I don't think I'd have been happy with anyone." Finally, finally, he looks up. They have the same eyes. How has Thomas never noticed this before? "You survived me. I guess that's as close to close as we're going to get."

Is he high? Maybe he's drunk. He looks sober enough, but Thomas can't connect this person with the image of his father he has in his mind.

Thomas leaves without feeling as though anything's been accomplished, but nothing got worse. Pick your battles and all that. Just as he's leaving, he thinks that maybe, maybe, his father's storm has blown itself out.

Ough, sorry, I wasn't actually trying to write anything. Anyways, all in all, I'd absolutely love to see this kinda thing, whether it goes horribly or not. (Tbh, I think his dad being so articulate in this iteration points to how he's been thinking about this for a while. Which is probably optimistic. So this is one of the better situations...)

Tysm for the ask!! Wonderful idea :D

[diazevan]

I think the Buckley siblings are definitely upper class and they never really had to worry about money. Not because of the down payment on the house, because of everything. We know Buck had college money and he spent them on his bike and going around the world to find yourself is not really something people who struggle with money do. Also I think both SEAL training and FIRE academy aren’t free and that’s not really something you can pay with bartending tips. Buck entire lifestyle is very rich kid coded: moving out of a house you don’t pay to an apartment you rent for sentimental reasons, planning hot balloon dates, suing the LAFD (lawyers are very expensive) and his whole vibe.

Sorry, this answer is long! 9-1-1 isn't particularly known for its accuracy regarding the earnings of first responders. We forgive that because it's fictional.

Update: According to their website, All LAFD programs are free aside from the $73 signup fee and also states, 'The Department does not charge for any of our recruitment and mentoring services.'

The Buckley siblings are not trustfund babies. I’m not saying their parents aren't well-off, I don’t doubt that, but it doesn't mean they shared their wealth with their adult children (until helping Madney with the deposit.) I’m saying ‘adult’ because I believe while they were growing up, the parents funded everything parents are expected to: clothes, food, etc.

Let’s work with what we know. In Buck Begins, Maddie says ‘I'm gonna go nights so I can work during the day, pay for it myself. That way, I won't need to ask Mom and Dad for anything ever again.” I’m guessing that despite their parents doing their bare minimum of what is expected, they weren’t too kind about it, highlighted by how Maddie says this line. She knows she’ll either not get the financial support from her parents, in becoming a nurse, or they’ll complain about it if they do.  So, she goes it alone, deciding to almost work twenty-four days so she doesn’t have to ask them for money!

In 4x04, while arguing with his parents, he says this, “She married Doug, and you cut her off.” Maddie was married to Doug for eleven years, that’s eleven years no contact with her parents, after they cut her off. Cut off contact, and likely cut any kind of financial support. They wanted nothing to do with her, as Buck repeatedly points out in this scene.

What about Boston? I’ve seen that so many times on twitter. How did Maddie afford to live in Boston for six months and get expensive medical treatment? Doug’s life insurance. She received $400, 000. She says in 5x13, “I used most of my savings when I left,” which matches the belief that she used this money to fund her care in Boston.

Now, you’re right about Buck’s college tuition money. “Maybe you use your tuition money to make some cool modifications on your bike.” We don’t know for sure if this was entirely funded by his parents or if he had student loans. Since I am British, all I know about college is from movies, apparently some parents will keep college funds aside from their children as standard. So perhaps, yes, he did have a tuition fee paid by his parents, which maybe is why he rebelled.  Remember this is young, angry and restless Buck, he was likely to burn through that money like it meant nothing, because being reckless or getting hurt, was his way of gaining his parents attention.

But more importantly, is what happened next. When Buck leaves Hershey, Maddie gives him her Jeep and some of her own money. “Look, I can give you a little bit of money to get started, and then you can go anywhere you want.” It is Maddie who funds Buck’s ticket out of that house, giving up her two means of escape. Savings she had, from working her arse off in Boston and as a nurse! Now, Buck’s dynamic with his sister, is so different to his parents. He likely kept that money very safe and was incredibly frugal because Maddie gave it to him. So, it was more special.

Quite explicitly, we see that Buck never settles down when he’s on the road. He goes, from one place, to the next, to the next. Picking up many jobs. Likely couch surfing, sleeping in the jeep, or cheap motels, Buck didn’t have hefty bills to pay! He could save up, on the road.  All those years of traveling around, and saving would fund NAVY Seals and Firefighter training. What also helped, is he lived in a Frat House, not making him financially liable for all the bills, which were split evenly across all the guys. Then he lived in Abby’s apartment, where once again, he wasn’t paying any bills. With a fireman’s salary, while living in a frat house, and sharing the bills, he likely found it easier to save. Making it easier to fund a hot air balloon ride, a nice studio apartment, and then a lawyer!

They do call Buck's place a "frat house," but I'm not sure how true that was, but if it was an actual frat house and he didn't make any payments, that's more savings. But I don't think he wanted to stay in the frat house.

Buck also couch-surfed in LA! He lived with Chimney and then Maddie, for a considerable amount of time before ever moving into his apartment. Time he likely spent saving.

Anyway, that’s what we know. I still can’t ever believe the Buckley parents ever set up trustfunds. Neither Maddie nor Buck saw a dime after they left or were cut off. Not until more recently now that the Buckley Parents are attempting to make an effort. Still, Buck and Maddie grew up self-efficient, relying on each other, not their parents.

On an unrelated note, I would be interested to see a storyline of when one of their parents passes away though. If they do get left with money, I wonder if it would strike up the argument that money doesn't fix all the problems and neglect they experienced during their childhood and beyond.

[eomma-jpeg]

Fir the unusual asks!! BTS and perspective flip of your choosing for in the meadow!

you won't be up for a few more hours, but I finished this just barely and I've got a busy schedule today so here you go!

ty for sending this I seriously had sm fun

want to send in an unusal ask? here are the prompts !

BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from in the meadow

The bench !!!

Okay, since I know you enjoy the bench scene in chapter 8, squid, I decided to go back and see what I remembered. I’m gonna do a kind of play by play to stick with the DVD commentary theme, starting at the final chunk when Milly recaps her daily routine (after the Roberto altercation).

So, because this hasn’t come much into play yet, but the line:

“Milly was relieved she wouldn’t have to shoulder all that work herself.”

Was super intentional. It is kind of a character choice I made for Milly in this story, but she takes on responsibility that isn’t hers, and we’ll see this later in the story.

This section and chapter in general is where I introduced that the boys heal really quickly, and I do wish to this day that I had included more plant stuff, but i’ve also decided its never too late to introduce the cosmic horror or just pretty wings into the story

Oh my gosh i forgot how much of a brat I made knives in the beginning. He’s so scared and angry and of course he’s gonna take it out on Milly, but he’s also going to hold back because of that fear…. What a silly little traumatized man.

I loved writing Milly as she just got so excited when Knives would do ANYTHING. He’s moving? Perfect. He’s speaking in full sentences? Perfect. He’s looking me in the eye? PERFECT.

 Another character building line!

“…but Milly was trained in the art of reading expressions–a byproduct of being the mediator in her large family.”

So much happens in just two weeks time GEEZ

I think I could have done better at explaining how Milly feels about Knives’ personal crises. She’s so observant and has known the whole time that he’s suffering, but she had to put that fixing aside in favor of him gaining his strength back.

I think Milly has some anxiety that she has learned how to process well over the years, but its kind of manifested in weird habits (specifically popping her knuckles)

I really like this line vvv

“Milly could have screamed in frustration, but the tension surrounding them was so thick it probably would have silenced her.”

I also still think this line is hilarious, because at this moment, Milly is NOT thinking about Vash at all. During their physical therapy sessions she hardly notices him, except when Knives is being a little brat or when Milly goes to leave

“The ability to work his own muscles was a relief to both Milly and Knives. And Vash, she guessed.”

Milly is always watching, always learning, and always observing others for information. She may not do anything with it, but I think her upbringing had her kind of mediating her siblings and her nieces and nephews. This just resulted in her being able to read anyone, and gave her the ability to watch without being noticed. That way, she can see that Mr. “I can’t hold a poker face to save my life” Knives for what he truly is.

I was laying in bed when I thought of this scene, and i just loved the idea of powerful strongwoman Milly Thompson absolutely overpowering Millions Knives simply because he let himself wither away in self loathing, and she is determined to fix that.

And i liked the idea of him flailing and cursing her out for being nice. 

So I did base the cilantro bit off of personal experience. My mom grew cilantro in her garden earlier this year and informed me that after they go to seed they just go crazy, and anytime I would go into the yard and the wind would blow, it smelt SO MUCH LIKE CILANTRO IT WAS CRAZY. Apologies to those who have the bad cilantro gene!

“What…” his voice was soft, reluctant, “What is that smell?”

Oooo! This is the first time Knives truly addresses her!

Oh my gosh I forgot about this… its not important but its kind of a nice world building thing I could keep referencing.

“Her father was the resident composter, taking their food scraps and monitoring their decomposing process in his–admittedly gorgeous–enclosed composting system.”

Hehehe apple tree apple tree

I kind of have a rotation in my brain for the apple tree. They have four harvests every year, and the apple tree is fruiting every other time.

Oh gosh I just made my heart skip reading their conversation, i’m so silly about my own fic.

Cheesy dumb silly line that i love so much

“Besides, sunshine is one of the best medicines”

So I think I mentioned this when squid drew me that lovely and perfect and beautiful drawing of Knives and Milly at the end of this chapter, but I had this moment planned from the beginning. In my mind, it was the first step in Knives being like “Hey, I just had a human provide SOME genuine emotional care for me since Rem, and it feels weird”. Its that turning point, or at least the beginning of something.

Perspective Flip: I’ll write a scene from in the meadow from another character’s point-of-view

Oh geez, uuhh Vash carrying Meryl to bed in chapter 19 but from Meryl's perspective 

Meryl went from uncomfortably half-asleep with her cheek pressed against her seat's headrest, to snuggling against what she considered to be the perfect pillow. She wasn't sure what it was made of or how it got below her head, but it was solid and warm, and she could hear a faint but steady heartbeat beneath. Meryl knew then that she'd never find anything better.

And then, she was moving. 

It was slow, careful movement, but she could feel it nonetheless. She didn't mind it, the gentle breeze was welcome and whatever was carrying her had her wrapped up securely in its grasp, strong arms supporting her back and underneath her knees. She leaned into the pillow, the starchy fabric rubbing against her cheek, and she hummed quietly. 

It was overwhelming, the powerful hold sleep had on her. It felt like sand from the dunes was rolling over her, blown in with a hot Eastern wind. Meryl wasn't forming any coherent thoughts to begin with, and the newfound bed she was in was providing her with all the right circumstances to insure it stayed that way.

Her careful ears swore they heard some strange creaks, but Meryl opted to focus on that heartbeat from earlier. It resonated with her own, the two patterns matching and keeping time together. Meryl couldn't help but smile. 

That final crest of sleep was ready to crash over her when one of the steady limbs beneath her shifted, knocking her out of that blissful state. Meryl whined at the change, then a gentle voice from above calmed her, luring her back into peaceful rest with a gentle brush of warm air. She immediately complied, her beloved pillow providing solace.

Finally, she had stopped moving. Her mystery mode of transportation had ended its journey and Meryl chose this as the perfect opportunity to finally surrender completely. Nuzzling into her cradle, Meryl didn't bother with smells or touch (except that this warm pseudo-bed smelled just like home), she just allowed all of her muscles to relax as sleep beckoned her fully. In return, her place of rest squeezed tighter around her, and Meryl felt her chest warm, desperate to keep it this way forever. 

It was starting to get annoying, but right as she nearly descended into unconsciousness, the warmth was disappearing, being pulled away from her. That beloved pillow no longer cradled her head.

No no no

Her sleep addled brain had enough cognizance to reach out, and Meryl grasped at whatever she could. Finding purchase in some stiff, wrinkled fabric, Meryl knew the feel: it was her pillow, and she held tight. Pulling with all her might, Meryl figured it would've been easy. She was small, but she was strong, and she wanted to go back. She wanted to return to whatever had been holding her so carefully, whatever had cradled her in its arms.

Then, it was warm again, the heat returning as something brushed her cheek and the edge of her ear.

"You need to go to sleep in a bed, Meryl," a voice whispered, a familiar voice.

A very familiar voice.

Why did she need to sleep in a bed when Vash was right here? He was perfect for her to curl up into, and he was more comforting than any actual bed she'd ever slept in. She tried again to pull into his chest, but it was a futile effort; she was weak against the powerful force of sleep and Vash's wishes for her.

Relenting her grasp, Meryl nearly felt like crying as the warmth of his body completely disappeared, separated by a quilt that might as well have been a brick wall between them. Meryl did, however, enjoy the plush feeling of a real pillow beneath her head. Her bed began to adjust to her weight, sinking and molding to her frame, but Meryl couldn't help but miss the way that Vash's arms were already the perfect size. 

Meryl tried to sleep, tried to welcome those waves to wash over and drag her into oblivion, but it wouldn't come.

Then, grateful she hadn't succumbed, a hand--his hand--ran through her hair. Relief flooded her at the barest touch, the return of his natural heat soothing her so completely. Meryl sighed, her heart rate calming.

Sometime poked her mind, something that had bothered her before she slept, but she couldn't remember what.

His hand pulled away, and Meryl wanted to scream, demand he put it back, but her body was unwilling. Instead, she focused all of her remaining mental energy on that thought, the one that she had forgotten. 

Oh.

Her voice was creaky, sleepy sounding as she attempted her question, "Hey, Vash?"

Silence followed, and Meryl feared that he had already left. Desperate to peek, her eyelids were so heavy, and anything she tried to see was just shades of darkness.

Finally, he answered, "Yeah, Meryl?"

She wanted to smile, show she was glad he was still nearby, "Did you miss me?"

Another pause.

"Yeah," he replied quietly, "I did."

Something akin to satisfaction filled Meryl as she finally let go of all connection to consciousness. 

"Knew it."

[velvet-ink]

For the First Time, For the Last Time

A tragedy AU inspired by one anon’s terribly sad dream, in which Carlos dies during the break-up, and TK is left reeling in the aftermath that is months of buried feelings, the unexpected inheritance of the loft, and an uncomfortable revelation that Carlos never passed on the news of their break-up to his family.

Snippet below:

"Dad? What are you doing here?" 

"Hey, I uh…wanted to come by and see you." Owen's mouth curves into a tight smile that looks as forced as it probably feels, and only fleetingly meets TK's eyes before glancing past him, resolutely focused on something in the background. He clears his throat when TK doesn't show any sign of moving. 

"Oh, sorry," TK kicks the shoes laying haphazardly by the front door into a pile as he shuffles aside. "Come on in."

He returns to the kitchen, pulling out two glasses from the cupboard. "Can I get you something to drink? Water?" He supplies, realizing there's not much more than that to offer.

Owen politely accepts and seats himself at the edge of the sofa. There's a seriousness in the way he's carrying himself—shoulders taut, elbows perched on his knees, hands clasped together—a stark image to the ease with which he sat back, laughing and cheering only a week ago when they watched a game together in that same spot. 

"Can we sit for a moment?"

TK's hand stills over the tap, bottom lip working its way between his teeth. And there it is, he thinks. There's always a purpose.

It’s not lost on him that the question was spoken in the same tone as the ever tragic "we need to talk", which paired with a surprise visit, surely can't equate to anything good. 

"What's going on, Dad?" He asks cautiously, feet still rooted to their spot in the kitchen. "Is mom okay? Did something happen to Jonah?" 

"Yes, no–" Owen's face falls as he closes his eyes and shakes his head, "They're both fine. Your mom and brother are okay."

There's an uncomfortable beat, and dread starts to creep under TK's skin as he waits for the impending bomb to drop. "Is it you?" 

His dad runs his palms along the length of his thighs, nodding for TK to take the seat next to him. He sucks in a deep breath before finally meeting TK's gaze, "There's no easy way to tell you this." He pauses, and TK starts to hate the steady, measured way his dad delivers bad news. After years of practice, TK can barely remember so much as a falter, a crack, a slip of emotion to hint at how truly awful the words streaming out of his mouth would be. In the same careful and collected way TK has heard his dad speak to victims at a scene, Owen voices three very unexpected words. "Carlos is gone.”

The name catches him off guard.

