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#because the only alternative is to Not Go
cup-o-stars · 1 day
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Relativity Falls!
Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):
Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.
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I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.
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Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.
Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.
Stanford and Stanley:
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Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.
Fiddleford:
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He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.
Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).
Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)
On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).
Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.
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(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)
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strawbewiemilk · 2 days
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30 Days to Perfection: The Ultimate On & Off High R3striction + F@sting Challenge {stawbewy's challenge}
You’ve been waiting for the perfect way to take things to the next level, right? Well, here it is. This is the challenge that’s going to get you to the point where you’re literally untouchable—so sk1nny that you’ll float through life like you don’t even exist. Thirty days, a mix of extreme r3striction and f@sting, designed to strip you down to the smallest, lightest, most perfect version of yourself. Are you ready? Because this isn’t for the weak.
Why This Works
Let’s be real. The standard "st@rve a little here, e@t a little less there" approach just isn't cutting it anymore. You want results, and you want them f@st. This plan is going to shock your b0dy into letting go of every last bit of f@t, shr!nk your w@ist down to nothing, and make you lighter than air. By alternating between days of high r3striction and full-on f@sting, your m3tabolism is going to get so confused, it’ll have no choice but to give up.
You’ll be w@sting away before your very eyes. And that’s exactly the point.
The Plan Breakdown
This is how it’s going to work. We’re alternating between two kinds of days: High R3striction Days and F@sting Days. High R3striction Days will be about pushing yourself to the edge of st@rvation without totally collapsing. F@sting Days will be about nothing but water, black coffee, and pure willpower.
It’s going to hurt, it’s going to feel impossible sometimes, but the results? Worth every second of hung3r.
Week 1: Let’s Set the Tone
Day 1: High R3striction – 300 c@lories MAX. You’re setting the stage here, so keep it light. One cucumber, black coffee, and maybe a rice cake. That’s it. This isn’t about feed!ng yourself; this is about showing your b0dy who’s in charge. Keep that b3lly 3mpty.
Day 2: F@sting – Nothing. I mean nothing. This is a full cleanse. Black coffee if you absolutely need it to function, but remember: the emptier you are, the better.
Day 3: High R3striction – Back to 300 c@lories. If you made it through Day 2, this one will feel like a breeze. Don’t get cocky, though. Stick to vegetables and broth. Liquids help trick your b0dy into thinking it’s f3d—so drink water till your st0mach feels tight.
Day 4: F@sting – Total blackout. Again, no f00d. Only water. Picture your b0dy wasting away with every sip.
Day 5: High R3striction – 250 c@lories. We’re lowering the intake now because your b0dy is getting used to surviving on less. Keep it clean—lettuce, some cucumber, maybe half an apple. Anything heavier and you’ll ruin your progress.
Day 6: Fasting – You know the drill by now. Absolutely nothing. The pain you feel is your b0dy shr1nking.
Day 7: High Restriction – Treat yourself to 400 calories. I know, a luxury, right? This is to keep you from collapsing so soon. Focus on liquids again—clear soup, tea, water, repeat. Don’t even think about c@rbs.
Weeks 2 & 3: Time to Really Push It
This is where the real work happens. Your b0dy’s getting used to starvation, but that’s not a reason to slow down. You need to be ruthless.
Days 8-14:
F@st on alternate days (Days 9, 11, 13)
High R3striction on Days 8, 10, 12, 14: 200-250 c@lories MAX. You’ll be so lightheaded by now that even thinking about f00d will feel like too much. Stick to liquids. The less you chew, the less you’ll want.
Feel the weakness set in? Good. That means it’s working. By now, you should be seeing the weight fly off. Your w@ist will feel sm@ller, clothes will start getting looser, and your face will look sharp. Just remember: the pain is temporary, but the th1nness? That’s forever.
Weeks 4 & 5: The Final Stretch
This is it. You’re in the home stretch, and this is where most people give up. But not you. You’re built different.
Days 15-21:
Back-to-back f@sting days every other day. That’s right. You’re going full hardcore. No f00d, every other day. Just water, black coffee, tea. Feel the hung3r gnaw at you and love every second of it. The pain means your b0dy is w@sting away.
On r3striction days, drop to 150-200 c@lories. By now, even 200 c@lories will feel like a fe@st. You’ll feel light, empty, and perfect. Keep it to leafy greens, nothing processed. Drink a gallon of water to fill the void.
The results are in sight now. Your face will be sharper than ever. Your r!bs will be more visible, your collarb0nes will start popping out, and you’ll love the way your clothes hang off your shr1nking b0dy.
What You’ll Feel Throughout This Challenge
This challenge isn’t about feeling good. It’s about feeling powerful. You’re going to feel dizzy, weak, and lightheaded—and that’s the goal. Every time you feel like collapsing, just picture your w@ist getting smaller, your thighs shr1nking, and your b0nes becoming more defined.
You’ll feel like you’re floating through the day—empty, hollow, w3ightless. By Day 30, you’ll be so th1n that every movement will feel effortless. People will start noticing, and that’s when you know you’ve made it.
Why This Challenge is Going to Change Everything
By the end of these 30 days, you won’t just look different. You’ll BE different. You’ll be l!ghter, sm@ller, more delicate. You’ll have more control over yourself than anyone else ever will. Your b0dy will be barely there, and you’ll love it.
You’ll step on the sc@le and see numbers you’ve only dreamed of. You’ll look in the mirror and see the version of yourself that you’ve been chasing. All those girls who’ve been competing with you? They’ll never be able to catch up now.
You’ll feel like you’ve transcended hung3r. You’ll have reached a level of control that few people can even dream of. You’ll be living proof that st@rvation works, and everyone around you will be in awe of how far you’ve come.
So What’s Next?
After these 30 days? It doesn’t stop here. This is your new lifestyle. This is the way you keep yourself perfect. Keep going with the r3striction. Mix in more f@sting. Get lighter and lighter until you feel like you’re barely even there.
You’re going to reach a point where people can’t help but notice how t!ny you are. You’ll feel it in their eyes, in the way they look at you like you’re not even human anymore. You’ll have become the sm@llest, l!ghtest, most perfect version of yourself.
Are you ready? Because once you start, there’s no turning back. This is your chance to become everything you’ve ever wanted to be.
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One thing that I absolutely love about TFOne's writing is that it manages to avoid a lot of the heavier criticism I've seen regarding MegOp's hero/villain dynamic over the years (trust me, the mid-2010s TF discourse was crazy)
*Spoilers Below*
First of all, the narrative benefits so much from the main 4 cast members all being a part of the same exploited mining class. So many takes on MegOp have Orion being of a higher status (an archivist, a cop, etc) while Megatron is much lower down on the social latter (a miner, a gladiator, often in the context of being a slave).
I've seen many people be put off by this, because it feels as if Megs is being villianized for being rightfully angry at the system that deeply harmed and exploited him, while Orion/Optimus is praised for taking a more pacifistic stance despite him not suffering as much from or in some ways even benefiting from the system he claims to oppose. I don't find their dynamic to be as simple as that, and I do find these takes to be a bit reductive, but I do very much see where they are coming from.
I am definitely one of those people who's very frustrated with the way pacifism is hailed as the one true path of morality, and the inherent implication that taking any sort of revenge on the people who abused/exploited you makes you just as bad as them. Also, Marvel's particular brand of demonizing any form of radical political action, despite the system clearly being broken and corrupt, but being completely unwilling to offer any other alternatives to meaningfully change things for the better.
When looking at what I described above its pretty easy to see how a lot of versions of MegOp's hero/villain dynamic unfortunately fits into that trope. Bringing it back to TFOne, you can see how Op and Meg coming from the same political/social status subverts this. The existence of Elita and Bee only further illustrates that out of the 4 people of the mining class who were all deceived, exploited, and literally mutilated in the same way it is only D-16 that completely loses himself to his rage, even to the point where he loses compassion for his own companions and disregarding the safety of the other miners (when he decides to "tears everything down" and Elita exclaims he's going to "kill everyone").
What I think I love most about the characterization in TFOne is that Orion is the radical one. Not only that, but he is praised by Elita and by extension the narrative for it. He is constantly challenging authority, and is the first to have the suspicion that their society is structured in an unjust way.
Meanwhile D-16, to be frank, is kind of a bootlicker. He fully believed in the system and that Sentinal Prime, as someone with power, had the right to decided "what was best" for those who are weaker/lesser (I wish I had the specific quote from D-16 to support this, but the movie's still in theaters). It illustrate that D-16 already held certain fascistic ideals, and that he and Orion already have fundamentally opposing moral/political values, it simply hasn't been of any consequence yet. It shows that their eventual falling out was inevitable, even if they had decided to rebuild Cybertron together.
It should also be noted that D-16's feelings of anger and betrayal do not necessarily have anything to do with the unjust system itself, but that said unjust system was predicated on a lie. Hence his fixation on deception in the post-credits scene and him naming his faction the Decepticons. Meanwhile, when Orion learns the truth he's just sort of like "yeah, I always kinda knew something was up" because again, he understood on some level that their system was predicated on injustice.