It's so far from where TK thought this conversation was heading that it takes a few seconds to grasp what's actually been placed in front of him. His mom is okay. Nothing has happened to his brother. While the last question may have gone unanswered, for all intents and purposes, his dad is doing fine.

Carlos is gone.

He eyes his dad warily, the sentence tugging at a raw, dull ache in his heart. Carlos is a topic he's made abundantly clear he doesn't want to talk about, and in his mind, it certainly isn't one that warrants an impromptu visit. Owen, and the rest of the team for that matter, have tried broaching the subject a couple of times in the wake of their break-up, digging for information that really wasn't any of their business. 

Why did it end? Who ended it? What could have been so bad it led to this? Countless questions TK had no interest in answering.

After only being met with short, icy responses, they pretty much dropped it altogether. That was the end of it. Or at least, TK thought that had been the end of it. 

The thing is, TK knows he should have spoken to Carlos after he walked out of what was meant to be their loft. He knows leaving with an, "I don't think I can do this anymore," was a pathetic cop out—a lousy one at that—a way to run away without actually addressing any semblance of the problem. 

But each time he saw Carlos he couldn't bear to face him. Not when he looked so tired, so worn out, his eyes shining in a way that took TK's breath away with their beauty, yet lacked the sparkle which had once permanently resided there. Suddenly too much time had passed and it felt like TK missed his chance. The ship had sailed without him.

TK is all too well aware of this in fact, and his dad showing up unannounced, wielding Carlos' name, was simply another harsh reminder of just how badly he had fucked everything up.

"Okay…" his eyes narrow in suspicion, “Gone where?”

Owen only stares back, confusion slowly morphing into an array of pain and sympathy as he patiently waits for TK to slot the pieces together. "TK…"

"What?" He retorts, frustrated to be dancing around this conversation.

Owen lets out a heavy sigh, and TK immediately regrets his tone as he notices the exhaustion etched deep in the creases of his dad's face, hears the weight of it seep into his voice, and finally sees what he’s been missing. “Carlos...he’s dead.”

[anonymousqualities]

Gregory Coma AU

Too lazy to write a fic but I have to get the idea out of my head.

Basically the plot of the game is all in Gregory's head

He's put under a medically-induced coma after an accident at the pizza-plex. While under, his mind projects his real life:

Note: everyone is human

-

-

Gregory was adopted by Freddy & Bonnie when he was a baby. As he got older, his half-sister, Vanessa comes into his life. There was a while she tried to get custody of Gregory but she was deemed unfit due to her mental health. It was also ordered that she stay away from Gregory and can only see him under supervision. They only share a mom and Gregory knows that Vanessa's dad wasn't a good person. He always feels uncomfortable around her but tells his parents he want to try because of their familial ties.

His parents are well-known and their band still exists. Gregory grew up following his parents on tour and he sees the other band-mates as his aunts and uncles. When it was time for him to start school, they bought a house and Bonnie stayed at home with gregory. Occasionally Gregory has a babysitter (sunny) when bonny had to work (he's a manager for other bands)

Bonnie's spot is taken by Monty (Freddy's ex but they stayed friends) Bonnie and him rarely see eye to eye. They often argue (97% of the time Monty starts it because he's jealous of Freddy & Bonnie's relationship). One time it got really bad and monty ended up trashing his dressing room while Gregory was with them on tour. Freddy warned monty to get his anger in check or he gets kicked out the band. To this day, Bonnie still feels guilty that his son had to witness that.

A recent tour ends and freddy can spend time with his family. He always makes up for lost time but unfortunately, at this time their schedules don't align and bonnie has to leave for work. It's just for 6 days though so it's just him and gregory until then.

It's summer so their able to spend alot of time together to Gregory's excitement. They decide to go to a local pizza-plex (with animatronics although different names and looks) with his aunts tagging along.

Gregory likes the place because aside from it being fun, the bear mascot reminds him of his dad. He remembers Uncle monty saying that his dad was "definitely a bear" which left Gregory confused. Although, he remembers how deadly the glare, Bonnie gave Monty was so he assumed it was another one of his uncle's inappropriate jokes.

M: "Damn, relax! It was a joke!!"

F: *sighs* "guys-"

B: "Not a joke I want said around, Gregory. And watch your fucking mouth!"

F: *sighing intensifies* "babe.."

Unfortunately, this particular day went south when they ran into Vanessa. from his spot in line for the go-kart, gregory noticed she had that weird look on her face that she got at times. Papa said sometimes she had moments where she "wasn't herself" and during these times, she liked to be called, "Vanny"

Gregory didn't really understand it. He knew his sister saw a therapist so he assumed it was connected to that.

His aunt roxy had followed him in line, while aunt chica went to go get them food. She tried to reassure him everything was okay but he couldn't help being nervous. Even though his dad was keeping his cool, "vanny" was yelling at him causing a scene. Even over the indoor playground's loud atmosphere, Gregory could make out enough of what she was saying, Knowing she was attempting to blame his dad again for keeping them apart.

Even with his aunt's comforting words, he barely registered the attendant ushering him to his kart. He felt like he was on auto-pilot as he drove around the track. What did get his attention was the panicked screams of the other patron but specifically the attendant

"Hey, you can't be on the track!!"

Gregory had zero time to react as Vanessa jumped over the barriers to right in his path. He immediately swerved to avoid crashing into her but ended up hitting the barrier. The momentum sent him flying with his head slamming hard into a nearby wall.

Aside from the pain and the yells of panic, Gregory was vaguely aware of the familiar feeling of his dad picking him up and holding him close. The sound of Freddy's comforting voice the last thing he hears before everything goes black.

Note: Angst with happy ending. So gregory does wake up 💕

-

-

Part 2:

https://anonymousqualities.tumblr.com/post/671739643372453888/gregory-coma-au-part-2

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

[fanfic-chan]

Hi! A prompt, if you don't mind. Since there's not many content with Todoroki siblings, maybe some family bonding with lee Shoto and lers Natsuo and Fuyumi. Like, Shoto finally feels comfortable and close to them enough for cuddles and affection, and they realise their baby brother is touch-starved (and unexpectedly ticklish)

I- I cannot even put into words how much I enjoyed this prompt! I absolutely loved every minute of writing this and I'm so glad you decided to send it to me! Poor Shouto is so touch starved and I love every opportunity I get to give him some much needed love! I really hope you guys like it!^^

Better Late than Never

Lers: Fuyumi and Natsuo Todoroki

Lee: Shouto Todoroki

"Hey. Can you guys tickle me?"

Fuyumi couldn't even blame Natsuo when he promptly started choking on the soda he'd been drinking in surprise. Of all the things that she would have expected her socially inept younger brother to say, it certainly wasn't that.

The three of them had been hanging out in the living room together, watching some animated movies that Shouto had borrowed from one of his classmates, Izuku Midoriya. That green haired kid that he'd fought during the UA Sports Festival. 

Apparently, their youngest sibling had been doing some 'research' as he put it, on sibling bonding techniques, and had been interviewing a few of his classmates to figure out what they liked to do with their siblings. Tonight he'd suggested the three of them have a family movie night while their father was away on a business trip and he had some time off from school, an idea he'd gotten from his classmate, Hanta Sero.

Ecstatic that their little brother finally seemed ready to open up to them, they immediately agreed, and the three of them were currently cuddled up together in the impromptu blanket fort that Shouto had insisted was a must when it came to a proper family movie night because, 'Sero said so.'

And so it was.

Admittedly, things had been going pretty well up until now, when their stoic peppermint of a little brother had turned to them, family bonding list in hand, and had asked, in the most blank tone possible, if they could tickle him of all things.

"Shouto, um, if you don't mind me asking, what brought on that question?" Fuyumi asked after a moment, patting Natsuo's back firmly while he still struggled to catch his breath after almost drowning himself in Fanta. Shouto didn't even bat an eye at his older brother's near death experience, and instead kept his expression carefully emotionless. However, he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt slightly, as if he might be nervous.

"Oh. Well, Kirishima said he likes to bond with his younger siblings by tickling them. I'm the youngest, so I just thought maybe that's how it was supposed to go and that maybe we could do that too." He explained calmly, though there was a tad bit of barely noticeable apprehension there as well. "Is that… Wrong?" He asked hesitantly, tilting his head and taking on a rare expression of clear confusion as he started flipping through his notes again. Fuyumi couldn't decide whether the sight was adorable or flat out hilarious. Heck. Maybe it was a little of both.

"Oh! No! No of course it's not wrong! Just.. a little unexpected? I guess it's just surprising! Not bad though. It's good actually! Really good!" She answered hurriedly, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of trust Shouto was showing. He'd never really gotten the chance to bond with them properly when they were little, and his social skills definitely left something to be desired, so for him to be purposefully seeking out the opportunity to do normal siblings things with them? Especially things like physical displays of affection? Well, that was a pretty big deal.

He looked up at her and blinked, relaxing after a moment and setting his notes aside, seemingly satisfied with her hasty explanation.

"Oh." He said after a pause. "So.. You'll.. You'll do it then?" He asked quietly, and if she didn't know any better, it looked like he might even be blushing. Fuyumi couldn't help allowing herself a fond smile. When had her little brother gotten so adorable dang it?! There was definitely no way she could say no to that! 

Rather than giving a verbal answer right away though, she instead let her expression morph into something a tad more mischievous and looked over at Natsuo, who had by some miracle managed to recover from his coughing fit. "Hey Natsu? Remember that thing Touya used to do to us when we were kids?" She asked with a smirk, suddenly scooping up their little brother from behind and pulling him into her lap when he wasn't looking, catching him off guard. She quickly wrapped her arms around his torso, trapping him effectively while simultaneously preventing him from being able to bring his arms all the way down, leaving him exposed.

Natsuo looked just as confused as Shouto did for a moment before realization suddenly seemed to hit him. Back when they were younger, sometimes Touya would scoop one of them up into his lap and trap them there, then he'd warningly tell them, "Don't laugh or flinch at all or else~" and wiggle his fingers just above their stomach, occasionally pretending to dip his hand down before bringing it back up again. This would go on until eventually they'd break and he'd finally start clawing into their sides or ribs or armpits. It was never the same spot, and so the inability to guess or prepare for it always made it so much worse. They loved it, and hopefully, so would Shouto now that he would actually have a chance to play. 

He smiled slightly at the memory before crawling over to sit in front of his two siblings, the younger of them looking more than a little confused. "Um. What are you two doing? What did Touya used to do?" He asked, voice deceptively calm even as an anxious smile was starting to pull at his lips. Just because he'd never been allowed to participate didn't mean he hadn't seen his siblings playing this game before, and he had to admit, it was kind of exciting to finally be a part of it, even if he was a bit nervous.

"What do you mean 'what are we doing'? You wanted us to tickle you right? So what better time than now to teach our dear little Shouto about our favorite tickle game hm?" Fuyumi teased, making him squirm a bit in anticipation as he watched Natsuo slowly move his hands toward his stomach, which he sucked in instinctively.

"The rules are simple." Fuyumi began, "Don't laugh,"

"Or flinch at all-" Natsuo joined.

"Or else~" They finished together, and with that, the game had begun.

Shouto held up pretty good for about seven minutes. After all, due to both his extensive training on self control as a child and the countless tickle fights he'd already gotten into with his classmates back at the dorms, he'd managed to build up a fair amount of resistance, and he remained stubbornly quiet and still no matter how many times Natsuo tried to catch him off guard. That is until Fuyumi decided to cheat by pinching his side right at the exact moment Natsuo decided to bring his hand down again, and he arched his back in surprise right into his older brother's waiting fingers.

"GYAH- Ahahahahaha! No! Nohoho wait!! Fuyuhuhumi you cheheheheater!!!" He laughed, collapsing into his sister's chest as Natsuo started digging into his sides. "Cheater? Me? Are you hearing this Natsu? Shouto's accusing me of being a cheater! The nerve!" Fuyumi exclaimed, feigning outrage as she joined in by scribbling her fingers over his ribs and into his armpits, making him squeal adorably. By now, he'd been squirming around so much that his head had ended up cradled in her lap, giving her a perfect view of his joyful smile. The sight of her little brother, so happy and carefree in this moment, it almost brought her to tears, and she couldn't resist the urge to discretely snap a few quick pictures of the scene with her phone, both as a keepsake and to send to their mom later along with the others she'd gotten throughout the night.

"NONONONO!! NOT THEHEHERE! NOT THE FEET NATSUHUHU!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Shouto honestly couldn't remember a time he'd felt this much joy. Tickle fights with his classmates were always fun, sure, but this? This level of closeness and affection being shared between him and his siblings right now? It was like having a hole filled that had been empty for far to long. He never wanted it to stop. 

"What? Not here? Why not? Is someone a little sensitive riiight here~?" 

"YEHEHEHES! I AHAHAM! PLEASE! PLEAHEASE STAHAHAHAP!!! I'M DONE FOR NOHOHOW!!""

Okay he didn't want it to stop, but maybe, um, maybe he did need to breathe though. His siblings seem to recognize this as well and quickly let up. He shot them both a grateful smile as he curled into a ball on his side, still giggling. This time, Natsuo was the one who couldn't resist the urge to record it.

"I.. I love you... Guys.." Shouto mumbled between giggles, and they both froze. Did- Did he really just?...

Shouto barely had time to process what was happening before he was literally being crushed in a bear hug between his two siblings, and despite his sudden inability to breathe again, he returned the embrace happily because maybe.. Maybe this is what he'd been missing all along.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The booming clap of thunder and the steady drumming of rain hitting the windows can be heard. The poor girl sat before us, shaking, her breath heavy and ragged. She was now wearing Mike's jacket; he had given it to her when we found her shivering in the rain. The four of us stood in front of her, gazing at her in awe and bewilderment. Lucas and Mike were to my right, Dustin on my left. Mike finally broke the silence.

"Is there a number we can call for your parents?"

"Where's your hair? Do you have cancer?"

"Dustin," I warn. Although, I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind.

Before I can stop them, the boys continue to ask her all sorts of questions without even giving her a chance to answer.

"Did you run away?"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Is that blood?" Lucas slowly extends his arm towards the girl's face; before I can stop him, Mike beats me to it and smacks his arm away.

"Stop it! You're freaking her out!"

"She's freaking me out!"

"I bet she's deaf." Dustin then turns to look at the girl and quickly claps his hands in her face and she flinches back, clearly even more frightened, if that is at all possible.

"Not deaf." He says weakly, shrugging his shoulders.

I draw the line there. "Dustin, seriously? Do you not hear yourself? How would you feel in her position, huh?"

"Y/n's right, okay? Enough, both of you." Mike defended me and looked to Dustin and Lucas as he spoke. "She's just scared and cold." He pointed in the girl's direction as he said this.

Hearing him say that made me realize she was still in nothing but a soaking wet t-shirt and Mike's jacket. I turn to Mike. "We should probably get her some fresh clothes. Do you have any down here?" I ask.

Mike nods and heads towards a laundry basket across the room. I look back at the girl and I see her close her eyes and flinch, shrinking into herself a little as another clap of thunder boomed from outside. I cautiously took a step around to the side of the coffee table and took a seat on the edge so I was near her eye level but not so close I was invading her space.

"Hey, it's okay," I try, my voice gentle. "It's just thunder. You're gonna be okay. You're safe now."

I send her a warm, reassuring smile. She says nothing, but I swear I see gratitude in her eyes.

Mike returns with some fresh clothes.

"Here, these are clean. Okay?" She cautiously takes the clothes from him and looks at them. After a moment she brings them to her face and softly rubs them on her cheek. My sympathy for her grows stronger, who knows how long it has been since she's had a proper set of clothes. She sets them aside and shrugs Mike's jacket off of her shoulders. She rises to her feet, reaching for the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing, clearly about to undress in front of us.

"No, no, no!" We all yell.

I jump to my feet in surprise, ripping my gaze away in panic while also attempting to reach for her hands to keep them in place. Mike tries to do the same, but he's a bit more shaken up. Meanwhile, Dustin and Lucas began freaking out, their heads turned so as to not see anything. Dustin could not stop saying, "Oh, my God!"

"See over there?" Mike points to the bathroom just across the room. "That's the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?" He asks. The girl looks ashamed and confused. She looks to the bathroom and then to me, her eyes pleading. I can tell she's afraid to be alone. I take a quick, deep breath and look at her. "You... want me in there with you?" I ask gently.

She nods and we are all surprised to hear her speak. "Yes."

"Really? Umm," I look to the guys in shock who all wear the same expression as the scene unfolds. Panicking, but also realizing by now she doesn't understand why I would be, I look back to her only to find fear in her eyes and I feel a wave of guilt. A sigh escapes and I nod. "Yeah, uh, okay. I can do that, but, you're still gonna need some privacy, okay?" I grab her clothes off the couch and I lead her to the bathroom and she looks around in curiosity.

I gesture around the bathroom awkwardly, not really knowing what to do.

"Here, I'm not gonna look, but we should close this so they don't accidentally see anything. Okay?" I gesture to the door.

Panic flooded her features, and for the first time since we found her she wore an expression of absolute certainty, speaking for the second time tonight. "No."

"Hey, its okay, it's just so that you can change in privacy. You know, so they don't accidentally see you changing? How about we close it most of the way? That way you have privacy, but you know you can still get out. Does that sound good?" She hesitates then nods her head slightly. I push the door in so it's cracked open.

I handed her Mike's spare set of clothes, doing my best to offer a small smile. "Alright, here you go,"

For a moment I think, just maybe it's okay to slip out and let her change. But then I see the look in here eyes, and it hits truly me why it's so important to her someone stays.

My smile feels a little more genuine now and it almost seems to put her at ease, just a little. "Don't worry, I'll stay."

I cross over to the other side of the bathroom, taking a seat on the closed lid of the toilet with my back turned to her. For extra measure, I even clamped my hand over my eyes, still trying to figure out my day took such a weird turn. I can her start to move around and figure she's started changing, and briefly I think of how scared she looked when the thunder rumbled.

It reminded me of how bad thunder used to scare me as kid; like really bad, and how Mom helped me through it. Even kept me company until I fell asleep, and it all made a little more sense why she asked me. It was the same reason I recognized the look in her eyes almost at once; Anxiety and genuine fear. Like I did when I was a kid, I needed that company around just to know I wasn't alone.

It only makes my mind race with a million different questions but, they're all silenced when I hear voices coming from the other room.

"This is mental." It was Dustin.

"At least she can talk." Mike defended.

"She said 'no' and 'yes.' Your three-year-old sister says more." Lucas counters. I bite my lip, trying not to yell at Lucas. If he heard her say 'no' to me from the bathroom, that obviously means that we can hear him. As much as I love those guys, they can be really insensitive.

"She tried to get naked." Dustin argued."She brought Y/n in there with her!"

I can feel my face heat up and I wish I could melt into a puddle where I sit. At least that way they could just flush me and be done with it.

"It's not like that! She's just scared," Mike defended.

"There's something seriously wrong with her. Like, wrong in the head." Said Lucas.

"She, just went like..." and then I could barely make out the muffled sound of something falling.

"I bet she escaped from Pennhurst."

"From where?" Mike sounded just as exasperated as I was feeling.

"The nuthouse in Kerley County."

"You got a lot of family there?"

"Bite me."

"Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she's so crazy."

"Why she went like..."

"She's an escapee is the point. She's probably a psycho."

"Like Michael Myers."

"Exactly! We should've never brought her here."

"So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?"

"Yes! We went out to find Will, not another problem."

"I think we should tell your mom." Dustin offers.

"I second that."

"Who's crazy now?"

"How is that crazy?"

"'Cause, we weren't supposed to be out tonight, remember?"

"So?"

"So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom..."

"Oh, man."

"Our houses become Alcatraz."

"Exactly. We'll never find Will."

There's a brief silence, and I think about everything I just heard. Mike had a pretty good point. And I don't blame Lucas for being skeptical, I just wish he wouldn't be so harsh sometimes. If I can hear their conversation, that means she can. I can't imagine what she must be going through right now.

"All right, here's the plan. She sleeps here tonight."

"You're letting a girl --"

"Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She'll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We'll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will."

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and I turn around to see the girl had changed. She had sad look on her face and I don't blame her at all.

"Feeling better?" I ask. She meets my eyes for a brief moment and nods, looking back down at her feet.

I sigh and lower my voice into a whisper, trying to undo all the damage the boys just unknowingly caused. "Hey, I'm sorry they said all those things. You'll be in good hands here with that boy Mike; the guy who gave you the clothes, he's really nice, and it sounds like you'll be staying with him."

I stood up, eyeing the door and my friends who I could barely see through the slat we left open and I turned back to her.

"By the way... You don't have to answer any of those questions if you're not ready. That was unfair of them to do that. If you ever need anything... or someone to talk to, even after we get everything sorted out, well, I'm here." I shrug, giving her a reassuring smile before opening the door, leading her out of the bathroom.

Lucas and Dustin were standing at the bottom of the stairs, ready to head out. I follow their gaze to find Mike had made a small fort for the girl.

Mike was helping the girl get settled inside. "Here you go. This is my sleeping bag."

"You really think she's psycho?" Dustin whispered.

"Wouldn't want her in my house." Before Lucas could head up the stairs I spoke up.

"We heard everything."

Lucas and Dustin stopped and looked at me, worried.

"What?"

"All those nasty things you were saying back there, we heard every word. She heard every word... Just go. Dustin, I'll catch up in a few minutes. Bye." I threw them a flat, angry look as I shook my head and walked away. As I made my way over to the fort I took note of the silence behind me, followed by reluctant footsteps up the stairs.

"Hey, um, I never asked your name." Mike said trying to make conversation. I kneeled down next to Mike.

The girl looks at us both, then without saying anything, she pulls up her left sleeve to reveal a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It read '011'. My eyes widen in shock.

"Woah," I can't help but gasp.

"Is that real?" Mike asks excitedly as he reaches over to touch the tattoo. She quickly retracts her arm and looks at Mike. There's an awkward silence apart from the booming thunder outside.

"Sorry, I've just... never seen a kid with a tattoo before." He apologized sheepishly.

"Can I ask what it means?" I say.

She looks at me and then points a finger towards herself.

"So, that's your name? Eleven?" I confirm.

She nods her head and then looks down at her lap.

"Eleven. Okay." Mike says, perking up. "Um, well, my name's Mike. Short for Michael, and this is my friend Y/n. He's Dustin's brother." Eleven looks over at me and I smile politely, giving her a small wave.

"Maybe we can call you 'El.' Short for Eleven." Mike offers. She nods her head in agreement. There's a silence and I can tell Mike likes her already.

"Um, well, okay," I say, trying to break the silence. "El, it was nice meeting you. And, like I said, if you need anything at all, I'm here. And so is Mikey here, of course," I say, looking over at Mike, giving him a knowing look, a smirk on my face. "Unfortunately, I have to head home so, I'll see you guys later."

I smile and grab my jacket. As i head for the stairs, I turn to both of them and send them a little wave. "Bye!"

Mide nods at me, the girl, El watching curiously as I go. That's the last I see of them as I dissapear up the steps.

I could hear Mike stuttering a 'goodnight' to El as I make it to the top. Clearly, I caught him off guard. I smile to myself, thinking.

'Ohh, he has so got it bad.'

I parked my bike in its usual spot and made it through the front door quiet enough so my mom won't hear.

Most of the lights were turned off, my mom must have gone to bed already just as I suspected. I heard an obnoxious meowing near my feet and look down to see Mews. I kneel down and pet this attention starved cat knowing that's the only way she will ever quiet down. I don't know how she can be attention starved when Mom doted on her as much as she does.

Mews lets out a deep purr and leans into my hand as I give her head a few scratches. I take off my shoes and set them by the front door before sneaking back into my room.

I flip on the light switch and stare at my slightly messy room and sigh at the events of today. I close my door so I can change into my pj's and tidy up a bit. Once I'm done I open my door so it's ajar, knowing that Mews likes to come and go throughout the house as she pleases. I sit down on the side of my bed and sigh heavily.

My eyes are fixed on the floor, particularly the different shadows that were being cast from my lamp on my bedside table as my thoughts wandered back to the fruitless efforts of tonight.

The stress and constant worrying have taken its toll on me. It breaks my heart to know that my best friend is somewhere out there lost and probably hurt. I guess a big part of me was sure that we were going to find Will in those woods out by Mirkwood tonight. I should have known better.

I feel something on my leg and I look down to see tear stains on my pajama bottoms. I hadn't even realized I had started crying. I sniffle, wiping my nose and grab the stuffed duck that was sitting on my bed. Will had won it for me. I give it a tight hug, a small smile creeps its way onto my face at the memory.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

It was the first Saturday of summer vacation and the five of us had gone to the arcade for a much-deserved celebration. We all filed into the arcade, I followed Mike, Dustin, and Lucas as we made our way to Dustin's favorite game Dig Dug, Will and I side by side, buzzing with the excitement of the new summer ahead of us.

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence as we looked around the arcade. We passed by all the familiar games including the infamous claw game. I spare a glance at its contents and notice an adorable bright yellow duck perched in the front of the glass.

I smile and point at the stuffed duck. "Oh! That duck is so cute!" I admired it for a brief moment and catch up with Dustin, assuming Will is still next to me.

( hats off to the folk who understand this reference!! 😎 )

About twenty minutes later I had just beaten Mike's high score on Pac Man. All the boys watched over my shoulder and I couldn't help but cheer out. "Ha! Say, Mike, how does my dust taste?"

"Oh, whatever. You only beat me by," he leans over my shoulder to look at my score. "Holy crap! 1300 points?! Alright, well done." He sighs.

"Hey Will, you owe me 5 bucks!" I turn to my friend only to not see him there. I look around in confusion.

"Wait, guys, where is Will?"

They all shrug.

"I don't know, the last time I saw him he was with you. When we got here." Lucas shrugged.

I look around until I spot the familiar bowl cut by the claw machine. He must have won something since he was leaning down to grab some prize from the machine. I quickly grab my tickets and abandon the machine and meet him by the claw, he made eye contact with me and quickly put his hands behind his back.

"Hey, man. Where have you been? You just missed it. I just annihilated Mike in Pac Man. It was awesome!"

"I, um... Well, I, uh," he scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he stammered.

I breathed out a soft laugh. "Will, it's fine, you're not on trial or anything."

"Well I noticed you seemed to really like that duck and it seemed easy enough, and um, and so yeah, I played a couple rounds and, well here." His words sort of spilled out of his mouth and he quickly pulled out his hand from behind his back and handed me the cute little stuffed duck from earlier. A huge, beaming smile finds it's way onto my face as I take the duck from him.

"Oh, wow!" I gasped as I took the duck from him. "That's awesome, thank you! I love it! Aww, it's so cute!" I gave the duck a big squeeze and held it under my arm.

"Yeah, uh no problem. So you said you beat Mike's score? That's great! By how much?" He seems more relaxed now that he's changed the subject.

"You'll never believe it, 1300 points!" I said smugly.

"No way! Y/n, that's awesome!" He gave me a big smile.

"I know right? Anyways, come on, let's hit up Space Invaders. We've got more records to beat." I motioned towards the machine, but Will doesn't move. His smile only falters. "What's wrong Byers? Come on, we better hurry before someone else gets to it." I give him a smile, silently urging him to come along.

"Yeah, umm about that... I don't have any money left. I um, I kinda spent it all on the claw." He said sheepishly.

"What?" I stare in disbelief. I can't believe he would do that.

"I'm sorry, I just thought that—" he stammered.

"No, Will, hey! I'm not mad!" I soothe as I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"And please, don't be sorry. If anything, I'm sorry. You spent all your money just to get this duck. I know you guys are tight on money right now, and well, I—" I stopped, completely appalled at his actions. "Thank you. That means so much to me. You're amazing." I smile and pull him in for a hug.

The hug lingers for a few moments longer than necessary but not enough to make it too awkward. He was hesitant to let go it seemed. I finally broke the hug and gave him another big grin.

"Come on, I am playing Space Invaders with my favorite person, whether he likes it or not. I've still got a buttload of coins."

"But, you don't have to do that."

"You didn't have to spend all your money getting the duck but you did anyway." I point out. He smiles at this.

"Besides," I continued. "You know me, I'd feel way too guilty if I didn't repay you in some way for the duck. This way, we'll be even. What do you say?" I playfully elbow him.

A big grin breaks out on his face. "Yeah okay, cool. Thanks."

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

I smile fondly as I give the ever so slightly worn duck a squeeze. It quickly became one of my favorite things. A quiet sob escapes my lips as I hug the duck.

"Y/n?" My head shot up to my door to see Dustin poking his head in my room, concern etched on his face.

I sniffle and quickly wipe my nose with the back of my hand as I attempt to stop my sobs.

"Sorry," I mumble, figuring I'd annoyed him.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Dustin asks worriedly, he takes a seat next to me, not before closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, I just," I am unable to hold back another sob, I lean into my brother's shoulder. He wraps an arm around my shoulder as he tries to comfort me.

"Seriously, are you okay? What's the matter?"

"I miss him," I wail. I can feel Dustin's body stiffen for a brief moment at the mention of Will. He sighs and runs his hand up and down my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

"I know," his voice sounds hoarse, like he's trying not to cry. "I miss him too."

"What if, he doesn't come back?" I choke on my sobs.

"You shouldn't talk like that. We'll find him. You know him, he's good at hiding. If something did get him, you just know he's hiding. That's why the clever bastard never bites it in our campaigns, even when we do."

I breathe out a soft chuckle at this. Dustin has a point. It seems no matter what kind of trouble he gets into during our campaigns, he always seems to find a way out. It's become a running joke in our party.

My smile falters. "But what if..."

"Y/n, you can't keep doing this to yourself. No more 'what ifs' it's not healthy, and—"

"Well, I can't help it, Dustin!" I snap, cutting him off. "I just... I just can't. You don't understand. You think I like it when my brain won't stop plaguing me with these god awful scenarios that gnaw at me every second? I can't help it, it's so draining! Why do you think it takes so long to come down from my anxiety attacks?"

My eyes are welling up again and my vision has become blurry. All I can do is look down back at the ground.

Dustin only sighs. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

I sniffle and sigh. "I'm sorry too. It just gets so frustrating not being able to communicate my feelings with people who don't deal with anxiety like I do."

"I just... I just hope he's okay." Hot tears slide down my face as I stare at the wall. I heard a sniffle come from Dustin. We stayed like that for quite some time, longing for our friend.

______________

A//N: I put this in because I think it's important that I share this with you all. I don't ever see any fics with a reader with an anxiety disorder and I thought it was important that I do because as someone who struggles with anxiety and someone who has anxiety attacks all the time, I often feel disconnected from the story, anyway I thought that I should shed some light on the subject as well as let readers with anxiety disorders feel included and represented as well as let you know YOU ARE NOT ALONE AND YOUR DISORDER DOES NOT DEFINE YOU. PLEASE DM ME (A LIVING BREATHING PERSON WITH AN ANXIETY DISORDER) IF ANY OF YOU WANT TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHO STRUGGLES WITH THIS AND/OR YOU WANT TO ASK QUESTIONS TO LEARN MORE.