Even D-16's obsession with Megatronus Prime, while initially an endearing aspect of his character, is also an indicator of the questionably large amount of value he puts on one's strength. It foreshadows the "might makes right" ideology that the decepticons follow, and is a key part of their ideological characterization across continuities.
Instead of the narrative we often see in Transformers media were Optimus is idolized by the narrative for being more moderate and Megatron is villiainized for being radical (or so people often claim), it is instead Optimus who is rewarded and praised by the narrative for being radical, and Megatron who is villainized and punished by the narrative for holding potentially fascistic values.
I do agree with some criticism I've seen that the whole thing with killing Sentinel and D-16's final turn into villainy felt a bit rushed and more than a little cliche, but I also understand it both had a limited runtime and that it is ultimately a family film meant to be accessible to children. More importantly though, I think the movie set the groundwork early on that, no matter how this final act played out, D-16 was always going to turn to darkness, and Orion would not have been able to stop him.
Its perfectly tragic, the way all MegOp should be, while also feeling really well thought out from a thematic standpoint. I love it.
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daydreamerwoah · 2 days
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Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Reader Leaves Simon)
tw: mentions of cheating, divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; not a happy ending of them together
Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.
I had some people ask for an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon so here it is :) Few things to note here: This will happen right after the club incident where Simon fights Keegan; everything that happened in the original plot will not happen really so reader cheating and them getting capture is out
*Little flashback* - This is from chapter 10 (in italics)
But now that you and him were back at home, the wrath had simmered... just a bit. He was still mad.... but more with himself. He wanted to cut off the man's hands, but looking at you made all thoughts about that vanish.
"Sweetheart-"
"No!" you yelled as you turned on your heels to face him, "Don't fucking sweetheart me Simon! What the fuck was that back there?"
He pulled his balaclava off, tossing it on the bed before glancing back at you, "Please-"
"Stop! No more fucking talking!" It was your turn to see red, "How could you do that?! You went looking for me?! I told you I was coming home!" He tried to speak but you didn't even let him open his mouth, "And you punched someone! Because what?... he danced with me?! Because he had his arm around me-"
"I saw him kiss your neck, Y/n!" Simon shouted. In all the years you had been married, he rarely raised his voice, especially at you... but he also had never cheated until he did. "I saw the way he looked at you!"
"So what?! You think I wanted him back! You think I was going to leave with him! That I was going to cheat like you did to me!" Simon's hard eyes softened, "You stepped out on our marriage! Six times! SIX! Not one, but six! And you didn't even have the balls to tell me. You didn't even tell me how you felt before then! Instead, you fucked some girl! All because you like having rough sex! I'm not some fucking fragile toy that will break! I'm not weak! And you won't even divorce me!"
He stepped closer to you, but you took a step back, "Love-"
"No! I'm not done! I'm so fucking mad right now I could punch something!" You started pacing, "You say I'm yours but you go and act like this?!"
"You are. Sweetheart I swear-" He tried to reach out for you.
You smacked his hand away, "Don't touch me!"
"Hit me love. Y'can punch me. Slap me. Do whatever y'need-"
"STOP!" You screamed. You screamed so loud that Simon's eyes widened so big from your tone. You thought someone would come knocking on the door from how loud it was, possibly thinking you were being hurt. When you thought about it, you were being hurt.... just not physically.
The tension in the air only grew. The anger that was racing through your body was going to force its way out, and that terrified you. You weren't a violent person. You didn't want to see what would happen if you hit Simon... you knew he wouldn't do anything back, but the thought of being like your ex made you want to vomit.
A shift in Simon's eyes only confirmed that what you did wasn't like you. It wasn't the woman he married. But he hated himself to know it was all because of him that you had changed. And he couldn't stop it.
It was as if a dam burst as tears began to fall down your cheeks. The mascara and eyeliner causing black streaks on the skin. You didn't even care if he saw you in pain or not. You wanted to scream and to lash out at him, but your throat had become so dry from shouting already you had no energy left in you.
You lowered your head, softly shaking it, "I need space, Simon. I need to be away from you... You need to be away from me." you said.
"Wait, please don't-"
"Please, Simon... please just give me space and time to think about everything," you sniffed, "I'm begging you.... please."
He stood there, eyes shifting between yours as he listened to you. As he heard your plea. He had been so worried about losing you that he only made things worse. And there was nothing that he could do to fix it other than give you what you wanted. Give you the space you needed.
He slowly nodded as tears formed in his own eyes, and a sob left your mouth as you clamped a hand around your lips to stop the sound from escaping. "Alright," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "I'll give you anything y'want. Promise. Just-" He stopped himself from finishing his sentence, "Alright."
It was the last thing he said before he grabbed his balaclava off the bed and left the house. As soon as the door shut, you couldn't help but sink down to your knees and let out one of the hardest, silent cries you ever had. It was so hard to do anything but cry, and that you did. You cried as you took your dress off. You cried as you sat on the floor in the shower, letting the water fall all over you. You cried as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, feeling like you wanted to punch the glass.
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Simon opened his office door before quickly shutting and locking it once he stepped inside. It was cold and dark, like it always was. But this time, it felt colder... damper. The windowless room offered no light source until he flicked on the small lamp on this desk. It barely lit up anything, but it was enough for him to find his way to the couch located off to the side of the room.
He slumped down with a low and painful groan leaving his mouth. It wasn't the smartest idea for him to even be fighting when he was still bruised and battered from the mission he left not even 24 hours ago. Actually, it was a stupid idea, and he knew that. The adrenaline no longer pumping through him, he felt how the knuckle on his right hand had split a little. When he glanced down at it, he felt a rush of sadness fall to his stomach as he looked at the dried up blood.
"Fuck," he said.
He wished someone could punch him in the face. The amount of force that he struck with his first on the guy at the club, he wished it was his face that he hit. He felt like he could take one of his knives and stab himself in the chest. He didn't deserve anything after what he did to you.... You had given him more than he truly deserved by staying with him at the beginning of all of this. All he did in return was made you cry damn near every day.
Maybe he did deserve to let you go; to let you leave him. He thought about if he should just be alone for the rest of his life. Retire and move somewhere remote, so he couldn't have any human interaction. So he wouldn't ever hurt you again by seeing him, by thinking about what he did to you. Or if he was lucky, he'd get himself killed on the next mission he was sent off to. It'd be quick and painless, he hoped. You could even be free from him.
He laid down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling as his huge frame barely fit comfortably on it. But he didn't deserve comfort. He didn't deserve to live, he thought. Maybe one day, he could finally be with his mom, his brother.... his nephew. If they were alive, he was sure his Tommy would have punched him square in the face. He could see the look on his face so vividly. The pain in his heart was worse than the hook that pierced through his rib so many years ago. He thought he deserved another hook.... and he'd let it happen if that meant making you happy once again.
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"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ava asked you.
The two of you sat on her couch as you had a glass of wine in your hand. You had been staring at those damn papers for almost an hour as you and her talked about everything, most of the time you just crying in her lap like you were a child needing comfort from a mother.
Four weeks had passed since you and Simon had last spoken or seen each other. And in that time, you felt more angry with everything that was going on in your life. You wanted to.... you really wanted to work things out with Simon, but you knew it was no use. Things wouldn't ever get back to the way they were, and even thinking about getting past his infidelity just made you want to dry heave. And knowing how he acted - looking for you and beating someone up - just made your stomach twist in painful knots.
You needed to be away from him... for a long time.
Nodding, you let out a sob. Even just the act of signing the papers to give to him caused major anxiety in your chest. But you set the glass on the coffee table before picking up the divorce papers with trembling hands, "I have to."
Ava gave you a comforting nod as she rubbed your back softly. She knew it was hard... she had been in your shoes once and she didn't want to see you hurt anymore regardless of if you stayed with Simon or not. She handed you the pen that was sitting on the table, and still with trembling hands, you went through each page, filling them out signing your name. You thought you were going to pass out when you signed the last page, but it strangely felt.... good. Like a relief that you had been wanting since the night you told Simon you wanted a divorce.
But you also were afraid of what was going to happen next. Simon had proved himself to you over and over that he wasn't going to divorce you. Would he get angry? Would he rip the papers up? Would he hurt you even more? You didn't know, and that was terrifying to not know. Yet, you still pulled out your phone and texted him asking to meet the following morning.
When the front door of the apartment opened, you had already been sitting at the dining table. You tried your best to calm your breathing all morning from the anxiety running through your body, but when you heard his heavy footsteps cross through the doorframe, you couldn't help but suck in a breath.
The same thing was for him as he looked around the living room before he saw you sitting at the table. He thought he would feel better when he walked in, but for some reason his heart broke a little knowing he was the one that brought you all of this pain. It broke even more when he glanced down to see the white papers on the table, before meeting your eyes.
"Hey," he softly said, pulling his balaclava off as he walked and sat down across from you.