[saturnsummer]

helpless.

han joon hwi does all he can to save kang sol a. kang sol a, for the first time, realises she’s not alone.

ao3 link

notes: this has been manifesting in me ever since i saw the scene of sol a fainting. i’m sorry it’s so long, but i hope the law school fans like it! it’s my first time, but i’m open to request and improvements. do share with your fellow solhwi fans if you like it! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me.

edit: this is written by @inactiverat , which is MY secondary account. i did not copy this from someone else. both accounts belong to ME. i am republishing this on my primary blog to better manage.

words: 4130 words.

it’s been a terrible day for sol.

forget about a terrible day, it has been a week of horror.

she can’t remember the last time she laid her head on the pillow of her clean sheets and mattress. with her semester test coming on friday, she has spent the entire weekend cramming for her test. she has opted to sleep at her desk for no more than 10 minutes at a time. her eyes sting from the roll-on muscle relief ointment that she rolls on every few hours under her eyes. her head pounds and the only things she has eaten are ramyeon and black coffee. (no sugar, extra shots.)

sol sighs as she fixes another highlighter in her top bun. she’s been staring at the same question for hours. she looks over her desk, hoping to find peace by seeing a sleeping sol b, but only remembers that she went home. her tiger mom’s orders, since “she shouldn’t study with her roommate, who is at the bottom of the cohort.”

sol visibly frowned as she thought of that sentence. she doesn't need to be reminded every minute and second of her life that she’s the worst. that whenever she fails a test, the smarty pants are cheering due to the bell curve. that she barely scrapes through every class. that she blubbers and mutters answers like an idiot in every lecture.

that’s why she works so hard. to show that she doesn't need money or connections to succeed in this school. that a single parented girl, making enough to get by, holding a part time job can be like the rest. for her mom, she tolerated years of violent abuse, yet still being so strong for her children. for dan, who she so desperately misses and wants to find, even though she knows dan may never want to see her. for byeol, the reason why she decided to study law; the only human she loves in this lawless world.

sol knows she’s pushing herself too hard. yeseul made an effort to remind her to sleep via text. bokgi teased her once during a study group after mentioning she looks like a disheveled panda. even professor kim pulled her out of lecture to give her a talk to remind her to eat.

but joon hwi hasn't.

she internally scoffs. she doesn’t expect him to. (what does a second round judicial exam passer want to know about the worst student?) and maybe, she doesn't want him to. she wants to show him she can do it on her own. she can’t count the number of times he helped her with her grades and cases. studying alone without help was the smallest thing she can do to show him her independence.

thus, she found every moment to stay away. well, from him, in particular. she only came to lectures on time, sat at the back (as opposed to next to him) and left immediately. she returns to her dorm to study (ditching study groups with him in it) and only leaves in the odd hours to get drinks and food when she’s absolutely starving. she hears the buzzes and rings from yeseul and joonhwi, but only smiles when they ask about her inactivity. (“it was dead. i must have forgotten to charge it again.”)

she sighs in frustration and stands from her chair, grabbing her phone and keys out to the pantry area. she needed more caffeine, if she was going to survive this night.

what she doesn't expect to see, is han joon hwi, devouring his late night snack of ramyeon at the table. the shuffling of her furry slippers raises his head from his precious bowl.

“you’re still up?” he asks.

it’s too late to turn around and pretend she didn’t see him. so instead, sol just nods silently as opposed to her defensive remarks. joon hwi stops slurping his noodles and sets the bowl aside. preparing to walk to the staircase, his next question freezes sol in her steps.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

his voice is gentle and nowhere near angry. but concerned and fearful, as if he’s done something wrong to upset her. for a moment, sol feels like she’s in her first lecture with professor yang and is left speechless. (only now, there is no where to hide.)

joon hwi wasn’t blind to her actions. he noticed her absence when she didn’t sit next to him in lectures. he noticed that whenever he was there for a study group session, she wouldn’t; but when he would ask the others, they would say she was there for the ones he wasn’t. joon hwi was certain that sol was avoiding him.

and he couldn’t understand why.

until now.

joon hwi’s eyes examine the young woman in front of him. he’s certain that a middle school student could figure this out; kang sol a is overworked. her dark eye circles are prominent, puffy and her bloodshot eyes do nothing but intensify her lack of sleep. he noticed just how pale her lips look, as he walks over to her. how has she gotten skinnier too?

joon hwi’s certain that she’s avoiding him not because of something he said that annoyed her. but because he knows that she doesn’t want him to see her in this state. his eyes soften and heart aches from the amount of effort she's putting in to her tests.

for sol, he knows how much the tests meant. it was like her entire life depended on it. that’s why he always wanted to help her. he didn’t want to see such a talented person fall behind. she has already proven herself worthy with all the cases she has participated in. but joon hwi knows that no matter how many times yeseul or bokgi or him say how smart and talented and how she’s doing great, she will never be satisfied in this cold, competitive prestigious school. she will always think she’s the worst and has no potential.

“sol.” his voice firm and serious. sol swears she felt a chill run down. she mentally braces herself for this conversation that she has tried all means to avoid. only one person dares address her as just ‘sol’.

“when did you last sleep? or eat proper food?” his eyes are serious, yet soft and glassy. his voice is gentle and soothing. she closes her eyes and lets out a silent sigh. she is nowhere the mock court, yet she feels like she has taken the witness stand and the oath. lying is perjury, she hears herself say.

“i’m doing fine. i just need to do well on this test.” she lies through her teeth. well, it’s a half true and a half lie. it’s just up to him to pick out which is the lie and truth. joon hwi isn’t an idiot, and can read her emotions with just a single look. it’s an utter lie.

“i’m getting coffee.” she mutters to herself. it was the whole reason she came out, anyways. her sleeve is caught by him but she yanks it away forcefully. she doesn’t even know why she’s being so harsh and angry to him. all he’s done is just ask how she’s doing.

“you need sleep. not caffeine.” he spins her around by her shoulders, his eyes serious and almost frustrated. she fails to meet his eyes, afraid of falling apart before him.

“joon, just let me be.” she says harshly and pushes his hands off before running to get that extra potent coffee. it was the first time she has ever called him that, and it falls out just as naturally as the word ‘sol’ does out of his. sol doesn’t notice how wet her eyes are until she’s downstairs, grabbing cans of coffee from the vending machine. (pathetic, she thinks, getting teary because of lying to her best friend.)

joon hwi doesn't follow. and sol isn't one bit affected.

not. at. all.

-----

the next time sol sees joon hwi is in the morning. he’s carrying his books and has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leaning against the wall. sol braces herself. she knows joon hwi to be protective and caring. but for him to be waiting at the entrance of their dorm was downright surprising.

sol’s not doing any better. when the caffeine and sugar stopped her from staying late, she resorted to stabbing her hand to keep herself awake. when her hand got too red and bloody, she switched to another spot on her arm. underneath her hoodie is her arm with dried blood and bruises all over. she’s surprised she hasn’t had blood poisoning yet.

sol flashes the most natural smile she can on her face, pretending as if her argument with him did not happen a few hours ago. her head was numb, but hanging on with the ointment she applied at her temples. she needed to act okay. just so he would stop worrying and leave her alone.

“sol.” joon hwi’s voice calls, going forward and grabbing her arm to support her. sol is about to create a joke, laugh it off and pretend everything is okay, hopefully convincing him she’s doing better (even if she’s far from it.). but what she doesn’t anticipate is his hand accidentally squeezing the sore wound of hers,

she hisses as his fingers dig into her wound and he immediately lets go. joon hwi’s eyes well in concern, not knowing what he’s done that caused her so much pain. sol’s eyes meet his, uncertain and afraid, as if a secret has been exposed. she pulls her sleeve down and is almost regretting that when joon hwi gently lifts her arm and lifts her sleeve up slightly to expose her arm and hand.

joon hwi takes her good hand in his and drags her to an empty staircase not far from where they were. joon hwi notes the dried blood on her hand and gives a disapproving sigh. just what was she doing to herself? she draws her hand back and pulls her sleeve down, hiding it away.

“sol, you need to take care of yourself.”

“joon, i’m doing okay, i promise. it’s not a big deal.” her voice upbeat and slightly more energetic. joon hwi is about to call her out from lying, but she flashes a smile. “come on, how can an exam defeat me?”

“i’m going to be late.” she says and runs ahead of him, joining yeseul and yebeom in front. sol feels a gnawing guilt in her heart for lying, but she momentarily forgets about it as yebeom sweeps them into a conversation.

i’m sorry, joon. i really am. but i’m not going to burden you any further.

joon hwi is left, helpless and broken, watching the back of the woman he loves stray further.

-----

it isn’t a secret that joon hwi and sol a are good friends. everyone on campus is always shocked. joon hwi, the school’s top student. sol a, the school’s worst student. everyone would have expected sol b when they heard ‘kang sol’. after all, it made sense, didn’t it? the two best students in school.

but what would be even more shocking is that han joon hwi, second round judicial exam passer, is deep in love with kang sol, the klutz with the top bun.

joon hwi couldn’t deny the joy he felt whenever sol was around. it started with study group and tutoring and messages about school. then it became lunches every moment they could. now, he couldn’t go a day without seeing her, hearing her voice or even a simple text. he can’t remember the moment he started falling for the clumsy woman, but when he realised it, he knew it was too late. he was in, deep.

and that's why he can’t bear to see her suffer. that’s why he spends late nights studying with her even though he doesn't need to. that’s why he insist walking her home, even though he installed the camera. (“i miss byeol! that smart cookie...” would always be his excuse.) that’s why he calls her ‘sol’, and he lets her call him ‘joon’, even though no one calls him that anymore.

sol locks herself in her room and buries herself under multiple books after her lectures. sol admits it, she’s tired. she can barely keep herself together and her body is so weak she doesn’t know how she managed to survive the week with less than two hours of sleep combined per day. she can’t remember the last nap she had that lasted more than half an hour.

the guilt from lying is eating her inside. when she closes her eyes, she can only see how hurt joon hwi’s face looks when he saw her arm. taking a shaky breath in, she doesn’t notice the tear running down her cheek. what was she even crying about? lying? hurting her best friend? fatigue? she slams her head against her books, shaking her thoughts out. it’s already 3am, and she doesn’t have much time left.

“kang sol a, you need to do this exam, you hear me? if you want to pass out, do it later on in the afternoon! you have 9 hours till the test.” she scolds herself out loud. stabbing her arm once again, she jerks herself awake and writes her notes over and over. just 9 more hours.

later on in the day, sol finds herself seated next to joon hwi. but she doesn’t notice him. her eyes are too out of focus to concentrate on anything but the paper and pen she holds. when the teaching assistant makes an announcement to start, she races against time and scribbles furiously. her head throbs, but she clings on to her last ounce of sanity keeping herself awake.

-----

she’s worse. joon hwi thinks. much, much worse. her skin is paler than normal and her eyes are fluttery. with her sleeve pulled up slightly, he notices the wound on her hand more bloody than it was. he visibly winces. but it’s nothing to the hurt in his heart. he knows that he should be busy scribbling, but his eyes are slightly glassy and all he can think of is her bloody hand.

all he wants to do is to drag her away. to take her far from this school. he wants to hold her small body in his arms and cradle her as he tends to her wounds. he wants to tuck her into a soft bed and stroke her brown hair. he wants to tell her how he feels, how she’s perfect, smart and beautiful in his eyes. how sol has already had his validation, and no matter how many kang sols there are, he will only have one in his heart.

as the clock leaves a minute or so to the end, sol struggles to keep her head from falling. she just needs to finish the last sentence. her eyes are blurred and her head has never felt more tight and woozy. her ramyeon from 4am is threatening to make an appearance.

“sol, you’re bleeding.” she hears an familiar echoed voice say next to her. instinctively, she brings a hand up to her nose, and wipes it, revealing the bright red blood. she can’t care for her jacket sleeve and carelessly wipes even though her arm aches. just a bit more, she tells herself.

the voices around her blur as she feels hands on her shoulder stopping her. she pushes them off weakly as she finishes the last word on her paper. she lets out a breath of relief and pushes her paper away from her. she’s finally done. she can finally breathe and have that nap. someone calls her name, but she’s too tired to respond.

then her eyes rolls back and she crashes into oblivion.

joon hwi manages to catch her head before it hits the table as she slumps sideways. he scribbles his name on his paper before chucking his paper and hers towards the teaching assistant. yeseul passes a tissue over to joon hwi and shakes her, eyes getting teary. he gently blots her nose, soaking up the blood. the other students leave unbothered, with only their study group crowding around them.

the next hour is a mad rush in joon hwi’s head. they are frantic for an ambulance, but joon hwi just cradles her body in his arms and runs outside. “it’s faster to run.” he says before taking off. she’s light, way too light for her frame, even with the layered coats that she’s wearing. when he reaches the hospital, she’s laid on a stretcher and sent for checks while the nurses ask him to wait for short while outside.

and for the third time, he stands outside, clutching to a bloody tissue, helpless.

-----

joon hwi wants to beat himself over and over. he should have been more forceful with her. heck, he should have done more than just watch silently. he should have sent packed lunches, compiled his notes, offered to stay up with her. even after when he knows how much sol is suffering, he only stood by.

his eyes are teary when he is allowed to see her. she looks so small under those white sheets. the doctor mentions that they had to take her hoodie off to patch her wounds and insert her IV drip. “dehydrated on caffeine, lack of nutrients and fatigue.” the doctor tells him. he only nods as the doctor leaves him.

his group chat is pinging with endless messages and he takes a moment to update them. he sends a quick text that he’ll let them know when she’s awake. his hand brushes the stray hairs out of her eyes and as best as he can, arranges her bangs the way she likes. his touch is as light as a butterfly as he lets his fingers brush pass her bandages.

with the curtain closed around him, joon hwi lets himself crumble silently, as tears run down his face, hands gripping sol’s stained hoodie sleeve. he wishes he could do something then just watch sol lie on the bed. he knows she is okay, but knowing that he could have prevented this worse case scenario from happening makes him upset. he gives himself a few minutes to compose himself before taking his own hoodie and layering it on her.

and for hours, joon hwi sits by her bed in his own thoughts, once again helpless.

-----

when she wakes up, her head pounds worse than the time she got the worse hangover in school. her eyes flutter, drawing the attention of joon hwi. her mind is cloudy as she starts registering the antiseptic smell and bright lights. her eyes come into focus as she turns over to find a pair of warm brown eyes looking at her.

“joon hwi...?” she says with barely any energy.

“you’re awake.” joon hwi lets himself sigh in relief knowing that she’s awake. it’s already 6pm. the others should be on their way over soon. he sends a quick “she’s awake” to the chat and shuts his phone.

“i... finished my exam right?” the words come tumbling out of sol’s mouth.

“that’s all you are thinking of now?” the anger in joon hwi’s voice catches her by surprise. she lowers her hand and avoids his eyes. she’s really done it, then. she’s really pissed him off.

“aren’t you one bit concerned about your health? you could have literally died being so overworked.” his eyes are glassy. realising that he’s frightening her, he lets a sigh out. joon hwi helps her sit up and props a pillow for her. her fingers fiddle with the thin blanket of the bed. there’s no point being strong in front of him now, after all this.

“you know how much every test means to me.” she mutters in a voice so soft, it’s unlike her to be so...small. joon hwi knows under that strong woman with a fiery passion for justice, there’s a vulnerable little girl, insecure and uncertain. but this was the first time, he realised, that she’s opening up herself.

“i’m so tired, joon. i’m so tired of running this stupid rat race that i’ll never win. i’m so sick of putting everything into my grades and not receiving anything back.” her voice so small, staring at the bandages on her hand. was the pain worth it? she’s not sure now.

joon hwi doesn’t say anything back. how could he? this man was born for this system, to bring law back to the country. he can’t compare to her, who spends countless nights studying, while taking care of her family. all he can do is sit by her bed and provide comfort.

“my head hurts. my body aches all over. yet, i can’t seem to do well in my exams. tell me, joon. just how long must i suffer?” his heart is pierced with every word she says. she’s so broken. joon hwi then notices the small pearls of tears dripping down her face.

his hand reaches out and his thumb rubs away her tears on her cheeks. he doesn’t know what prompted this, but sol doesn’t swat his hand away. she lets him as her hand wipes her remaining tears away.

“i’m here now. you can rely on me.” he says softly to her. suddenly, he takes her small hand in his and squeezes it in comfort. sol’s slightly taken aback, but she doesn’t know why she feels fuzzy inside. she feels warm and for the first time, she feels her burden lifted. with much courage, she gives a small smile.

“noona!” they hear a familiar panicked voice ring and they instinctively draw away from each other. if joon hwi’s face is slightly red, sol doesn't notice. sol is swept away into arguing with bokgi with her health and a teary eyed yeseul. even jiho and sol b came, but stood by silently. (jiho notices joon hwi’s flushed cheeks and his too-bright smile that he finally realises is meant for kang sol a. he makes a mental note about it.)

joon hwi leans back as he watches yeseul and bokgi fuss with sol’s health. he suppresses a smile as he looks at sol’s light laugh, knowing how her burdens are slowly fading and lifted. that he’s finally managed to reach out for his soulmate as she sinks further. it was going to be a journey, but joon hwi will drag her, his sol, out from her darkness every time.

i’m going to be there, no matter what, kang sol. you will not fight alone. i will stay with you, even when you think you don’t deserve it. it doesn't matter if you feel the same towards me or not. if i can see you smile and laugh, it’s enough for me. your happiness is all that matters.

because kang sol, i just love you so damm much.

-----

sol doesn’t notice the switch in her jacket. when she leaves about an hour later with her friends to eat jjajangmyeon (extra pickles, she orders.), she assumes the jacket she has by her bed is hers. she doesn't notice the sandalwood and jasmine smell, as opposed to her pine scented fabrics. when joon hwi teases her and she argues back in annoyance, she’s carefree and light.

when joon hwi smiles at her with his sweet smile, she can’t help but think she’s so lucky that she has him, of all people, by her side. her heart skips a beat, and she’s certain that she feels more than friends towards him. that all this time, she has finally fallen for the cheeky and charming joon hwi behind his intellect.

she smiles back, teeth bared and eyes crinkled as they walk back.

after all, who is to stand against her now, when she has him by her side?

joon hwi, thank you for finding me no matter how much i try to hide away. thank you for believing in me when everyone didn’t. i know you like someone else, and it’s okay. because whoever that is will be so damm lucky to have you. to see you smile your charming smile is enough to put me at ease.

because han joon hwi, i admit, i have fallen for you. i’m in love with you.

-----

bonus:

“noona, they like each other, don’t they?” bokgi watches as sol a barks at joon hwi. joon hwi only runs ahead and buries his hands in his hoodie pockets while letting out light laughs and continues teasing.

“oh, they are so whipped for each other.” yeseul triumphantly says as she walks with the rest behind the not-so-obvious lovebirds.

well, this would be an interesting relationship to see unfold.

[crackheadgeminibby]

jealous

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: age gap, language

word count: 2k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and i’m sorry for that but i really wanted to post it🤭

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You’re sitting on your couch, eating popcorn and watch Fresh Prince reruns when your phone starts to ring. As expected.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, where the hell are you? You said you would come.” You groan loudly. “I know, but I started to feel kind of sick and I didn’t want to get everyone else sick, you know?”

There’s a pause at the other end of the phone for a couple of seconds before, “You’re such a liar. You’re never sick.” You roll your eyes at that. Of course he would know that.

Ah yes, Scott Evans, your best friend of multiple years. You had met in college and practically hated each other at first. You both were very sarcastic people and it annoyed each of you in the beginning, but you ended bonding because you were the only people that really understood each other’s humour.

“Fine, I just didn’t want to come, okay? I’m tired and I just wanted to chill at home.”

“But Y/N, you never miss the mid-summer barbeque. My mom keeps asking when you’re getting here. And I freaking miss you. Just like pop over and eat a burger or something than you can go back to your popcorn and your cat boyfriend.”

“Hey! Leave Mr. Business alone, he didn’t go anything to you.”

Scott bursts into laughter at that.

“Okay, okay, sorry Mr. Business. But Y/N, seriously, please, just come for a while.”

You groan even louder than the first time, “Fine. But I’m eating a hot-dog and fruit salad and then I’m leaving.”

“Yes! Okay, see you in 30!”

You hang up the phone and reluctantly get up from your couch, headed to take a shower.

You normally didn’t mind going to Lisa’s house because you adored Scott’s family. Since the beginning, they had all been so nice and welcoming to you. Well, you know, except Chris.

Chris and you did not get along, to say the least. He annoyed the shit out of you, always showing up with a new bimbo on his arm, making out like there’s no tomorrow in front of everybody. Like, literally. Every single time you saw him, he was with a new girl. He also spent the entire time you were at the house taking digs at you. Always for different reasons, which kudos for the originality, but they were always increasingly mean. This meant that you could never stay too long when Chris was there or you would lose your shit, like at that one Christmas dinner. Oof, bad memories.

As you’re standing in front of your closet, you contemplate all of your summer clothes. You end up deciding on a sheer long sleeve top and black dress. You rapidly do your hair and makeup as you hear Scott sending multiple texts, probably asking where you are.

You finally arrive at the house about 45 minutes later. You immediately head to the backyard, where lively noise and soft music are coming from.

As soon as you get in the backyard, you spot Scott, sitting on a chair, beer in hand, talking with his mom.

When he sees you, his face lights up and he excitedly waves you over.

“Hi guys!”

“Y/N! We were starting to think that you weren’t going to show up!”

You laugh slightly, “You know me, always have to make an entrance and all!”

You sit down on a chair next to them and listen distractedly as they continue with their conversation.

As you’re starting to think about getting yourself to eat, Chris enters the backyard with another one of his hook-ups, as on schedule. You roll your eyes slightly as you tell Scott and Lisa that you’ll be right back and head to the food table.

You’re distracted by the customization of your food and don’t realize that your seat is now occupied by your least favorite Evans.

“Um, excuse me. I was sitting there.”

Chris barely spares you a glance as his hook-up looks at you, offended, and scoffs. “So? There’s plenty of chairs in the backyard.”

“Okay, well, this chair has my phone on it so obviously I was going to come back to sit here, so move.”

Chris makes a mocking pout at you and says, “Oh, you’re right, sorry.” He then rolls his eyes and smirks, “Or not.”

You grind your jaw and swallow your pride. There’s no need to make a scene. You give Chris the fakest smile you can muster and bend down to take your phone from the chair’s drink holder and turn around to sit on the other side of the pool.

Unfortunately for you, this gives you a direct view of Chris’ make-out session. You shudder and groan as you direct your attention to the children playing in the pool.

After eating, you head to the cooler to get a beer but, of course, it’s empty.

Knowing that Scott always keeps a secret stash of his favorite beers in the basement, you leave your plate and phone on the chair before heading inside. As you go down the stairs, you remember that they didn’t have any light down here. Would have been pretty smart to bring your phone but, oh well, too late.

You get a bottle from the fridge before cracking it open on the door. You’re about to go back upstairs when a sound surprises you and you let out a scream while throwing a punch out in the dark.

“Ow, you hit my face! What the fuck is your problem?”

Of course it would be him.

“Well, you scared the shit out of me so not my fault.”

You skirt around him and head back upstairs. However, before you can pass through the kitchen and head back to the backyard, you feel a hand around your arm.

“Wait. I wanna talk to you for a second.”

You turn around and shake your arm out of his grip. You take a sip of your beer while you wait for him to speak. Chris sighs loudly before asking, “Why do you hate me?”

You choke on your beer before looking at him with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re always super rude to me whenever you see me, and you always leave parties after like an hour when I’m here.”

“Okay, so we’re doing this.” Chris frowns in confusion at this.

“First of all, I don’t hate you, you just really annoy me. You’re always showing up with a new girl, always more plastic than the one before. You’re always eating their faces in front of everyone, which like, ew. And you’re the one that’s rude to me, by the way, so…”

You shrug and are ready to down your beer and leave when Chris whispers, “Wait, you don’t like that?”

“Why the fuck would I want to see you making out with a different girl every few weeks?”

“But Scott said that-” When he realizes what he’s saying, he stops abruptly and puts a hand in front of his mouth.

You tilt your head in confusion, “Scott said what?”

“Umm… Well, he said that… Uh, you liked bad boys?’

You feel heat making its way from your belly all the way up to your cheeks. You were attracted to the more edgy ones but what the hell did that have to do with anything?

“And?’

“Well… I thought that, you know, if I was like that, you would like me?”

Realization hits you and you mutter, “Oh my God, I’m way too sober for this shit.”

You gulp down the rest of your beer and try to think of what to say when you hear, “Baby, come back outside.”

Chris’ date saunters into the kitchen and glares at you as she practically hangs herself from his arm.

“Yeah, um, good luck with that,” you gesture to the girl next to Chris and finish with, “and I’m gonna go.”

You put your beer bottle in the trash and head to the backyard. You get your phone and rapidly say by to Scott and Lisa before practically running out to your car.

Once you’re back home, back in your pyjamas and watching TV, you ponder over your short conversation with Chris. It kind of made sense that he suddenly started acting all macho around you. The first few times you had met Chris, he had been pretty nice to you but was very reserved. You just assumed that fame had gotten to his head and that’s why he had started acting like that. You roll your eyes as you remember that Chris had said that he was acting like that because of Scott.

you, 6:45pm:

so why exactly and in what circumstances did you reveal my type to chris?

You put your phone down but almost immediately receive a response.

scott, 6:45pm:

I didn’t know you guys could have a conversation without murdering each other.

I don’t even remember talking about this with him

you, 6:46pm:

he told me that you told him that i liked “bad boys”

scott, 6:46pm:

Oh, that

I’m pretty sure I told him that like 15 years ago when you met him

You frown at this. He’s been acting like a dumbass for 15 years and for what? You shake your head as you look for Chris’ name in your phone contacts.

you, 6:47pm:

where are you right now?

You put your phone down and head to the kitchen to make yourself a quick snack to eat. As you’re washing the things you used, you hear a text message coming in.

christopher, 7:03pm:

I just got home.

Why?

you, 7:03pm:

we need to talk, come over

You were kind of nervous. Chris had never come inside your house and you were sure that he would have plenty to say about it, but you were not in the mood at all.

About 15 minutes later, you hear your doorbell ring. You exhale slowly before opening the door and stepping aside to let Chris in.

He walks in and looks around before turning back to you and saying, “It’s pretty.” You could feel that he was different from the other times you had seen each other.

You mutter a “thanks” and motion for Chris to follow you in the living room.

“Okay, so you said that Scott told you the type of guys that I liked but you didn’t say why he told you that.”

“Um, I asked him, a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Well, you know…”

You start to get annoyed and reply, “No, I don’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would you?”

Chris exhales loudly before responding, “I thought you were beautiful and smart, and I liked you and I wanted to be like the other guys you liked.”

“I- huh?”

“At first, I thought it would make you laugh or something but then you didn’t react so I thought that if I was a little mean, you would notice me but then it didn’t work so I thought that I would try to make you jealous and here we are.”

You look at Chris with your mouth agape as you try to register what he just said.

“That seems rather cliché, no?”

“Yeah, I know, it was dumb and weird, but I didn’t know what else to do to make you notice me.”

“I don’t really know what to say, to be honest…”

“How about I take out sometime and you can get to know the real me?”

“Umm… I guess?”

Chris gets up, a grin on his face, as he heads towards your front door.

“I’ll text you then.”

As you hear Chris start his car and leave, you’re still sitting on the couch, completely shocked.

What the fuck just happened?

[walks-the-ages]

Submitted post:

About Bleach vs ML round 3:

Hi. Just here to remind you of the round 3 of Bleach vs ML: comparaison between Masaki kurosaki and Emilie Agreste.

Although to be honest it cannot really be called a "comparaison", because like, there's none of that lol.

Masaki had only few appearances in Bleach, but with just that, we found out she was kind and loving, so impactful was her presence that her presence helped alleviate any of Ichigo's sadness during his childhood, she cared deeply for her family, and her death deeply impacted Ichigo's family along with his friends as well. She didn't just die for the sake of giving Ichigo and his father Manpain (unlike another show that uses females for the sake of manpain).

Her presence (soul?) returns once more at the beginning of the series to give Ichigo much needed advice when he was a beginner in the whole shinigami bussines and help alleviate his burden and guilt about her death.

Even more so later in the series, she would get more characterisation.

Meanwhile Emilie has... something about making a movie that only the Agrestes(?) had heard of?? Whtever she did with the peacock??

She has no personality whatsoever. I guess she was nice to Adrien?? Or that is just Adrien wearing rose-tinted lenses when about her.

Her presence has no impact aside than *maybe* giving Gabriel a reason to go full terrorist, though at this point I am not sure about that either.

Any other appearance and she is literally fridged in a cryochamber, and four seasons in, and we still don't know more about her than when the first season came.

Why is Gabriel loving her to this extent, we still don't know.

What had she done to Adrien in his childhood, how did she impact his personality, attitude, growth, we still don't know.

How she interacted with Duusuu, and what the heck she wanted to do that justified to her the risk of getting put into coma.

The fact that people can make headcanons and write about whatever idea they had about her (evil and controlling, or loving and naive to a fault, and anything in between) and that she won't be OOC says a lot.

The ML writers might as well swap her with a lootbox and the plot won't really change. Emilie is just that non-entity in her show, even though she is apparently the main reason Gabriel kickstarted the whole plot.

You can't do that with Masaki, because even though she only appeared in few episodes, she has a solid character and personality, and her presence keeps following the watchers in the form of Ichigo's own growth and his friends.

Masaki is what the ML writers think Emilie is supposed to be, and they utterly fail at that.

-----------

Thank you anon, thank you very much, because not only did you remind me I needed to make this post, you literally made the post for me! Because Masaki Kurosaki is an actual character, while Emilie Agreste is a generic, barely-existant concept.

Emilie Agreste exists literally as. A name. A woman in a fridge. She exists purely to give Adrien and Gabriel a tragic backstory that only motivates Gabriel, while Adrien doesn't give a flying fuck about his mom and literally everyone was convinced Emilie had vanished when he was like, 5.

But no, Emilie had been missing for... Less than a year.

And Adrien doesn't give a single fuck about her other than to be weirdly nostalgic over her, as if he can't really remember her and only knows about her from pictures and that singular movie that existed for a single scene and means nothing because! Because!

Because... the writers decided to come in years after the show first aired to say it's been less than a year since Emilie vanished.

Not even died, not even went missing... She just straight up vanished, and Adrien's not the only one that doesn't give a fuck about Emilie's nonexistance-- no one in Paris questions where she is, no one talks about going to a funeral or having to accept that she's gone, no one even talks about *how* she vanished, her own TWIN SISTER doesn't give a rat's ass about her identical twin possibly being murdered by her billionaire husband or being so unhappy she ran away from her marriage OR possibly being kidnapped and murdered or died in a tragic accident or. Literally anything that could possibly explain her falling off the face of the earth while married to a billionaire and with a teenage son.

Literally no one gives a single shit about Emilie as a person, even when she's being used for Gabriel and Adrien's manpain, she's literally just a tool, a concept, to give Adrien and Gabriel cheap sympathy points which fails horribly because Adrien clearly doesn't care that she's possibly dead in a ditch somewhere or ran off because she didn't love them enough to stay or anything else an actual teenager would rightfully catesteophize about their mom going missing, and Gabriel's Manpain doesn't mean much when he's a pathetically incompetent villain who's writing flipflops between irredeemable terrorist who will do anything to save his wife to sadboy candy who we're supposed to ship with his personal assistant for some god fucking awful reason because the writers are gross 45 year old white men.

Then, there's Masaki Kurosaki.

Ishinn took her last name when they got married, so Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu all have Masaki's family name of Kurosaki as part of their inheritance.

Unlike Adrien's Less-Than-A-Year-Ago Emilie that Adrien doesn't care about...

Ichigo lost his mother when he was very young, and Masaki's death was a deeply defining part of Ichigo's life; dealing with his grief, literal depression, and learning to heal from the loss is one of the major plot arcs for the first season of Bleach, and the arc could very well stand up as its own standalone storyline for anyone that isn't interested in the fighting genre that Bleach swaps to at the end of the first main arc. (Wink wink nudge nudge go watch the Bleach Live action movie if you're curious about Bleach but don't want to get into the chore of skipping past a million filler episodes)

But Masaki's role in the story doesn't end there!

Ichigo gets closure, and is able to start moving on with his life, finally able to accept that he was not responsible for his mother's death...

But the family name Kurosaki and red hair is not the only thing Ichigo inhereted from his mother--

Because Ichigo is mixed race in more than just inhereting his mother's red hair that warrants him being racially targeted through his entire life-- Masaki was also a Quincy, foreshadowed from the very beginning in every scene we see of her, and she had led an entire life before she met Ishinn and had a family, she has family history, and personality, and even when all we know is that she is gone... We know what she was like, we know she loved her family and would do anything for them, that she would gladly give her life to save her child-- and that she did.

We even know exactly how much Ishinn loved and respected her, and loved her all the more for protecting their child with her very life--

While Emilie, as you said, is literally just... A blank slate that no one can agree on-- was she just a horrifying a parent as Gabriel? Was she worse? Was she one of Gabriel's victims? Did she genuinely love Gabriel and Adrien and care for them? Was she a good person? A good parent? Was she doting? Was she controlling? Was she kind? Was she cold?

Was she using the Peacock Miraculous to save someone out of selflessness? To get rich? To hurt someone because she was selfish? Was it out of a desperate desire to have a child that she couldn't have biologically?

Or to create the perfect walking talking mannequin to be the perfect cash grab to sell to a new market?

We just don't know! Because the writers dont even know, nor do they care! Adrien being a Sentimonster is literally the biggest, half-assed retcon in the world, because the writers only care about what sells, not what's actually good storytelling.

[allnewalldifferentwildspider]

Zuko & Katara's Relationship Dynamic

This is like the third or fourth time I've tried to write up this post so please bare with me.