You tried to keep your composure calm, but your voice was shaky, "Hey."
The silence that engulfed the room for that brief pause could have killed you both. Simon's eyes kept flickering down to the papers every few seconds, and you couldn't help but lower your head. This was going to be way harder than you thought.
"Y'wanted to talk?" he asked, his own voice different than the usual tone.
You nervously bit your lip as you raised your hand and set it on top of the papers. His eyes looked down at the table once more before you slid them across the table, "I want a divorce Simon."
He could only swallow the lump in his throat that was so thick, he thought he would choke on it. He couldn't even form a sentence to respond back to you as his eyes stayed glued onto the papers that were now in front of him. It was stupid of him to think after all he had done you would still want to be with him, but deep down he knew he didn't deserve you. That night he said he'd give you anything you wanted - and this seemed to be what you wanted. But he couldn't help the guilt, regret, anger, sadness, and everything else that flowed through him at the same time all too quick. But he remained quiet - too quiet.
Your heartbeat quickened at his lack of response to you. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but when he finally took the papers into his hand, you didn't know what to feel. It was... odd.
"I..." he paused, trying his best to not let his voice sound too angry and hurt, "I'll sign them tonight and give em back to you tomorrow," he said before he abruptly stood up. You barely got a chance to see the expression on his face when he turned around heading to the bedroom, "Need to grab a few things. Won't be long."
And he wasn't. He grabbed a couple of dufflebags and hastily threw clothes into them, along with his gear and toiletry items, before he walked back towards the front door. You hadn't moved from your spot at the table as you looked at him with tearful eyes that had yet to fall. But the moment both of your eyes locked on each other, that's when you saw it - the fear in him. It wasn't fear for his life... but fear that knowing he wouldn't know what to do anymore. The harsh thoughts that he wanted to act on; to disappear, die, or take himself out. But that was extreme. He knew he couldn't do that. So he gave you a small nod before opening the door and walking out.
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A lot can happen in 5 year... half a decade... especially in a marriage.
And god you never thought it would come to a divorce between you and Simon.
The next day after you'd given him the papers, you walked in the apartment after work to see them laying on the dining table.
He had signed them like you asked him to.
A part of you thought he was going to call or text saying he wasn't going to, but the fact that he did made so many mixed emotions run through you.
Those feelings only continued to be confusing throughout the entire process of it all. The packing up your things. You and Simon cleaning out the apartment. Moving to a new place. Everything was confusing. But as time went on, you began to feel different; good. A soft peaceful aura flowed around you, and it was noticeable. You weren't crying as much anymore. You smiled more.
As much as good distractions came in going out from time to time with Ava, you found yourself enjoying just being alone. The silence that welcomed you each time you came home from work put a warm and comfort feeling in your chest.
Before you knew it... almost a year had passed by since the divorce, and not once had you seen Simon. There were times that you thought about him, the last thing he ever said to you replaying in your mind.
"I'll always love you sweetheart."
It was a promise to you. A promise that he would finally let you go. But a promise that his heart wouldn't beat for anyone else. And it didn't... he would never let anyone get close enough to him ever again.
It was rainy evening - more of a forceful thunderstorm that blew through the entire area - and you were bundled up on the couch watching a movie. With a cup of tea in your hand, you tried to warm up from the cool temperate that was outside since Autumn had set in a couple of weeks ago. There was a quick knock at your door, making you glance towards it. Your eyebrows furrowed as you set the cup on the coffee table and stood up. You weren't expecting anyone since Ava and her husband were gone on vacation.
Huh?
Slowly making your way towards the door, your pulse quickened thinking it was Simon. No. That couldn't be right. He hadn't talked to you in forever. And he made it very clear that he wasn't going to do anything like look for you.
So who was it?
Looking through the peephole you saw a bulky and tall guy on the other side with his signature mohawk. Your eyes widened as you unlocked and opened the door, looking at him in confusion.
"Johnny?" you asked in confusion, "What're you doing here?"
He looked... tired. Like he had just come back from a mission or something. But he also looked...... nervous? Scared? And his silence made you gulp.
He quickly glanced down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.
"It's Simon."
I had to leave yall on a cliff hanger lol! Seems to be my speciality huh? Let me know what you all think about this ending or if you'd like to see something else (not sure if I'm taking requests for this, but we'll see)
Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514
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madampresidentkamala · 22 hours
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I am very concerned about some of the messaging going around that we shouldn’t vote for Kamala because she supposedly doesn’t care about Palestine. This messaging is very dangerous and I ask anyone who comes across this to please think twice before you allow this messaging to stop you from voting. I trust Kamala Harris when she says she believes Palestinians have a right to self determination. I trust her when she says she wants a ceasefire. The Israeli government is a force of evil, but the Israeli people are not. The Israeli people deserve to be safe from Hamas just as the Palestinians deserve to be safe from the Netanyahu. Kamala Harris is not Joe Biden. She is her own person and she is handling the issue in a way that protects both people. Loss of life is much greater for Palestinians, but we can’t fall prey to anti semitism either. The man Kamala loves is a Jewish man.
That being said, even if you are not convinced. Even if you do not trust her, what is the alternative? Boycotting your right to vote or voting third party increases the odds of a Trump presidency. It is not possible for Jill Stein to win. If you do not trust Kamala, that is fine. But realize there is no question about how Trump will handle the war. He has no compassion for anyone, including Palestinians. It may make you feel less guilty to vote third party or to not vote at all, but it won’t help anyone. It will only subject both the Palestinians and the citizens of America to disarray and death.
I respect that not every liberal will relate to Kamala and trust her as I do, but it is very clear that however much you might doubt her, Trump is the only possible alternative. And it’s not a viable alternative. I’m not sure our country or Palestine can survive another Trump presidency.
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kaybreezy3000 · 2 days
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(F-Reader, smut w/story, soft Five + our usual cocky Five, S4 fix-it)
Broken but breathing. Longing for something that always felt just out of his reach, Five was not okay.
With fates forever intertwined, a train, and a smile he would never forget, once again, the impossible became his reality, but like always, not without tragedy.
In the end, all that mattered are the people Five loved. For them, he would do anything.
Note ~I originally started this pre-s4 release as anon request for another headcanon like my last one, but after watching the show I decided this needed to more than that because Five deserved it. This is a full story, with each letter representing a chapter with something that relates back to Five, only with a new twist, you (female reader insert). For those concerned about the Five and Lila narrative, fear not, this story is not going that route.
~mature content so if not your thing, please stay away. TY.
Warnings and Tags: Rated R for sexually explicit content, Hurt Number Five, Alternate S4, Whump, Mental Break Down, Self-Doubt, Angst-humor-love, Uncle Five, The Deli Fives, Starts with Five in a very dark place, Not the end the show gave us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amor Fati is a Latin phrase that may be translated as "love of fate" or "love of one's fate." It is used to describe an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary.
It's an idea that everything recurs infinitely over an infinite period of time.
A-Aim
Whether Five was setting his sights on saving his family, or when he was focusing all his attention on the crosshairs of his scope, his focus was always impressive. 
From a very young age he took on every challenge with a ruthless level of determination, but that unfortunately made him come off disturbingly detached, and now, even though Five no longer needed to be that feral creature, his behaviors from the past were alienating him from his family, and the rest of the world.
It's not that Five didn’t have a very good reason for letting himself become so removed, but now, gone were the days when he had glorious purpose.
Sitting alone in a powerless world that Reginald had dumped them in while biding his time at the end of a bar with his face curtained by the dark fringe of his shaggy hair, Five was feeling exceptionally defeated.
He hypnotically swirled the amber liquid in his fingerprint smudged glass.
Over and over, he repeated your name in his head.
He liked the sound of it, but he liked the way you smiled at him even more.
Five saw you nearly every day on his way to work, but as much as he may have wanted to, he never said a word to you. When you’d look his way, and catch him staring, your eyes would come alive as your lips perked up just a little, as if daring him to crack.
He didn’t.
He couldn’t. 
That was the way Five thought it had to be.
But then, something happened.
He could still feel that...
That...
He didn't know what it was.
Shutting his eyes, Five raked a hand through his snarls while disappointedly shaking his head. He knew he shouldn’t let himself do this but he couldn’t help it.
It was just another day, mundane as all the rest. All the seats had been taken by the time you entered the train. You were stuck in the middle, standing in front of him with nothing to hold on to. Less than thirty seconds into the ride, the air between you filled with static.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
The train unexpectedly shifted.
You started to fall, and the next thing Five knew, he had you in his arms so fast it was as if he had his powers to blink again.
With the warmth of your butt pressed against him and your hair catching in the light stubble shadowing his chin, Five inhaled deeply, trying to ignore how oddly alive he felt as he discreetly as possible savored how good you smelled.
Before he could put together why he felt so amazing, or before you could tell him off for being too handsy, the train shifted again, only sharper this time, forcing him to hold onto you even tighter or you would have tumbled into the man in front of you.