Oh wow. That video. Hopefully everyone has seen it now. Not only did it articulate arguments I've been making for years, but it also brought up ideas I had never thought of or noticed before. Watching that and watching the second half of Book 3 again (because it's my favorite) made me want to redo my zutara dynamic post.

I'm going to be using the tiny bits and pieces the show gave us to see how Zuko and Katara's relationship looks and how it would look if they gave us more because...Bryke really fucking hated zutara. I mean, I guess they did.

Katara is compassionate; Zuko is empathetic

A lot of anti-zutara arguments have said that Zuko and Katara could never be together because they would constantly fight and hate each other and it end sooner than later. Not only does this actually describe maiko, but that argument would need to ignore the characters' actual character.

One of Katara's biggest character traits is how compassionate she is. She has a drive to help others and ease their pain. Whether it's getting Aang out of the iceberg or healing a Fire Nation fishing village, Katara will go out of her way to help someone in need.

Katara: No. I will never ever turn my back on people who need me.

Zuko is very emotional and passionate person. As much as he tried to hide it to appease his father, Zuko does want to open up and connect with people. Unfortunately, aside from his uncle, most of the other people he knows are like Zhao and Azula. Not the most understanding of crowds. But because of this he can pick up what people are really thinking and feeling. Think of it as a defense mechanism he developed growing up around people like Azula.

Get these two kinds of people together and you get the crystal catacombs scene. Katara lashes out at Zuko until she breaks down. When she does Zuko opens up with empathy since they have something in common. This creates the beginning of an understanding between the two. Zuko uses that to finally open up to someone who isn't his uncle and Katara listens and reaches out to help. Contrast to the first episode of Book 3 when Zuko tries to voice his thoughts and concerns to Mai and she...doesn't really care.

Something similar happens during The Southern Raiders. Zuko figures out that Katara is taking out her anger of being separated from her father by The Fire Nation onto him and even connecting her mother's death to him.

It's not the first time Zuko has done this either. He easily figured out that Sokka was planning on going to The Boiling Rock. He does it again during Sozin's Comet when he tells Katara that Aang needs to figure out what to do about Ozai by himself.

There's a noticeable pattern of behavior by the time Sozin's Comet arrives. Zuko voices his concerns about meeting his uncle again and Katara is right there to help him through it.

Zuko's empathy combined with Katara's compassion creates almost a cycle of understanding and emotional vulnerability that the two can't really get with anyone else. One notices the other having concerns or problems and goes to give comfort by words or by actions.

Zuko still has a temper but so does Katara

Even after Zuko's fever dream character change thing, even after The Day of Black Sun, he still has it in him to yell at anyone who commits even the slightest transgressions against him:

Aang: That one felt kinda hot. Zuko: Don't patronize me. You know what it's supposed to look like. Aang: Sorry, sifu hotman. Zuko: And stop calling me that!

Sokka: So all we have to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough. *pokes him with his sword* *annoying laugh* Zuko: All right! Cut it out!

Maybe it's the firebender in him or maybe he really is just like that. Basically if you annoy him, he'll let you know. What people sometimes overlook is that while it takes Katara a bit longer, she also gets worked up when people upset her.

Toph: What's the matter? Can't handle some dirt, Madame Fussy Britches? Katara: Oh, sorry, did I splash you, mud slug?

And remember, it was Katara getting angry at Sokka that even broke the iceberg that revealed Aang.

Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka: Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!

The point is that it is both Zuko and Katara that are very passionate and emotional people. One of them isn't emotionally dominating the other because they both wear their emotions on their sleeves.

This also comes in to play when they set goals for themselves. When Zuko sets a goal, he puts everything into it. Katara is the same way. The difference is that Zuko's drive sometimes gives him a one-track mind while Katara is more flexible. Like for example Zuko being so focused on finding Aang before Sozin's Comet that he ignores Toph's story about her childhood versus Katara wanting to go to the North Pole but taking time to stop and help whoever they come across.

This passion also fuels their values and how strongly they stand by their beliefs. I already put The Painted Lady quote up above but Zuko's morality is what is making him so angry at himself during The Beach. He knows what he did was wrong, but he couldn't face it yet.

Sometimes their emotions get the better of them, but it's only because they are passionate about what they're doing.

Their natural teamwork is amazing

I can't provide a lot of clues in this bit because it's more of a visual thing. Just consider how flawlessly their plans worked during their attack on The Southern Raiders. Especially when you consider that it was a stealth mission so they barely even said anything to each other during and it still went incredibly well.

You could see it again during their mock battle with The Melon Lord. Sokka must have noticed because he paired them together to deliver some "liquidy-hot offence." And they pulled it off, again, without having to say anything.

They've only been a team for a few weeks(?), days(?) but they act as if they've been doing it for years.

They trust each other's judgment

Piggybacking of the previous point, Zuko and Katara have only been a team for a while but there seems to be a level of understanding in terms of judgement. They both know that whatever the other chooses is going to be a well-thought out decision. Maybe it's because they see each other as the mature members of the group even though Sokka is the same age as Zuko? I don't know.

Aang disappears right before they embark on their fight against the Fire Lord, and out of nowhere, Katara puts Zuko in charge.

Zuko: Get out of the bison's mouth, Sokka. We have a real problem here. Aang is nowhere to be found and the comet is only two days away. Katara: What should we do Zuko? Zuko: I don't know. Why are you all looking at me? Katara: Well, you are kind of the expert on tracking Aang.

and that wasn't the first time in that episode that she went along with one of Zuko's decisions

Katara: Aang, don't walk away from this. *She begins to walk towards him as a hand touches her shoulder to stop her from doing so.* Zuko: Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.

As a lot of people have pointed out during the entirety of The Southern Raiders, Zuko never gives a suggestion on what he thinks Katara should do. Aside from making it a stealth mission, he follows her lead the entire way.

Katara teases Zuko (and he lets her)

The fun one. This one has two parts: pre and post The Southern Raiders.

Before The Southern Raiders, Katara was tolerating Zuko. She was still angry with him about the betrayal at Ba Sing Se. Getting little jabs at him was the only thing that was really helping her from loosing her cool around him.

Katara: I'm sorry. I'm just laughing at the irony. You know... how it would have been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago? Zuko: Well it's not lost. It's just weaker for some reason. Katara: Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are. Toph: Ouch.

He just finished yelling at Aang and Sokka but all he does is glare at Katara. She does it again, but to be fair, he kind of set himself up for it.

Zuko: It's a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old! Katara: Oh yeah? What's your little form called? Zuko: ...The Dancing Dragon.

Then comes post The Southern Raiders and...yeah, she's still picking on him and he still lets her. Granted it's a lot more playful this time around.

Zuko: They make me totally stiff and humorless. Katara: Actually, I think that actor's pretty spot on. Zuko: How could you say that? Actor Uncle: Let's forget about the Avatar and get massages. Actor Zuko: How could you say that?! (Cut back to Katara wearing a satisfied grin on her face and she looks to an expressionless Zuko as he slouches in his seat.)

I love pointing it out every time. She teases him and he does nothing about it.

Katara: Er, no. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this. Look at baby Zuko! Isn't he cute? Oh lighten up, I was just teasing.

And she admits it!

-

So what can we take away from this? From what little time they were given together (thanks, Bryke) it seems that Zuko and Katara really understand each other on an intimate emotional level. They can sense when the other is distressed and offer comfort. They're both passionate in and out of combat, for better or for worse. They're comfortable with each other as if they've known each other for years even though it's such a short time. Katara also likes to add a little bit of playfulness in there with Zuko letting her have her fun, again, showing how comfortable they are with each other.

I do think their relationship could have gone to romantic sooner than later if you would have given it a bit more time. Like first half of a hypothetical Book 4.

To me, at least.

[starryeyedrookie]

Before It’s Too Late (Ethan x MC)

Book: Set during book 2 ch. 11.

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Evelyn Long)

Word count: 1,996

Rating: General

Category: Angst

Summary: An attack scene rewrite when Ethan spends the night with MC.

A/N: Characters and some dialogue owned by Pizelberry.

I finally decided how I was going to write this rewrite. Initially I was trying to do a full chapter rewrite but half way through, I was already at 3k+ words so it would be waaaay to long. Thankfully, I managed to summarize it but also give it a ton of angst. (This was my first time writing angst btw.) I hope you enjoy!

8:30 pm

It's been exactly five hours since the attack. Five excruciatingly long hours since Evelyn’s world was turned upside down.

Travis, Senator Ed’s assistant, had slowly been poisoning him with lead. When they went to confront him, he pulled out a can and sprayed everyone in the room with a deadly unknown substance.

The Senator managed to escape and Travis was dead. But so was Bobby, with Danny fighting for his life.

Evelyn begins to cry again as she thinks about Bobby’s wife and two kids that he left behind. They would now have to grow up without their dad. He would miss so many big milestones in their lives all because of two selfish people.

“E-Evelyn…?” a weak voice calls from across the room.

She walks over to the bed where Raf is lying down, a light sheen of sweat covering his pale face.

The team had come a little while ago with a shot that they had hoped would slow the progression of their symptoms, but Raf’s still seemed to be getting worse.

“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, gently wiping the tears from her face.

“I was just… thinking about Bobby’s family and… everything that he… would miss. He was… just telling me… this morning that… his oldest daughter is turning sixteen this year…”

“I know… life isn’t fair. They didn’t deserve any of this.”

“You didn’t either, Raf.”

“But I saved you from having to suffer so much… and that’s what matters.”

“Raf…”

“Shh… listen, I feel… like I’m… getting worse. Will you… do me a favour?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

“Please help me call my vovo.”

Evelyn hands Raf his phone to unlock, then scrolls through his contacts until she sees his grandmother’s name, tapping it, she places the phone to his ear.

“Olá, vovo.”

“No… I’m not well. There was an attack at the hospital today and the Senator’s assistant tried to kill him. A few people were in the room when it happened. The Senator escaped, but his assistant and one person that works here died and the other is in critical condition. Evelyn and I are in quarantine right now.”

“I just wanted to let you know… that if I… don’t make it… I love you with all my heart.”

“Alright, take care. I love you too.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.” he takes a shaky breath, his heart rate slowing and growing more shallow.

“Evelyn… I think you should… call the team… I'm sorry I couldn't save you… that this… might be the way it ends…” he murmurs, eyes meeting hers, as warm and kind as the day they met.

Taking his hand, she can barely see him through her tears.

“You'll make it through this Raf… I know you will…”

He smiles up at her before his eyes flutter closed and his hand falls away.

Moments later Ethan and June rush into the room.

“I’d hoped that the treatment would buy us more time,” Ethan says sadly.

“We don’t know that it didn’t.” Evelyn tries reassuring him.

He nods as June’s eyes fill with sympathy.

“We’ll get him to the support suite. There’s still a chance that we could fix this Evelyn.” June tells her, as she prepares Rafael for transport.

Evelyn’s almost too scared to ask, but she needs to know. “How’s Danny?”

“We… we lost him.” Ethan’s voice comes out in a whisper.

“No…”

“Before he died he… he asked to be autopsied. To help the two of you.”

As Ethan turns to help June, Evelyn reports Raf’s most recent symptom of hot cold reversal.

“Stay strong, Evelyn. We’ll know more soon.” June tells her reassuringly as she and Ethan slowly push Raf out of the room.

Now she’s all alone, curled up on her bed, the pressure in her head becoming almost too much to bear.

Her mind drifts to Danny. She remembers her first day when he was the one that told her that she had just performed a thoracotomy with Ethan Ramsey. The night of the party her roommates had when he and Sienna talked all night until they fell asleep together on the couch.

Sienna. All Evelyn wanted to do was rush to her side and hold her. She and Danny were supposed to be together. They were meant for each other. But how he was gone, and Sienna would have to live with that loss. She probably never even got to say goodbye.

Goodbye. Evelyn had to be prepared.

Picking up her phone, she sees that she has several missed calls and messages.

Calling her mom, she picks up immediately.

“Evelyn sweetie! Are you okay?! Oh my goodness, we saw what happened on the news and I thought we lost you!”

Hearing her mom’s voice, her tears start falling again.

“I’m hanging in there right now mom. It’s just me in the room now. Rafael just got taken to the support suite.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

“Mom… is everyone there?”

“Yes, honey. We’re all here.”

“Can you put me on speaker please?”

“Hey Evey.” she hears her dad’s voice say.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi Evelyn, do they know what it is yet?

“Hi Ben, no they don’t. We got a shot earlier that was supposed to slow the progression of the symptoms, but we don’t have a cure yet.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, guys… if I don’t make it…”

“No Evelyn! You can’t say that!” her heart breaks as she hears Ben crying through the phone.

“Wait… just listen to me. I’m preparing for the worst. I want you guys to know… that I love you all so much. And I want to thank you for everything that you’ve done to help me fulfill my dreams.”

Aside from the sound of soft cries, the line is silent.

Finally, her dad speaks up.

“We love you too sweetie. Stay strong and hang in there. You’ll be fine.”

“I’ll try… take care.”

“Bye.”

Later, her friends and the diagnostics team are gathered outside her window. Bryce looks at her with haunted eyes while a crying Sienna buries her face in Jackie’s shoulder.

“How’s Kyra? The surgery must be over by now…”

“She’s fine and resting. We haven’t told her what happened yet.”

“Good idea.”

“So, do you know what it is yet?”

Ethan explains to her that it’s a maitotoxin that he had never seen before. It was still present in Danny’s bony postmortem and on the surface of his skin.

Processing the information, the realization hits Evelyn like a ton of bricks.

“Maitotoxin… that’s derived from parasites in fish, isn’t it? But… there’s no antidote so… I’m going to die here…” her voice now barely a whisper. “I can’t believe this. Today was supposed to be happy. Kyra was supposed to have a successful surgery and everything was supposed to be fine… but now Danny’s dead, Raf is in a coma, and I’m… I’m…” Evelyn buries her face in her hands as she begins to cry.

“Now isn’t the time to give up hope Evelyn. Because of Raf’s actions, you didn’t get much in your system so your symptoms aren’t as advanced. There may not be an antidote as yet, but I promise you that we’ll be working round-the-clock to synthesize one.” Ethan tries to sound as confident as he can, his heart breaking to see Evelyn hurting.

“You won’t be alone.”

Everyone turns around to see that the statement had come from Tobias, as he, and several Mass Kenmore doctors approached them, all prepared to do whatever it takes.

As everyone heads down to the lab, Ethan lingers behind at the window.

“Are you okay, Ethan?”

“No, Evelyn, I’m not okay. But you don’t need to hear about that. You should try and get some rest. Have you slept at all?”

“No. I can’t stop thinking about Rafael. How long he can last… whether… whether it’s already…”

“…Do you want me to stay for a while?”

“Yes, please. If this is my last night alive, I want to spend it with you.”

“If I was in your position, I’d feel the same way about you.”

“Really?”

“Really, Evelyn.”

Suiting up and entering the room, he gently guides her to the bed.

“Now lie down. I know it sounds impossible, but I need you to relax and try to think about something happy.”

As she lies down, Ethan gently pulls up the covers around her.

“Something happy like what it would be like if we went on a date?”

“If that’s what makes you happy then sure.”

Her happiness leaves as quickly as it came.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel like there are so many things that I should have done.”

“Like what?”

“I should have loved more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent the last decade focusing on college, med school, work, always guarding my heart because I might be in another city the next year. It makes me wonder… what could have been,” she confesses sadly.

Ethan is quiet for a long moment.

“Since we’re sharing regrets, do you mind if I share one of mine?”

“Go ahead.”

Reaching across, Ethan’s gloved hand finds hers.

“I wish I hadn’t asked you to stay away.”

“You do?” she asks surprised.

“We’ve wasted so much time. I’ve wasted so much time. I should have held you in my arms every day and told you how much I… how much I love you.”

“Ethan?”

“Shh… I just needed you to know… that no matter what happens… I love and care about you more than I can ever tell you.”

“I love you too, Ethan.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I thought you knew that already.”

“I did. It’s just so wonderful to hear you say it.”

“I wish I could kiss you.”

“Soon. You will soon.”

Joining her on the bed, he wraps his bulky arms around her as eyes begin to flutter closed.

“Evelyn? Can you please look at me?”

“Hmm?”

Forcing her eyes open, she looks at him through his helmet.

“Promise me that you’ll keep fighting. That you won’t give up. Oh, Evelyn… our story’s only just begun and it can’t end here. Please… please promise me.”

“…I… promise,” she whispers before falling asleep.

The next morning she wakes up to excruciating pain in her stomach. Doubling over, Ethan reaches across from the chair for her.

“It’s okay Evelyn, you’ll be alright!”

Feeling weaker than ever, she can barely make out the blurry figures running to her window.

“Evelyn! We did it!” Aurora shouts.

“Huh?”

Baz and June enter the room with the antidote as Tobias explains how they did it.

“What about Raf? He’s much sicker than I am…”

“We administered it to him, but too far there’s been no chance. It’s possible we’re already too late.” Sienna gloomily reveals.

“But he hasn’t gotten any worse, that has to mean something!” Elijah adds.

As Ethan gently injects the serum into her vein, he whispers into her ear.

“Hang in there, Evelyn.”

Over the next several anxious hours, June comes regularly to take her blood.

Slowly, her blood pressure stabilizes and the nausea begins to fade.

As Evelyn looks around, she realizes that the room no longer looks blurry.

“Get up.”

She turns around to see a hazmat suit free Ethan stroll into the room with a big smile on his face.

“You mean…”

“It worked. There’s no trace of toxin left in your bloodstream. Even if there are still traces in the room, we know now that we can-”

“Oh!”

Evelyn flies into Ethan's arms pulling him into a tight hug.

“…What you’re saying is I’m finally free to do this?”

“Yes. This too.”

He leans down capturing her lips in a passionate kiss as tears fall down both of their faces.

“Ethan, aren’t you worried that someone will see?”

“No. After almost losing you, I’ve decided that there are more important things to worry about than what people will think. I love you with all my heart, Evelyn Long.”

Through her tears, she smiles up at him.

“I love you too, Ethan.”

{Two Weeks Later}

Taglist: @mercury84choices @a-crepusculo @emmasumbrella @quixoticdreamer16 @headoverheelsforramsey @mm2305 @adiehardfan @schnitzelbutterfingers

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed❤️

[luminnara]

The Dismemberment Song | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words: 3,791

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club.

PART ONE | PART TWO |

WARNINGS: graphic blood/gore/violence, reader may or may not torture and murder a guy, alcohol, all that good Gotham stuff, reader is kinda fucked up

Seriously, don’t read this if you don’t like blood

Based on The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid! 

This is written as a kinda vague fem!reader, but if there’s interest I can always write alternate versions for different genders, more specific body/personality types, or whatever else might tickle your fancy! Just hit up my ask box!

Requests are open!! Pls, I really wanna write more Zsasz or Zsaszmask x reader, gimme ideas!

The Black Mask was a club that boasted only the best of the best. Top shelf booze, luxurious furnishings, and entertainers that Gotham’s other club owners wished they could get their hands on all came together to form the East End’s trendiest spot. You were lucky enough to be one of those very entertainers, and you had been performing onstage at Roman’s club ever since one of his goons saw you dancing at another spot across town. Roman Sionis had bought you easily, promising a good nightly wage and all the free drinks you could stomach, and a few years later, you were still enjoying the nice gig at the Black Mask. 

Most nights were the same; you showed up around seven, hung around in the dressing room with the others while you all got ready, and enjoyed a drink or two before your first number. You were always in the chorus, not that you really minded--Roman paid you more than enough to keep you happy, even though you knew the stars got more. Girls who did solo numbers, especially if they could sing, those were Mr. Sionis’s favorites. You never really expected to achieve that kind of status, not when people like Dinah Lance were around and holding his attention, so when Roman pulled you aside one night to tell you that he wanted to give you the chance to do your own routine, you nearly dropped your drink. 

“Full creative control,” he said, a hand resting at the small of your back as you gaped at him. 

“I--what?” you managed to choke out. “I-I mean, thank you, Mr. Sionis, really--”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Call me Roman.”

“Thank you, Roman,” you smiled, swallowing down your fear. “I won’t disappoint you, I swear.” 

“I know you won’t, doll.” he motioned for someone to bring him a drink. “Full creative control, like I said. I want to see what’s swirling around in that pretty mind of yours. Put some heart into it for me, k doll?”

You nodded. “You got it, boss.”

He grinned, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss against your temple like he did with all the girls he liked. “Looking forward to it, beautiful.”

He let you go, turning to leave, and Zsasz slunk after him, but not before casting you an almost annoyed look. 

“Don’t disappoint,” he teased, whistling low before he followed his boss. 

You gulped. You were sure he wouldn’t mind peeling your face off, but you rather preferred staying alive.

“I won’t!” you called after him bravely. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes practically boring into you as if were sizing you up. He thought you were just some prissy little girl, didn’t he? Just like Roman, just like everybody else. But you would show them. They wanted to see what kind of shit really ate at your brain? Oh, you’d give them a nice little glimpse.

And so, only a couple shorts weeks later, here you were, getting ready in the dressing room like usual, only you were far more nervous than you had been for any other shift. You had busted your ass getting everything ready, even taking a few nights off to work twice as hard on what you hoped would be a good debut. You had given the band their sheet music, you had learned your lyrics inside and out (because you were absolutely determined to go that extra mile for Roman Sionis and show him that not only could you prance around onstage, but you could sing, too), and you had spent hours upon hours hand-decorating an old corset and lingerie set you had sitting around. Roman wanted this to come from the heart, he wanted a passion project, and you were gonna give it to him. 

You just had to pray that he was in the right mood to enjoy it.

“Think you’re good to go, my love,” the house mom said as she finished with your hair. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror. So far, so good...your hair was in big barrel curls, still warm to the touch as your house mom gave it a couple more passes with the hairspray for good measure. 

“You sure I don’t need--”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” she interrupted, retreating to her usual chair. 

You kept staring at your reflection. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean...”

She laughed loudly. “Hon, this is Gotham. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you weren’t so sure. “But...”

“But nothing. Now go on, go show Roman why he stays in business.”

You stood on shaky legs, nodding to her as you made your way towards the door. “R-right.”

“Break a leg,” she called after you. 

All you could do was nod. You knew what you were doing. You had practiced for hours every day to get ready for this. With a deep breath, you made your way down the hall leading to stage, shaking your hands out as you stood in the wings. You could do this. You were ready.

As soon as your stage name was announced, you stepped out, ruby encrusted heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. The lights were harsh, the crowd quiet as you came out to face them. The stage was set for you, a few props already waiting for you as you stood there, ready for the music to start.

Then, the band began playing, and you sprang into action.

“Hold still, my sweet. I’m tryin to measure the space between your molar and your jaw...” You sang, lunging forward to grab the medical-grade calipers sitting in a metal bucket for you. You trailed them down over your victim’s jaw, smiling as you did so. “...This caliper, no cause for fear. No it...it doesn’t hurt, it only helps me measure how much skin you have...”

Across the club, Zsasz looked up. He was standing near Roman, his boss sitting in a booth while he chatted with some business associates. He was far more interested in you than their conversation, his dark eyes tracking you as you moved across the stage. He was absolutely enthralled by your outfit, your tightly-laced corset covered in blood red rhinestones that glimmered under the stage lights, your matching bra and thong shining just as brightly. You looked like you were covered in blood, the gems catching his eye in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“--and the topmost layer of fat, but I won’t make an incision till you’re nice and numb...” There was an operating table on the stage, where one of Roman’s lowest-ranking goons was tied down. If Zsasz remembered correctly, this guy had fucked up pretty monumentally recently, so seeing him strapped down and struggling brought a grin to his face.

You ran over to the man, the crowd laughing as you leaned across him. “...Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun, please don’t doubt my decision...”

The scene you had set was both comedic and sexual. In all honesty, Zsasz hadn’t expected you to do anything like this; you were a chorus girl, someone he had thought would go for something overdone and classic. Maybe some old school stupid, annoying, Singin In The Rain type shit, yet there you were, dressed in an outfit that was obviously meant to emulate dripping blood while you flitted around a man on a gurney. 

Zsasz couldn’t look away. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee!” you squealed, teasingly pressing your sawblade to the goon’s torso. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

You grabbed the goon as he struggled against his restraints, holding him down. Zsasz was sure the man was in on your little number, and he thought it was cute; you were pretending to be some sort of killer, maybe trying to appeal to Roman’s face peely urges. Maybe you were trying to make the boss happy by scaring his lackey like this.

“So don’t you squirm, don't you fret, I'm not gonna hurt you...yet.” You grinned, leaning down before you shoved the man’s face to the side, letting him go as you ran back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of blood lettin’, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading...”

You pranced back to the gurney, moving with that little extra theatrical oomph that made everyone think you were just playing. You smiled as they clapped and laughed loudly. They would figure it out soon enough. 

“Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me...” you cooed, discarding the calipers in favor of a scalpel. You traced it down the goon’s bare chest, a little line of blood following the blade as it pierced his flesh. 

He let out a scream, just as you hoped he would, and you gave his little table a shove, sending it wheeling a short distance away. 

“Now don’t you cry,” You sang, “And don’t call Miriam, she’s my alibi...oh let me check your toes out!” You picked up a set of pliers, taking hold of his big toe. “Aren’t your toenails cute?” you grabbed one and pulled, the goon screaming as you removed the nail, leaving a bloody pulp behind. “...and red is such a lovely color on you!” you leaned down in his face, grabbing the opposite foot’s big toenail and yanking. “...But you won’t be needing those!”

Roman began clapping, giving a loud “Whoo!”  as he watched you. He had no idea that when you had asked him for the name of his least favorite henchman, this would be the reason. Now, watching the man suffer onstage in front of everyone while you were dancing around him in six inch heels and a scandalously skimpy outfit, Sionis was more than entertained. He was impressed, absolutely astounding by the cruelty his little burlesque dancer held inside of her. He couldn’t have hoped for more. 

“When you’ve got no knees!” you sang, dropping your weapons in favorite of a crowbar. “...Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries....”

You brought your weapon down on each of the man’s legs, somehow still managing to poise yourself perfectly as you did so. You gave him a few good whacks, then dropped the bar, leaning down to pick a knife up out of the bucket and run it over his hands teasingly. 

“...so hold still while I remove them!” you trilled. 

The man tried to sit up, struggling against his restraints, but you shoved him back down with a sweet smile. 

“...Oh, and don’t fight back,” you sang, hopping up to sit next to him. “I think you’ll find you’re missing the point, with that.”

Meanwhile, Victor Zsasz was grinning, showing off his gold teeth while he watched you. He kept a close eye on your hips as they swayed, his trained eyes following your ass as it moved across the stage. Were you really carving a man up right then and there? He wanted it to be true. He wanted to smell the overwhelming tang of blood as you plunged a knife into your victim. But he was too far away, and so he had to settle for watching instead. 

Your victim tried to scream, and you shoved his head to the side playfully. 

“That’s enough outta you!” you sang, holding his jaw tightly.

As you repeated your chorus, your knife returned to the man’s flesh and he grunted in pain, pleading to an audience that didn’t care about him. The Black Mask was a fucked up place for fucked up people, no matter how trendy it was, and nobody in the audience was going to protest when someone was torn apart onstage. Besides, Roman Sionis was far too powerful for the GCPD to go after, and as you heard him laughing loudly in the audience, you had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to send anyone after you for carving somebody up in a way that only you could.

You kept going, peeling your underbust corset off with the same grace and dexterity that Zsasz peeled faces with. As you stood in only your bra, thong, garters and stockings, you felt exhilarated, powerful, as if you had been born to cur people up in front of an audience. 

It’s not like this was your first time chopping a body up, anyways; there was a reason you had to move to Gotham and get a new gig, after all.

Zsasz watched you. In fact, his eyes were glued to you, even when Roman walked away to chat with a few mob bosses in a nearby booth. Were you seriously killing this man right in front of everyone? Victor didn’t necessarily care for all the theatrics, but he could appreciate how seriously you took you took your craft, and he had to admit, he was surprised that this was what you had come up with when Roman told you to give him something good.

“‘Cause I’m all out of hurt, you’ve used up all I’ve got,” you taunted, sneering down at your victim as you brought your saw down on his leg. “So I’m chopping you up and still coming up squat! If I want it to bleed, I’ll just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw and saw...”

The blade cut back and forth, and Zsasz’s eyes followed it. Blood was spurting up, drenching your arms as if you were wearing red opera gloves. 

“And saw, and saw, and saw, and saw....”

“Zsasz, can you believe this?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“No, boss,” Zsasz said with a little grin, shaking his head. 

“She’s good. We may have to give her a new job...”

You paused, giving your victim a break as you tossed the saw back into the bucket, drops of blood spattering across the stage as you pulled out a large butcher knife. Before it could touch Roman’s henchman, you used it to flick open the clasp on your bra, tossing the thin little piece of lingerie out into the crowd. You didn’t really care where it went; you were too busy enjoying yourself. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee,” you purred, trailing the blade down the side of the man’s face. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

“So don’t you squirm, don’t you fret, I’m not gonna hurt you, oh no, no, no, not...yet.” you plunged your blade into his chest, between two of his ribs, not close enough to knick his heart but definitely deep enough to cause him immense pain despite all the adrenaline that was sure to be running through his system now.

You pulled the knife back out, blood dripping off the metal blade as you held it tightly and pranced back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of bloodletting, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading but there’s one thing you’re forgetting...”

Turning back to him, you brought the blade to his throat, and in the crowd, Zsasz’s eyes lit up. He was delighted. He was enthralled. His pants were getting a little tight, but whatever. The rest of the audience was gazing up at you with wonder, disgust, amusement...but Zsasz was absolutely admiring the way you so confidently played with your victim. The theatrics were starting to grow on him, he decided, and he wanted nothing more than to go right up there and lick all that blood off your face.

“There’s nothing like the thrill of a shredding,” you sang, almost snarling, “but this is no orthodox beheading...”

You destroyed the man on the gurney, carving through him, drenching yourself in blood in an almost comical way. 

“Cutting you up,” you sang as you made an absolute mess. “Cutting you up...”

“Cutting you up is gonna be....” you finally stepped back, catching your breath as the song slowed. “...so refreshing for me.”

As your routine finished, you took a little bow, still holding the knife as you crossed your ankles and bent at the waist in a delightfully fancy gesture. The man on the gurney was very much dead, blood dripping down onto the stage, and the audience was still eating up every second of it. You could hear Roman cheering, and as you spotted him standing there amidst the crowd with Zsasz at his side, you blew them both a little kiss. 

“How about that?” you heard Roman’s voice boom above the clapping as you strode offstage. “I would call for an encore, but unfortunately, I think we’d need a new victim....”

Your head was still abuzz with the rush of killing, and you walked back to the dressing room in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Dinah Lance wrinkling her nose as you passed her, but you didn’t pay her any mind. Absolutely nothing could kill your good mood now. 

“Well?” the house mom asked as you made your way to your mirror. “Sounds like it went well, judging by those cheers...”

You smiled and hummed to yourself, nodding as you reached for something to clean your face with. You were going to need an entire shower to get all this blood off yourself. 

“Told you.” the house mom snorted a laugh. 

“He loved it,” you grinned. 

She shook her head in amusement. “You are one fucked up girl, I’ll tell you that much.”

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you joked, raising a towel to start working at wiping your face. 

“Oh, pussycat?” a singsong voice made you freeze. 

You could see Zsasz in the mirror. 

He was leaning in the doorway, smirking as he watched you. “Boss wants to talk.”

You paled. Had you fucked up after all? Did Roman get his shits and giggles and now planned on having Zsasz peel your face off? Sionis was infamous for his fickle moods. You’d watched him have plenty of people dragged off into back rooms just for speaking at the wrong time, and you had just done way worse than interrupt him. 

 You gawked at Zsasz, still staring at his reflection. What were you supposed to do? Run? He was blocking the only door, and there was no way you’d be able to get past him. You had no choice but to follow him to Roman. 

“O-Okay,” you managed to stammer out, finally turning towards him. “Lead the way.”

“Might want this.” he held up the bra you had tossed, twirling the strap around his finger while he gave you a smile that showed off his gold teeth.

“Give me that!” you snapped, rushing towards him.

“Ah.” he held it above his head, leering down at you. “Think I like this view more...”

“Zsasz!” you protested, scrambling against his chest and practically trying to claw your way up him to get your lingerie. 