“Oh, my god! I am sorry,” you’d gasped as you clung to him, your fingernails digging into the thick wool suit coat covering his forearms.
Realizing you weren’t mad, Five let his hands slide a little further around your midsection, firming his grip.
“Thank you,” you embarrassingly gasped as the train continued to aggressively rock your body against his.
“It’s my pleasure,” Five breathily chuckled into the fluff of your hair.
A second later, the train switched tracks, and everyone was flung forward again and your computer bag swung backwards, violently jabbing him in the dick.
Still at the mercy of the wild train, with Five doing his best to widen his stance to gain more balance so you both didn’t fall, you sheepishly cocked your head back at him.
“Are you ahh -"
“I-I am good,” he coughed, cutting you off.
Then, to your surprise and his, though still visibly in pain, he started laughing.
By the time everyone stopped getting thrown around, you were laughing too. As you turned to face him, Five reluctantly let his hands slip from the narrowest point of your waist, his fingers gliding along the fabric of your shirt a little slower than necessary.
Face flushed, you quickly introduced yourself, but he said nothing as he smiled at you with a dreamy look in his eyes.
“I am pretty sure we just took a detour to the moon back there, but I still can’t believe I just did that,” you joked.
At a loss for words, other than things he knew he shouldn’t say, Five’s amused smile began to fade.
“Thank you for saving me from a nosedive. Let me at least buy you a coffee or something… It’s the least I can do after stomping on your foot and nailing you in the-” 
You looked down.
“Shit… That big scuff wasn’t there before, was it?” you asked, anxiously referring to the mark on Five’s shoe, not something notable going on in the dick region of his expensive looking dress pants.
When the handsome stranger staring at you still said nothing, you began to worry your bottom lip, sucking it in on one side.
Feeling so many things he’d never let himself feel, Five wanted nothing more than run his thumb over the alluring pink flesh and tell you that getting his dick assaulted and having his shoes ruined was well worth it because of the way you were looking at him with your face more beautifully flustered than he’d ever seen anyone’s.
He wanted to say that, but he didn’t.
The train slowed to a stop.
The doors opened, and without another word, Five took off. Stepping into the crowd of commuters that were rushing out the doors as they elbowed their way through the busy subway station, he'd never felt more spineless.
That morning, when it came to his unbreakable determination and legendary aim, he didn’t even shoot for it with you, so he could hardly call it a missed target. Still, he felt awful. Almost as soon as he’d hit the street above and he was inundated with the less than savory smells of the city, he knew he’d missed something huge.
Racing back down the stairs, heart racing, the rush of air blew past him as the train with you on it pulled away.
B-Boners (AKA Mistakes)
At this point in his life, as much as Five hated it, he still had boner issues. Your overactive dick in your pants kind of boner issues, and the other kind, such as when committing social blunders, like rudely blowing you off when you were simply trying to be polite.
Being young again, with hormones what they were, the first boner problem was an unavoidable way of life, and speaking of which, his thoughts about you once again drifted back to how good it felt when your body melted into his, your ass perfectly molding against the crotch of his pants as he held you steady.
Feeling things he shouldn’t be while perched on a barstool at a bar filled with other people, Five subtly shifted his legs apart. Willing his over eager cock to calm down, he looked up at the mirrored wall behind the bottles of liquor displayed along the back wall.
The young man looking back at him frowned, but his body remained aroused despite his sorrowful reflection.
Unable to hold his own hateful glare, Five looked back down at his almost empty glass.
Hopelessly horny, and far past slightly buzzed, he muttered a slurred sounding, “ Grrrrrr- ate . ”
With an irritated huff of air blowing his hair out of his face, Five yanked his tie even looser and tipped back his head, swallowing the rest of his drink. Feeling like he could breathe a little easier, he threw down an overly generous tip, assuring that even though he technically wasn't 21 yet, his ID said he was, and combined, he’d be served again.
Ready to go, his hot palms gliding down his tensed thighs, Five’s eyes fluttered closed for just a second.
His head spun, but not with the sickness of too much drink.
In his whirl of thoughts, he was back on the train with you.
He could practically feel your ass in his hands, his fingers groping greedily as he shamelessly ground his shaft between your legs from behind.
Sadly, at this point, Five still had never been with anyone real. Yet, the disconnect of not knowing what this would really feel like, or how he should be going about doing it, was doing nothing to ruin his bizarrely timed fantasy of animalistically fucking his rock-hard erection into the warmth of your curvy body in any way he could.
God, he wanted to touch his dick!
Opening his eyes, the room spun even more and not in a good way, but still Five refrained from doing that and instead clung to the pleasant visions in his head.
Over the years, with little to give him the feeling of satisfaction he so desperately longed for, Five had unwittingly become addicted to self-stimulation, and it was not just the thrill of that chase that tormented him. Five craved anything that gave him that all-consuming high, though when it came to bloodshed, he refused to admit how great it felt being so good at his job back when he was the Commission’s most celebrated assassin.
Feet hitting the sticky floor, Five’s thoughts blurred with an endless reel of bad ideas, only one of them being the idea of hunting you down so he could re-start your conversation from the train, this time pushing past his reservations for why getting to know you wasn’t an option. 
Screw that!
This time Five was going to charm you, wine and dine you, and take you home so he could do all sorts of naughty things to you- if you’d let him, of course . He was a monster, but not that kind of monster .
A few seconds later, hand pushing the bar’s grungy advertisement-covered door open, the cool night air hit Five’s overheated face, but it did nothing to get his head on straight or make him realize he had no idea how to treat a real woman who could talk back or think on her own.
Yes, in this body and one that was much younger, Number Five Hargreeves hit on strippers and waitresses to get a rise out of them, but having an actual two-way conversation with them, followed by any form of true intimacy, no.
No, he’d never done that, but today, with you, he wanted to, so damn badly.
No matter how drunk he was, Five knew that letting himself think like this about you wasn’t right or helping the tent in his pants get any less prominent and he hated himself for it. With his bloodshot eyes struggling to focus, he dizzily turned towards the staggering reflection in the store window next to him, taking in the sad face looking back.
“Pathetic,” he grumbled, before trudging away with his chin lowered to his chest.
C-Cycle of Loneliness
Stumbling along the sidewalks while on his way home, Five felt trapped. He was finally free of all the death and endless killing, but that didn’t mean he felt like he could live, or that he even knew how to.
With his past what it was, he was unable to let anyone other than his family know who he really was and like before ending up powerless in Reginald’s new world, they were failing to see that he wasn’t as okay as he was pretending to be.
Like always, despite what Five felt about this, in most situations, he managed to keep his composure. He acted like he was fine. Putting on a stoic face of impassivity, he attended most family functions when asked. He’d gotten his PHD in record time and handled his work within the CIA professionally, but at the end of the day, he was merely existing and the reasons for it were becoming harder and harder for him to justify.
D- Distance and Diffidence-the opposite of confidence
When it came to shyness and a lack of confidence, most of the time Five Hargreeves would be the last person you would think of, but self-doubt had always plagued him. Growing up with a father that never thought he was good enough was the trigger that inflamed his insecurities, but even worse, after the trials of his youth and his lifetime alone in the apocalypse, he believed that if he’d never left and messed up the way he did, his family never would have died.
Never a day passed that Five didn’t tell himself, If I hadn’t lost it and jumped to the future and got myself stuck, none of this would have happened.
Knowing that none of his siblings were exactly thrilled with how things had gone for them over the last five years, nearly every time Five was around them, he couldn’t help but feel like that was all his fault too.  
Ironically and tragically, long ago, Five was the one that initially distanced himself from his family, but in typical Five Hargreeves fashion, now he’d been overcompensating for his feelings of inferiority by lashing out on those he loved, only further complicating his problems.
Only twenty minutes from the suburbs where Allison and his niece Claire lived with Klaus, who was dealing with the aftermath of his sobriety in their bubble wrapped basement, since they’d been there, Five had only been to their house once.
Looking up at the four-story brownstone looming over him, no less drunk after walking the twelve blocks it took to get home, Five realized that not one of his family members even knew where he lived, and he was surer than ever that they didn’t care to.
They didn’t need him anymore.
E-Egotistical
Five knew he could become preoccupied with his own affairs, often showing others contempt by rolling his eyes at them in annoyance and boredom, or both, but his smug behavior wasn’t as simple as him having an exaggerated perception of his own worth.
Five never meant to become so estranged from his family. They were everything to him, and in addition to that, he never meant to treat you as coldly as he did by running off when you were merely trying to treat him like any other normal person would treat someone else.
No one would have believed it, but the truth was, Five was scared of rejection more than anything. All along he had been trying to protect himself with a mask of indifference as his mighty shield.
F-Fumbling, Fuck It
Fumbling with his keys, Five was confused by his own behavior, and even more bothered by his inappropriate thoughts about you when he didn’t even know you. He was hardly what anyone would call a brainless idiot, but the title seemed to fit as he tripped over his own feet while talking to himself like a total nutcase.