He froze. He finally smelled the metallic tang of all that blood covering you, and coupled with the feeling of your tits against his chest...oh, he was so fucked. 

When he dropped the bra, you grabbed it from him, tossing it back to your mirror and moving to pick up a silky red robe off a nearby hook. You shrugged it on, tying it shut while Zsasz cleared his throat and offered you his arm. 

“Such a gentleman,” you sneered, taking it anyways. 

“When I want to be.” his voice was low and rough, as if his vocal chords were scraping against each other with every syllable. 

You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded, as he led you out into the club once more. The band was playing as a few people cleaned up the carnage you had left behind, the bar’s patrons all chatting and drinking again. It was as if nothing had even happened and they hadn’t just watched a man be torn apart onstage a few minutes prior. 

Zsasz took you to Roman, the crowd parting before the two of you easily. Sionis was sitting in his favorite booth, sipping his drink and laughing, still seeming to be in a very good mood.

“Ah, there she is!” He said when he saw you, standing up and spreading his arms.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked nervously as Zsasz let you go.

“Yes, yes, I had Mr. Zsasz grab you so that I could congratulate you on a thrilling performance.”

You stared at him. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? I loved it, darling! A bit messy for my tastes, but a lovely show, truly, though I suspect our dear Mr. Zsasz here wishes he could have been the one to take care of your victim. Isn’t that right, Zsasz?”

You glanced up at Zsasz. He grunted, not necessarily in agreement. He didn’t hate watching your performance by any means, and as much as he enjoyed helping little birds fly away from the world, he rather enjoyed watching you do it, too. 

“I’m glad, Mr. Sionis,” you said. 

“I told you, call me Roman.” he took a sip of his drink. “You know, normally, I don’t enjoy it when someone kills the people that belong to me, but I must admit, you certainly have a way with a knife.”

“I would have asked your permission, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” you gulped. 

“And what a lovely surprise it was!” Roman laughed loudly. “You’re very talented...in fact, how’d you like a promotion? Yes? Perfect, perfect! No, no, don’t shake my hand, you’re...well, you’re covered in blood. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.” He snapped his fingers. “Mr. Zsasz, take her up to the penthouse so she can clean up, I don’t want all this blood getting on the new carpeting in here.”

“Oh, Mr. Sio--Roman,” you cleared your throat, “I can use the shower in the dressing room, really, it’s no trouble--”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” he waved you away. “You’re part of the team now, aren’t you? Besides, a job well done deserves some sort of reward. Zsasz will show you upstairs. Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless.”

As Zsasz put a hand on your lower back, you had your doubts. Harmless wasn’t really a word you would choose to describe Roman’s right hand man. 

“Come on, princess.” Zsasz purred, guiding you through the crowd before you had much of a chance to protest. 

He took you to the elevator in the corner, the bouncer standing guard in front of it stepping aside with a nod. The man hit the up button, and soon, you were pressed up against Zsasz in the small space, on your way up to Roman’s spacious penthouse. 

[marjansmarwani]

that’s alright, my heart is okay

2.8k || ao3

The Reyes come to dinner, Owen shows up late (with the limes), and TK has some words with his father. But most of all: Carlos has a victory, and TK and Carlos share some moments. -------- A 2x11 coda

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

Yes this coda took me forever to write, but here it is: the dinner scene I wish we had gotten to see. 

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

It was the third muttered curse that brought TK into the kitchen. The first two had caused him to look up from where he was setting the table, but the third slightly louder and forceful “fuck” from his usually even-tempered boyfriend grabbed his notice. 

“Anything I can help with?” he asked as he stepped into the kitchen area, surveying the scene to locate the subject of Carlos’s ire. 

“No,” Carlos responded, voice weary and full of frustration. “I just can’t get this damn sauce to thicken.” 

“Maybe add more cornstarch?” TK suggested. “What?” he said defensively when his boyfriend tossed him a surprised look, “I pay attention! How could I not,” he added, stepping closer and placing his hands lightly on Carlos’s hips as he closed the distance, pressing himself against the other mans’ back, “watching you in the kitchen might just be one of my favorite pastimes. It’s really something to behold.” 

He was rewarded by the sensation of Carlos’s body shedding some of its tension at his touch and a slight shiver as TK’s words brushed across the exposed skin of his neck. He pressed a light kiss on the side of his neck and watched as he took a deep breath. 

“You’re right, that should help. Could you grab it for me?” 

TK pulled himself away from Carlos to cross to the cupboard with the backing ingredients. He grabbed the box of cornstarch and headed back to Carlos, stopping short and holding the box just out of his reach. “Only if you relax,” he said and Carlos raised an eyebrow. 

“Is this a negotiation?” 

“Yes,” TK confirmed. “I hate seeing you so tense. They’re your parents, Carlos. They love you and that’s not going to change, no matter how runny the sauce is.” 

“I know that,” he admitted, looking back down at the pan simmering on the stove. “I just want everything to be perfect. It’s their first time officially meeting you, and I want them to love you as much as I do.” 

“I hope not,” TK quipped, “that could get awkward.” When Carlos didn’t return his grin, he sobered. “I get why you’re nervous,” he admitted, “I’m nervous too. But stressing over the food or swearing at your stove isn’t going to change that. All we can do is relax and be ourselves because that’s who we want them to see. Us, just like we always are. We make a pretty good team, remember?” 

Carlos turned down the burner and stepped closer, wrapping a hand around the arm holding the cornstarch and pulling it down so he could step closer to TK, “We do,” he asked with a soft smile, “don’t we?” 

“Always have and always will,” TK confirmed. “Besides, if we can handle my parents, we can handle anything.” 

Carlos chuckled and leaned forward, stealing a kiss before he stepped away again, holding the cornstarch. “There is that,” he agreed. 

---------

Carlos is surprised by how normal it all is. 

From the moment his parents arrive, they fall into a rhythm. His mother apologizes for messing up TK’s name that one time, his dad gives him shit about it. TK jumps in, tossing him a teasing smile and then they’re all smiling. There is the brief crisis of the limes but TK swoops in, saving him from his own anxiety as he so often does. From there though, things go smoothly. He watches, a fond smile on his lips as TK patiently answers all his mother’s questions about growing up in NYC only to turn the tables and get her going about stories of his own childhood. He fakes a scowl when his boyfriend grins at him after a particularly embarrassing story, but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s pretty sure it’s impossible to feel anything but complete bliss at this moment: watching his parents banter and laugh with the man he loves in the home that they share. It felt so surreal, but also so right. 

After a few more stories though, he felt the need to stand up for himself: “Mami,” he protested in a tone just short of a whine as his mother finished telling TK of the time he had run through the family bbq naked at the ripe age of 2. “Really?” 

“It’s cute!” she defended, and he shot a look at TK when he snickered. 

“Oh c’mon Carlos,” he retorted, grinning at him, “it’s not like you haven’t heard all the embarrassing stories from both my parents already. It’s only fair that I get some from your childhood as well.” 

Carlos rolled his eyes, but he had to concede the point. Both Owen and Gwyn had been more than willing to share stories from TK’s youth during their time spent at the Strand house - there had even been pictures involved. But the mention of TK’s parents brought something else to mind. 

“Did your dad say where he was on his way from?” he asked lightly, not wanting to cause any undue worry, “it’s been a while.”

Too long for the two mile distance between the two homes, he added to himself. 

Though he didn’t verbalize his concern he could see TK coming to the same conclusion as he frowned and glanced at the clock on his phone. He bit at his lip before he rose from the table, phone in hand. “I’m going to call him real quick,” he said, “excuse me.” 

He stepped away and Carlos tracked him with his eyes, well aware of the panic TK was trying to hide. TK placed the call and Carlos pulled his eyes back to his parents who were both watching him. 

“¿Todo bien, mijo?” his mother asked softly. 

“Sí,” he responded quickly but when his dad raised a skeptical eyebrow he sighed, “Owen had surgery a few days ago, and TK’s worried. He’s not exactly known for taking it easy and TK is concerned he’s going to push himself too hard.” 

“What kind of surgery?” his father asked. 

“To remove the last of a tumor from his lung,” Carlos responded absently, his gaze turning back to TK who was lowering the phone from his ear with an anxious look. He got up from the table, crossing over to where TK stood in the living room. 

“Hey,” he asked gently, “what’s going on?” 

“He didn’t answer,” TK told him, looking at him with fearful eyes. “Carlos, what if…”

“No,” Carlos said firmly, “don’t go there, Ty.” 

“I can’t help it. What if he tried to do too much and put too much strain on his lungs? What if…”

“Try calling him again,” Carlos urged, “maybe he just didn’t hear his phone the first time. If he doesn’t pick up, we’ll figure something out.” 

TK took a deep breath and nodded, tapping at his phone again and lifting it back up to his ear. Carlos watched anxiously as it rang, heart sinking when the voicemail picked up again. TK met his eyes and Carlos hated that they were so full of fear. 

“Okay,” he said evenly, “we can go over there, just to make sure everything’s okay.” 

“But your parents…” 

“Will understand,” Carlos said firmly. “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure everything’s fine. It’s probably just a simple mix up.” 

Before TK could respond the phone in his hand began to vibrate. He barely gave the screen a glance before he answered it, speaking quickly into the phone, “Dad? Are you okay?” 

“Of course I am, sorry I missed your calls. I just got tied up while running errands, I’m on my way now. I’ll see you all in a few minutes.” 

TK hung up the phone and looked at Carlos, who gave him a smile, “See,” he tried, “he’s fine.”

“Is he though?” 

“What,” Carlos asked, “you think he’s lying?” 

“You don’t?” 

Carlo had to concede that it all did sound fairly suspicious, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. “He’s on his way here and we can figure it out then,” he said instead. “It’s going to be fine.”

TK took another deep breath, chasing away the last remnants of panic before he nodded, squeezing Carlos’s hand. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, “and we should really get back to your parents, we’re being rude.” 

Before Carlos could so much as protest, TK was crossing the room and sliding back into his seat at the table, a wide and bright grin plastered on his face; masking the anxiety Carlos knew was still roiling through him. He followed suit and the easy conversation flowed between them - TK as it’s eager facilitator - until there was a knock on their front door a few minutes later, as promised. 

Carlos watched as TK crossed to the front door, opening it to reveal his father, holding a bag of limes triumphantly. 

“I hope this means Margaritas,” he said jovially, his bravado never wavering under TK’s analytical gaze. He offered no explanation for his prolonged absence and after a moment, TK seemed to accept the inevitable as he stepped aside to let his dad in. 

He gave no indication that he was anything less than perfectly content as he facilitated the introductions, but when Carlos caught his eyes out of the gaze of the others he shook his head and Carlos understood: he wasn’t letting it go, but he would wait. He was almost certain his boyfriend had zero intention on letting his father leave their home tonight without answers. 

So he followed suit, squeezing TK’s arm in silent support as they passed in the kitchen; following along as he made conversation. Despite the tension it was still an enjoyable night and Carlos was still marveling at how easy this all felt. It felt as if it should have always been. This was further reinforced as his mother insisted on joining him in the kitchen to put the final touches on dinner. 

As they stood side by side, transferring the food from the pans to platters she leaned into his space, placing a hand on his wrist and squeezing it gently. “I like him Carlitos,” she whispered, eyes on the group at the table, TK laughing at something Gabriel had said. Carlos followed her gaze and could help but smile wider when TK met his eyes. 

“I like him too, Mami,” he agreed, “an awful lot.” 

She smiled at him, eyes moist as he patted his wrist again, “I’m so happy for you, mijo. All I’ve ever wanted for you was to find someone to love you as much as you love them.”

Carlos turned to his mom, meeting her eyes for a moment and seeing the moisture in them. He gave her a smile and set down the dish he was holding, placing a hand on top of the one resting on his wrist. 

“Me too,” he agreed, “and I did.” 

---------

Eventually, they parted ways for the evening. 

The Reyes left first: Andrea with a kiss for both the boys and Gabriel with a hug for his son and a handshake for TK. Carlos saw them to a door and with a wave in Owen’s direction, they were gone. 

Carlos shut the door behind them and silence fell over the living area as TK looked to his father. He tried for a smile, but TK didn’t return it. 

“Are you going to tell me what you were really doing? What actually happened?” he asked instead, and Owen froze. TK could feel Carlos coming up behind him, silently offering support but he didn’t pull his gaze from his Dad’s face. The silence stretched on and eventually, TK shook his head. 

“Thanks for bringing the limes, I guess,” he muttered, turning away. 

“TK…” 

“What, Dad?” TK asked, his tone exhausted. “Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on? Are you finally going to listen? Because if not, I don’t think there is anything more to say.” 

He turned and walked to the door, feeling both Carlos’s and his dad’s eyes on him the entire way. He opened it and turned back, eyes seeking his father once more.

“I think you should leave, dad.” 

“Son,” Owen began again, walking towards him. 

“You’ve made it painfully clear that what I think isn’t important. I just want you to be safe, to do what is best for you but it’s like talking to a brick wall!” he exclaimed, causing Owen to freeze and Carlos to step closer. He closed his eyes and took a breath - yelling wasn’t going to help anyone. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to help yourself,” he said instead. “But I want to help you, dad. I just want you to be safe.”

“This is about something bigger than you or me, TK,” Owen said instead and TK had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 

“It always is, isn’t?” 

He watched as his dad’s expression faltered. Then he shook his head and walked towards the door, pausing next to TK. He glanced at him and for a moment looked like he had something to say. TK waited but a moment later Owen shook his head and stepped out their front door into the night. He took one step down the path before pausing and turning back. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow” he said, and TK wasn’t sure if it was more a promise or a question.  

“I guess that depends on what you have to say.” 

With that TK shut the door, pressing his forehead against it and closing his eyes. He stayed like that for several moments, until he felt the warm weight of hands on his shoulders, rubbing soothing patterns against his skin. 

He opened his eyes and turned so he was facing Carlos, who was studying him with concern. 

“I’m okay,” he told him softly. “He’s just…” 

“Frustrating? Stubborn?” Carlos offered. 

“Infuriating,” TK concluded with a groan and a shake of his head. 

Carlos hummed sympathetically, “But he’s also your dad, and I know how much you love him and care about him.” 

“I do,” TK agreed, “which makes this even more frustrating.” 

They were quiet again as they each considered the implications of the last few minutes before TK flopped forward with a groan, burying his face in Carlos’s chest. “I’m sorry he ruined dinner with your parents,” he muttered into the material of his boyfriend’s sweater. “I know how important this was to you.” 

Carlos laughed lightly and wrapped his arms around TK, “He didn’t ruin anything.” 

TK pulled his face from Carlos’s chest to give him a dubious look and Carlos continued, “Yeah, maybe he could do with a second impression,” he conceded, “but he didn’t ruin anything. They came and we all had dinner together. My parents and the man I love all ate dinner together in our dining room, and it was fine. Better than fine actually: they really like you.” 

“You think so?” TK asked, unable to keep the uncertainty from his voice. 

“I know so,” Carlos confirmed. He grinned at TK for a moment before his expression shifted and he reached out a hand to caress TK’s face.

“I never thought I’d be able to have this,” he admitted. “For so long I figured it was either my family or whoever I decided to date, never both. But,” he added, a smile spreading across his face, “someone very smart told me that nothing ever stays the same. Turns out, they were right.” 

“This person was very smart, you say?” TK asked, a grin breaking through the cloud of emotions. 

“And handsome,” Carlos added. “and kind and a terrible cook, but I won’t hold that against him.” 

“I think their cooking skills have likely improved,” TK quipped, playing along. “But you better be careful Reyes, they sound like they might just be a keeper.”

“They are,” Carlos agreed, “and I intend to, for as long as they want.” 

“I can’t speak for this mystery man,” TK replied, “but I think the answer to that might be the same. I don’t think he has any desire to go anywhere else either. I think you might be stuck with him for a long time.” 

“That’s good,” Carlos agreed, leaning forward to press a soft and gentle kiss to TK’s lips, “because my parents kind of like him; I think my mom would be upset with me if I let him slip away.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” 

Carlos hummed, pulling back just enough to see TK’s face; to memorize this moment of all of his childhood fears being proven wrong. It had happened in small bits each, a little at a time, but this moment — a kiss shared in their living room after dinner with his parents — seemed to be the culmination. He never wanted to forget it. “No,” he agreed, a smile on his face as he ran a thumb over TK’s cheek, “we can’t.”