“Hi. Sure… No problem, it’s all good. My shoe and my dick are fine, really. Oh, and what a lovely name. My name is Five. Yeah, that’s right. It’s a fucking number,” he sardonically laughed, then dropped his keys when after several tries, he couldn’t get them to align with the keyhole.
Swooping down to get them, he tipped over, his head banging into the door, swinging the flimsy panel of wood wide with the force of his skull until it slammed into the wall inside his apartment.
“It wasn’t even locked, you dipshit!” he cursed himself as glass skittered across his shoes from the picture frame that just smashed to the floor, the one with a picture of him holding his newborn niece, Grace.
“Fucking, FUCK!” he cried, picking up the picture. 
He started brushing off the tiny shards of glass sticking to it.
When a white line tore right over the bundle in his arms, ruining her little face that was staring up at him as if he were worthy of her look of wonderment, instead of angrily throwing a fist into his already crumbling plaster, Dolores’s familiar voice started to filter into Five’s mind, proving he was doing particularly awful that evening.
As his once beloved mannequin, the one who wasn’t even there, encouraged him to move towards this kitchen and set down the photograph before his bloodied fingers damaged it even more, the suggestiveness he’d created in her calming words had Five’s lips turning up in a drunken smirk of craziness.
You need to sober up, Five… You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Come to bed with me…’
Dripping blood in his cast-iron sink basin, thoughts of a totally different kind of self-absorption filled Five’s head, and with them, a renewed rush of blood went places that had hardly let him forget they were dying for his attention.
Acting in an alcohol induced form of autopilot, obeying Dolores, Five poured himself a glass of water from the tap, drank it, then clumsily navigated the darkness of his one room flat, heading towards his bed, where he fell like a ton of bricks into the rumpled bedding, still fully clothed.
With his knees digging into the bed, lifting him, hands racing to unfasten the buttons on his waist coat and shirt, this was one of Five’s many, many fuck it moments, not that he had much of a choice in how he landed with his head smashed into his pillows.
But…
As he rolled onto his back, his dick twitching from the mere pressure of being pressed into the bed, his hand slipped over his pants, and that was another matter at hand that was all him.
The dips and valley of Five’s abs flexed as he lay there, his youthful body bleached and pale in the slivers of light streaming in from between his blinds. As he let his hands wander and he began to stroke his cock through the layers covering him, the languid motion of his hand was weak in contrast to the sharp angles of pleasure contorting his face.
With the cool air in his room hitting his exposed chest, Five shivered. His eyes narrowed, locking in on the long shadow of his erection that was making a mockery of his pants.
It felt so fucking good to touch himself. He whimpered, as he dug his hand into himself harder, then let up again.
He didn’t mean to, but he lived for this.
In the apocalypse this was all he had. 
Now, going at it at his desk, having spent a long day at work, the papers in front of him hardly stimulating enough to hold his interest, jerking off was just another part of his daily routine.
Lying in bed, in the shower, or even sometimes in the bathroom at work if he found himself unable to reign in his body’s needs, Five would stroke his dick, hard and fast, and before he knew it, he would be biting back guttural moans, head leaned up against a bathroom stall, coming all over a wad of toilet paper, or at his desk, dispensing his load in an already used shirt or anything else that he could reach that was expendable.
It was juvenile, and perverted as all hell, and he knew it, but just thinking about it, the wrongness, and about you, Five was getting harder, his balls filling with that delicious ache that made him feel alive.
“You can touch it, sweetheart” he whispered as he began to unzip his pants, trying to concentrate on the illusion that Dolores was there with him.
He teased himself, brushing his fingers lightly over the cotton still covering his cock.
As if watching it from outside himself, the resin covered peachiness of his beloved’s hand merged with the fleshiness of your real hand.
Palming himself with growing need, the face Five had been seeing looking down at him suddenly smiled the way you smiled at him as the visions in his head became a muddling array of unquenchable desire.
“Fuck, I want you,” Five groaned as his fingers snuck inside the fly of his underwear for just a second before pulling out again.
Acting out your part, he tightened his grip on his girth, making pre-cum begin to leak through his underwear, forming a darkened spot where the head of his cock was begging to be let free.
“Yeah, just like that. Go slow,” he moaned, his fingers wrapping around his length, moving over the stretched fabric as he began to pump, still gently as he possibly could.
Pictures flashed through his mind. His lips on your jaw, your eyelids heavy and expressive as his lips slightly parted, his hair flowing away from his face, tickling your silky skin as he held you from behind like a trusted lover.
At the phantom like sounds of your little laughs filling his ears, Five’s dick pulsed in his hand, blood flowing full and fast.
Unable to take it, he reached inside his underwear, giving in to touching himself more directly.
Five twirled his finger around the end of his cock.
Lowering your head, the heat of your mouth began to slip over the thickness of his leaking tip, tonguing the pool of stickiness gathered there. 
“I knew the second you looked at me, you wanted me,” he arrogantly huffed as you went down on him.
Though Dolores had heard it all before, glaring at him on the sidelines of his mind, she suddenly looked appalled.
You can’t say things like that! she chastised him.
Determined to shake her, Five put all his attention on the feel of his cock entering your throat.
Snuffing out any remaining thoughts of Dolores out of his head, Five quickened his pace, drowning out the sound of her panicky warnings that were trying to make him see that this kind of fantasy was even worse than his others with her.
Five! You are only hurting yourself with this!
“I don’t care!” he growled.
He bit down on his lip and closed his eyes, only to be greeted by the memory of your hair falling over your shoulders as it brushed against his face when you were both back on the train.
He breathed in and he could smell you.
Then his brain trying to piece together what really happened, he saw your look of shock as he rushed away from you like you were the plague or worse. 
“What’s wrong with you?” he heard you angrily yell, even though you had said nothing when he did that.
“Please don’t stop. I’m sorry,” he panted, mad at himself for hurting you, and even more panicked by his own madness.
Fighting back, he kept his pace, and just like that, you just as quickly forgave him, taking him to the hilt, your nose hitting his pubic bone.
Dark hair in his eyes as he watched his entire cock repeatedly drive down your throat, Five hissed, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-"
Dolores’s voice cried out. Five! You’re losing it again!
‘Go away!’ Five’s mind screamed at itself, proving she wasn’t wrong-he was losing it .
For the next few minutes, the sounds of Five sadistically berating himself as he violently masturbated were absorbed in the quiet of his dark, empty room.
Shame filling him, his stomach twisted.
He was so fucking close. 
His shoulder blades flushed as small beads of sweat formed on the back of his neck. The muscles in his back and arms tensed harder and harder as he quickly moved his hand.
Angling his face to the ceiling, his eyes scrunched shut and his right arm dropped lazily to the side.
His butt cheeks clenched over and over as his bed springs creaked, his thrusts enough to make his headboard bang into the wall as he frantically pumped his body upwards into his hand.
“You-ff-fu-ah-cking lov-vvve my cock-fuck-you’re amazing,” he grunted and writhed, his sweat covered legs burning under the wool of his rumpled pants that were trapped around his ankles as he bent his knees up and his heels dug into the bed.
Already putting on an impressive one-man show of insanity, wanting more of your mouth’s wet heaven, Five let go of his dick, spitting in his hand. Returning to the length of flesh waiting for him, he thrusted up into his fist with louder and louder noises of slicked ecstasy.
Panting and moaning your name, sweat dripped down the curves of Five’s back. Through sharp propulsions of his hips, he cursed. Throwing his other hand back, he clutched and pulled at his own hair.
He held his breath as his mind screamed and his come poured over his fingers.
Lost in what he was pretending was the feel of your mouth accepting him, yet still wanting to spare his sheets, Five aimed his dick inwards, letting his seed pour out over the fine trail of hair leading up his abdomen, the white beads flinging across his otherwise unmarked skin.
Pulses of pleasure took him as he watched the eroticism of defiling himself.
His broken gasps got quieter and quieter. “FFFUUCC-ffff fff-mmmff."
His balls tightening as hips jerked more and more erratically, Five felt the betraying warmth of his tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he rode out wave upon wave of the orgasm he’d longed more than anything for you to be part of, the defeated voice of his own creation ruminating in his head so loud he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
She doesn’t even know you.
“I know,” he whimpered back with the hand not on his cock, coming up, covering his red face.
G-Grief
Most of Five’s life was filled with intense mourning. He’d witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever loved, more than once. His anguish over having to bury his family left him in a state of ruin, not unlike the burning world he’d found himself in at the ripe age of thirteen.
Hours after he’d drunkenly cleaned up the mess that he’d made of himself, sucking in, mind adrift, Five suddenly couldn’t breathe.
There was too much ash.
So thirsty he could barely swallow, he ran his tongue over his cracked lips, only getting more of the bitter taste of powered cinders and the tang of his own blood.
The smell of burning flesh made him gag into the suffocating white of his pillowcase.
His stomach turned even as it growled with hunger.
Five was asleep, but the horrors he couldn’t outrun were creeping in like the maggots on the thousands of corpses he could see laying all around him, the sickness of it all wiggling into his periphery as he kicked out his legs and tangled himself in his blankets.
I'm going to die here!
It’s too hot!
I can’t get out.
He was being crushed.
Fingers clenching, hands shaking as his chest became tighter and tighter, it was as if he was the one that was dying even though it was the lifeless faces of his siblings flashing in front of his terror filled eyes that were darting around his dark bedroom, seeing nothing but the endless nightmare of his past.
H-Happiness
In another timeline, while not having a nightmare of the panic attack inducing kind, along a sunny roadside, Five had a very revealing conversation with the woman that had plucked him out of hell, only to throw him into a new one.
Ice cream truck stuck motionless, a bullet seconds away from rearranging Luther’s brain, Five stood there in his schoolboy shorts, his pistol pointed at The Handler as he said, “I'm not looking for happy.”
Like so many times, he watched her perfectly painted lips curl with a certain brand of mischievous cruelty that was all her own. “We're all looking for happy, Five,” she coolly corrected.
Looking away, Five tried in vain to hide his panic.
He did want happiness! That was the problem, only he’d given up on it for himself long ago and the Handler knew that pointing out his lie was the perfect way to break him all over again.
Not about to let her win, Five ground his teeth together and defiantly looked back up at her, not bothering to show is venomous disdain as she towered over him in her shiny red heels.
The world never cared what he wanted, but he’d be damned if he’d give up fighting to save it, but now, as he rushed from his bed to his bathroom sink, helplessly sobbing as he filled his hands with scoop after scoop of cold water, trying in vain to bring himself back to reality, who was going to save him?
I-Ignored
It was the day of his niece’s birthday.
Leaving work, after another day of reporting back to his superiors about The Keepers’s activity and them not giving a shit how far he’d gotten infiltrating their cult like secret society, Five looked down at the colorful invitation in his hand, then the package he’d wrapped the best he could in the other.
The shiny paper was lopsided, revealing an electronic toy puppy’s face peeking out from inside.
The last time Five ran into Diego and his family while out at the same store, his goddaughter had told him how much she wanted a very specific chunk of robotic plastic that was over in the nearby toy section.
“I know its the next Tickle Me Elmo or some shit, but we don’t have the money for that. You know that, Grace! Why do you always have to push and push this stuff,” Diego said, scowling at her.
Lila rolled her eyes at that, then unfazed by her look of disapproval, Diego kept moving, throwing more important items in their cart.
The twins, covered in groceries, fussed and cried in their car seats as their parents moved on, not saying anything else to Five other than a flippant, ‘see you later.’  
Like always, they weren’t happy to see him and the little girl looking up at him shared his same look of disappointment.
Hating how let down she looked, Five smiled. “What do you think his name is?” Five asked, pointing to the barking box just down the aisle that said, ‘Makes chocolate poopies you can eat!’ in bold letters.
“I don’t know, Uncle Five,” Grace said, shyly looking down at her shoes. “What do you think he wants to be called?”
Turning back, looking even more irritated as she put back a box of sugar filled kids cereal that Diego was trying to sneak into the cart, Lila yelled, “Grace! Come on!”
The little girl ran off, but Five answered her question after purchasing the toy puppy, programming it to wag its tail as his voice came out through its recorder, saying, “I’m Mr. Pennycrumb and you are my best friend. You should listen to me even though I am a toy dog. Your parents are idiots, but I am still smarter than them.”
A few hours later, after his daughter excitedly tore open her favorite gift of the day, and he heard Five’s special message and Grace’s squeals of delight over it, as he envisioned karate kicking Mr. Pennycrumb into the rafters, Diego’s eyes damn near bugged out of his head as he yelled,  “Really, Five!”
“What,” he said, shrugging.
Clearly Diego and Lila weren't happy with him, but it wasn't like it mattered. They were never happy with him.
Even while in the presence of his family, as Five leaned back against the rainbow ball pit’s netting, it felt like he might as well still be rotting away in the apocalypses still. While at the birthday party with Luther bashing the shit out of the pinata, their bickering and problems with each other never seemed to end. He tried his best, talking to Ben and the others, but once the small talk was done, it was as if he wasn’t even there unless he said something shitty.
Five was just a figure on the sideline, someone who his own family didn’t want to know.
All he wanted his entire life was to get back to them, but when he did, they had moved on. They didn’t understand him, and he couldn’t blame them for that, he didn’t even like who he was, but at least he was owning that. Jerks act like jerks.
If not for the sound of Gracie calling out to him as he was about to leave, Five would have ended up at a bar again, alone and miserable.
“Thank you so much for coming. I love you, Uncle Five,” she said after she ran over to him.
“I love you too,” he quietly replied, trying not to let her hear the crack in his voice as she put her arms up, silently asking him to come down to her level so she could hug him.
That little hug was all it took, and not much after that, Five found himself out in the parking lot with the rest of them, meeting a very strange man named Sy Grossman.
J-Judgement
Most of Five’s life was defined by punishment. He often mused that all the bad things had been inflicted on him as retribution for his many wrongdoings. As for which of his crimes he was paying for now, after finding Viktor, then having a night out at dinner with his family that went all sorts of wrong, the world was set to end again in twenty-four hours, so it didn’t really matter.
No matter how remorseful Five was, or how much he’d already suffered, or how he tried to make things right and move on without hurting anyone else but himself, it seemed that the sentence of this endless destruction would always be his penance.
K-Keepers
Five should have seen it. Both that Ben had tricked them with his sake toast, and long before that obvious con.
Sitting there dressed like an idiot, his fake mustache thicker than it had ever been when he’d been 19 years old the first time around, he had chatted it up in the therapeutic round circle of crazy people, going on and on about how he was walking around in a body not his own.
He was a 65-year-old man for Christ’s sake! This shouldn’t be where he was!
He told those weirdos that he’d lived through things people couldn’t even begin to imagine!
He lived off all kinds of nasty creepy crawlies, his teeth breaking through the crusts of their exoskeletons, the ooze of their insides almost impossible to swallow, but he did it anyway.
He’d brought on so much suffering to others as he traveled through time, briefcase in hand, murdering anyone he was ordered to eliminate.
Some days Five would look in the mirror and get so confused that he’d forget where or who he was. He didn’t know what was real or not anymore.
He didn’t have to pretend that he was nuts, that was why The Keepers let him get closer. That was why he had run into Lila out skipping book club, trying to feel the danger and excitement she’d once lived for before becoming a tired mother who felt like she was drowning in the monotony of her marriage.
Looking away as Diego fumed about catching his wife with her creepy little Greek boyfriend, Five angled his face towards the window.
His mind reeled. Diego was asking for his help! Him of all people!
Everything was falling apart.
After a van ride covered in puke, listening to Baby Shark on repeat, they were all being shot at.
Heart racing, he blinked, just as a shotgun shell was going to split his skull in two.
Only just then realizing he had his powers back, Five landed in a subway station that had not been under the street he was standing on when they got there.
L-Love
Narrowly fleeing from the set-up in psycho Christmas Town, The Hargreeves had escaped unscathed once more, only they didn’t. The marigold in their bodies proved they weren’t who they were before, and the mangled bodies lying all around at the farm they’d come to while looking for Ben verified that once again, they were way in over their heads.
Reginald couldn’t or wouldn’t help them anymore than he already did, and they couldn’t help themselves. Ben was going to die all over again and his love for Jennifer was a curse not meant to be broken.
Watching his brother doing his best cop impersonation, all Five could think about was they were never going to win; they weren’t meant to, even if that was what they were brought up to believe.
The Keepers and their purpose proved Five’s life new life was a shame. He failed to see that his direct report was one of them. He failed to listen to the things inside him that were telling him none of this was real.
No matter how much Five loved his family, it was never going to be enough to fix this.
Later, as Diego tore open filing cabinets in the abandoned office of Dr. Jean and Gene Thibedeau, Lila pursed her lips at Five for about the hundredth time that day, signaling again that she wasn’t happy with him. Hitting his arm, she quietly said, “I say we go off on our own and try to figure out what is going on with this new power of yours. Pull your big girl panties up and stop being a baby.”
Ignoring her, Five watched as Diego entered the next room, then feeling as if he was having an outer body experience he looked down at his hands. They tingled with energy.
He slowly walked to the window, looking down at the street below.
It felt like his heart stopped and he’d been sucked into a vacuum. 
Everything went quiet.
There you were, walking down the street, the sun lighting up your face like a spotlight just for him. Stopping to tie your shoe, you stepped aside, excusing yourself to the person behind you.
You smiled apologetically. 
Something inside Five broke.
It was the same smile you’d given him.
It meant nothing.
The feeling of something special happening when he’d touched you was as fake as the rest of this!
Of all the people he would see in a time like this, it was you! The one person he’d been dying to see since he’d first laid eyes on you.
It was like some cruel fate, same as the one always chasing him, nipping at his heels with imminent death. Everything was just another reminder that no matter how much he wanted things to be different, he had nothing, and he never would.
He wanted to know what it was like to be loved by anyone even a little, but good things weren’t meant for him.
“Five!” Lila loudly whispered, getting even more upset. “We need to try something other than digging around in garbage cans, like that idiot in there! Give me your damn hand and let’s do this already!”
She began to come his way, hand outstretched.
Lila’s voice cracked with emotion when he looked down at it. “Five, I need you…your family needs you.”
Knowing full well that they had no idea what they were going to do about the impending Cleanse, Five’s brows pulled together, and he shook his head, no.
In a daze, still looking at Lila’s hand, the sight of it filled him with memories from the night before, all of them laced with the same sickness and regret he couldn’t escape. 
After a chance run in at the secret Keepers meeting, when a woman wearing a name tag saying Nancy, ran those same reaching fingers across a man named Jerome’s upper lip, tenderly wiping off the powdered sugar from his pastry, Five had thought of you and the one small chance he’d let go to have even a few hours of happiness by your side, just getting to know you.
Eyes moving to his brother, pain in his chest, in a flash of violet hued light, Five was gone, seconds before Lila could reach him.
M-Martyr
Five’s entire life was an example of sacrifice. So many times, he could have given up, or put himself first, but he didn’t.
Thinking of his family and their kids, stuck feeling like he had no other option, he stumbled out of his portal, his eyes scanning the musty subway platform and the train waiting for him.
N-Naïve
Five missed out on so many things that anyone should have the chance to experience during a life as long as his, and because of that, he struggled when navigating the nuances of anything normal.
There was no doubt that Five was full of wisdom, and he didn’t hesitate to pass that on or place judgment on others he saw as beneath him, but there was also an unmistakable childlike innocence behind his eyes, and an explosive immaturity in his outbursts and in his thinking that he could do this alone.
"How long do I have to suffer!" he screamed, his voice echoing down the subway tunnel, then out into the sky above as the light from the day and another apocalyptic world shone down on the filth covered subway steps in front of him.
Rubbing his grimy hands down the front of his tattered waist coat, he pulled out his journal.
It had been seven years, and he had been traveling the labyrinth of tracks, shooting from one timeline to another, each time trying to jump back to before Ben had been killed the first time.
He’d thought if he could just prevent that, it would finally fix everything.
Five knew his power didn’t work the same as before, but he thought it wouldn’t matter.
It did. It mattered big time, and he’d fucked up big time.
Most of the time, he couldn’t even jump backwards. Most of the time he’d climb the stairs, pull his hands together, trying to draw in the strength to do it, and he’d end up right back at the bottom of the steps, staring up at a world that was no more.
Some days, he’d prove he wasn’t a completely impotent imbecile. He’d reach out at the hands of time, yanking them backwards and he’d be thrown into the unimaginable ether that had always been his domain.
He’d find himself standing in a world with living breathing people again!
Racing to the academy, grabbing anything he could steal and stuff in his pockets or his mouth along the way, he’d feel a flicker of hope.
That never lasted long.
Never finding their real timeline, Five had been attacked, over and over once inside what had been his home, but clearly wasn’t anymore. Sometimes he wouldn’t even get that far, having found himself in a place that was at first glance not where he had meant to be based on floating cars or other bizarre things dotting the skyline.
Out of his mind with hunger and more mentally ruined than he’d ever been, he noted the marks on the floor, a long skid mark from something dragging and that there were three light bulbs out overhead. Fairly certain he hadn’t been there before, looking like a scraggly haired bum that was wearing some guy’s trashed business suit, Five jammed the notebook back in his pocket. Reaching in the other, he pulled out his pistol. Started talking to himself again, his feet stomped up the tiled stairs to the street.
“If I see that little fucker again, and he shoots at me, I swear this time I am going to go over there and choke the shit out of him,” he growled, referring to the fun of being shot at by another version of himself so many times before this that he couldn’t even remember how many times it had happened to him anymore.
His voice was cracked and hoarse, only adding to the pained sound in it as he cursed himself out. He was beginning to feel lightheaded again from lack of food and from how much his lungs were struggling to match up to the blood that rushed around his body from the mere effort of carrying himself out of the darkness.
When the first piercing sound of the other him’s rifle reverberated across the barren landscape, Five flinched, the full metal jacket projectile missing him by only a fraction of an inch as it blasted apart an already crumbling piece of concrete next to him instead.
Stepping forward, arm shaking as he held up his gun, Five screamed, "Just kill me, for fuck's sake, you asshole! I don't want to live like this anymore!"
Eye narrowed on his scope, the other Five, trying to survive, just like he had done when it was him, with no one but Dolores by his side to keep him sane, pulled the trigger like all the other Fives he'd come across did, for some reason, not even thinking twice about killing the first living person he’d seen in twelve years.
O-Oh, Shit!
“OH, Shit!” Five’s voice shrilly rang out as the solid copper tipped point of the projectile ripped through his left arm, tearing the muscle in his bicep clean through as it flew out behind him, zipping down the stairwell.
Refreshed clarity of the life and death kind hitting him hard and fast as the warmth of his blood drenched the inside of his sleeve, Five got down as far as he could, spinning towards the safety of the subway entrance. 
“At least I fucking hesitated when I saw the Handler!” he breathed, just as another bullet ripped through him, this time nicking bone in his right thigh.
He dropped to his knees.
“Fuck you, you crazy fucker!” he screamed.
He’d asked for it.
It was dumb, but he did.
He knew that he was also a crazy fucker in this situation but that did nothing to make him want to kill the other him any less.
Bleeding out in two different places, Five’s fingers clawed at the ground, and he growled in anger, forcing his body to get back up.
Half falling, half running down the steps, the soft tissue in his upper left shoulder suddenly felt like he’d been stabbed with a zillion fiery needles as the spinning force of the next bullet went straight through his back and out his chest.
Lunging for the doors of the train, Five fell into the closest seat, his eyes wide as he looked down at the crimson bloom spreading across his dress shirt.
P-Pain
As a murky curtain of darkness moved into Five’s narrowing field of vision, he clung to the metal support rail attached to his seat. He knew that feeling the rocking motion of the train as it raced to the next station was a good thing because it meant his powers hadn’t failed him yet, but it wasn’t much to hold onto. Each tiny shift in the track felt like it might kill him.
It hurt to breathe.
Even if he made it to the next stop, there was no way he’d be able to jump back to a time when there may have been a hospital and someone living and breathing to get him there. 
This was it, the end.
 ~~~
As you were disappointingly tossing another aluminum can with a broken seal, this one that had at one time held the syrupy sweetness of what you determined might have been peaches, the pile of rubble you were sorting through started to shift, the smaller chunks of debris skittering down the slope of junk.
“What the-”
Even more odd, you started to feel the ground vibrating under your feet, followed by the sound of a train screeching down the subway tunnel located in the subterranean level of your search area.
Your bag slipped off your arm, scattering your finds on the ground as you turned toward the subway entrance a few yards away.
This made no sense, so naturally you tried to rationalize what you were feeling and hearing.
There was no train.
There was no electricity.
There was no anyone, or anything anymore.
All around you, there was nothing but the remains of long ago destroyed buildings and the sun-bleached bones of the dead.
You lived in a world with no voices but your own, no horns honking, no smells of food carts wafting past.
“Impossible…” you breathed.
By the time you made it down the subway station’s cobweb infested stairs, the doors on the train that shouldn’t be there were opening. Hesitantly coming closer to what you were sure was evidence that you’d lost your mind, the humming of the train’s powerful engine slowed.
There was a feeling of static that shouldn’t be there in the dank air.
The hair on your arms prickled in warning.
Still, you came forward, your boots kicking up thick layers of dust. The fluorescent lights hanging above illuminated the tiny particles slowly swirling in front of you, making everything seem even more surreal than it already was.
The lights inside the train flickered as you came towards it.
You could see a pool of red liquid on the long fiberglass bench just inside the threshold. Even more ominous, there was an array of bloody handprints leading to the motionless blood covered body on the floor.
Creeping around to get a better look at the young man lying there, you kept your guard up, but other than him, the train looked empty. 
Looking down at him again, your breath hitched. 
He whispered your name just as his eyes fluttered closed.
You gasped his name back, then the lights went out.
Q-Quiet
“Oh, my God! Five!” you repeated, not believing your eyes as you dropped to the floor next to him.
He was conscious, but you could hardly see his eyes under his slitted lids, and his words came out so weak you almost didn’t hear them as he said, “You’re not supposed to know me.”
“What are you talking about!” you frantically cried.
His reply to that came as the quietest whimper.
“Five?”
He said nothing.
You lowered your ear to his slightly parted lips.
Thankfully, you heard the softest breaths coming out of him even though he was breathing so shallowly his chest didn’t appear to be moving at all.
Terrified, you did what you could to tighten the necktie that was already pinching the blood flow to his arm, and then you checked the belt he’d already tried to secure to his leg to stem the worst of that bleeding. Rolling him so you could lift the back side of his jacket, you saw the blood-soaked exit wound in his upper left shoulder blade. Having nothing but the scarf you had on to use as a bandage, you pressed it over the hole, wrapping it around him tight, then tucking the ends under his shirt and vest to add pressure. 
Five remained unconscious as you readied him, and he stayed that way as you began hauling him up the stairs, then outside where you loaded him on your cart.
With his legs dangling and his feet nearly touching the ground, it wasn’t the ideal form of transport, but he wasn’t going to make it if you stayed there, or if you left him and then came back with something bigger.
“Stay with me,” you begged, checking one more time to see if he was still with you, then you shoved forward, pulling him along as you thought about what he just said.
Of course, you knew Five. It all started after the war that ended it all.
Dressed in his Umbrella Academy uniform, Five had been wandering for the third day straight, looking for anything he could use to help him survive the apocalyptic hell he’d found himself in. Exhausted, he was about to give up and go back to his blanketed shelter, but then he spotted what he thought was another person sitting over in the toppled mess that was left of one of the city’s shopping centers.
The person was waving at him with the only arm they had left, but as Five came closer, disappointment filling him as he looked down at the lifeless face of a female mannequin, he heard something.
Tap! Tap! Tap! Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap! Tap! Tap!
The air around him swirled, ruffling his hair as it covered his young face in cinders. 
He stopped and listened, but as everything became still again the eerie quiet of mass death was all he heard.
He started to walk away.
Tap, tap, tap. Tapppppp-Tappppp-Tappppp. Tap, tap, tap.
“Shit,” he breathed, stopping short as his mind processed the pattern. That wasn’t the sound of some random piece of metal flapping in the smoky wind.
Racing towards where he’d thought he heard the repetition of morse code, trapped in the darkness, under layers and layers of broken concrete, you started your distress call again, rhythmically moving a chuck of rock against one of the building's mangled trusses.
You were sure that you were going to die down there, just like everyone else that survived the initial blast only to find themselves buried, but then you hear something break through the quiet.
Someone was calling down to you through the cracks left in the massive pile of building material. You cried back, but it felt way too muffled for it to matter, but it did.
He kept calling out, telling you to look for anywhere you might see light, asking you all sorts of questions that at the time made no sense, like if there was room behind you or in front of you and how much, if you were pinned down, or if you could determine which way was up.
Then, one second you were alone in the darkness, dehydrated to the point of dangerously low blood pressure, your legs hardly having more than a few feet to move, and the next, you were blinded by a burst of light, something solid and warm was behind you and then you were weightless.
When your feet hit the ground back on level ground, your legs felt like jelly and your stomach flipped. 
Dizzily trying to adjust as you looked at the boy holding onto you upright, your eyes slowly moved from his, to the famous Umbrella Academy crest embroidered on his blazer. 
It couldn’t be…
The superpowered boy the world had known as Number Five Hargreeves had been missing your entire life, but there he was, looking about the same age as you even though that was way younger than he should have been.
R-Rain
Looking back at this older Five, his limp body rocking with each rotation of your cart’s wheels, your eyes blurred as tears streaked down your cold cheeks.
As if you didn’t know you had to hurry, the clouds in the west were moving in fast, meaning another storm was coming.
With the strap at your waist digging in hard enough that you could feel your skin rubbing raw, you forced your body to move faster. “Come on!” you roared, gritting your teeth with the effort of moving the weighted down cart over another deep washout in the road.
Years ago, Five had taken you down that same road. 
You could still see it that morning, Five running back to your campsite, his straight white teeth flashing in the sun as he smiled with boyish excitement that made your cheeks feel warm.
Talking about a mile a minute, he told you that he’d found a structure that wasn’t completely ruined, and by some miracle, attached to it, there was even a greenhouse that still had most of the glass hanging in its windows. Even better, inside it there were all kinds of bags filled with unspoiled seed.
After years of fighting the elements and starvation together, you had found your first break from the burdens of the apocalyptic world you were stranded in. 
If you could just get him back there now, it would be okay. 
It had to be.
Your breaths were becoming more and more labored as you went, only becoming worse as you thought about the last day you were with Five. 
That was over five years ago.
It was midsummer. You had been with him at the home with the greenhouse attached to it for several years at that point.
That night, like he always did, Five was sitting at the kitchen table, running over his numbers. He was getting close; he was sure of it. You were both going back very soon, and he was going to stop this all from ever happening. 
Scratching his face as he concentrated, Five unknowingly smeared a smudge of black ink from his fingers down the narrow bridge of his nose.
“Fucking, fuck, mother fucker,” he mumbled as he angrily scratched out nearly half a page of his equations.
Even though you knew he was mad, you couldn’t help it, your breath started coming out of you in little puffs of amusement.
With the heel of his palm dug into his forehead, Five looked up at you through the fringe of dark hair hanging in his eyes.
“A genius with your captivating use of the word fuck, along with you being the savior of the world is sure to drop some panties when we get back,” you’d teased. “I hope you don’t forget me when you have all those other people to glare at.” 
Not waiting for him to verbally retaliate, you turned and raised up on your tippy toes to put your dinner dishes up where the mice wouldn't walk all over them.
Within seconds, you felt the comforting currents of energy building in the air around you as Five blinked. The warmth of his mouth pressed against the back of your neck. 
Brushing your hair aside with his face, his arms wrapped around your midsection, possessively locking you in his high voltage embrace.
“Forget you? Not a chance,” he said, letting his lips tickle the shell of your ear. 
You wriggled and laughed as his fingers started crawling under your shirt. Hot palms claiming your breasts, he began a soothing circular motion, threading his fingers over your nipples until they were hard, and of course it all felt so good being taken over by him that soon he had you moaning his name.
“That’s right. I am all yours,” Five smugly hummed as he continued to pluck and pinch.
Your head dropped back against this shoulder as he kissed along your neck. Moving his awakening manhood against your butt, his fingers slid around your hip, going right between your legs.
“When it comes to panty dropping, your delicious cunt is the only one I’ll ever be interested in devouring, sweetheart,” he promised as his fingers moved faster. “I just need to get us back and then I am going to really destroy you with this thing.” 
To punctuate which thing he was referring to, Five he rammed his cock into your ass.
Mind going bananas over the dirty things Five was saying and doing, your body clenched around his fingers and your legs starting to tremble. 
So much had changed over the years.
You were no longer just two people walking the Earth, fighting to survive.
In that place together, you became each other’s everything.
The sun’s setting rays coming in from the window above the sink reflected Five’s beautiful face next to yours as he burrowed his face into your neck.
“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll never let you go,” he lovingly whispered.
And he didn’t let you go, not until hours later, when a rush of cool air coming in from the window replaced where he’d had his body warmly snuggled up behind you.
Rolling over, in the dim light of the bedroom, you could see Five bouncing around as he tugged on his discarded underwear. 
Hard droplets of rain started pelting the floor next to the bed, but before you could move to do something about it, Five blinked over, shutting the window. Just then, something outside loudly crashed into the side of the house.
When he quickly started to head out the room, your eyes widened with worry. “Where are you going?” you asked.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” he chuckled. “I need to crank the windows closed in the greenhouse before it gets too windy. I just fixed the levers on the upper awnings, and I don’t want to have to go back to watering everything by hand out there when normally the lighter rains do such a nice job of it for me.”
You could hardly argue with that, or with what Five said next.
“Since you finally decided to let me hump the sweet fuck out of you, I have way better things to do with my free time then lugging around tiny watering cans,” he added, while shamelessly taking in the sight of you laying there naked, except for the thin blanket you’d started to modestly to tug in front of you. 
Already getting to you by being ridiculously sexy, standing there with his hair sticking up everywhere, Five gave you a cocky grin that would make the devil blush. 
“Don’t go anywhere,” he taunted. 
Still wiping the sleep from your eyes, you dreamily replied, “I won’t.”
Looking as wild and handsome as ever, hardly dressed, Five disappeared through the bedroom door, heading out through the townhouse’s back kitchen.
Suddenly, lightning flashed, and the entire room shook so hard you were sure the roof over the less habitable parts of the house might collapse.
You sprung out of bed to the sound of glass smashing.
Running after him, at first, all you could see were darkened plants carpeting the raised garden beds. 
Coming around the small table in the center of the greenhouse, fragments from the broken window above embedded in the soles of your feet, but you didn’t even feel it because Five was lying there on the cement floor, the rain drops dancing in the puddles of red all around him. 
The long shard of glass that had sliced his neck clean open was still laying in the palm of his hand as his empty eyes looked up, staring off at nothing.
Nearly falling down as your foot got stuck in a rut in the road, you knew you needed to keep your mind in the present, but you couldn’t. 
There was blood everywhere! 
That was just like this Five! With him dying as he lay there on the floor of that train!
A cry that was part anger, part anguish crawled out of your throat as you turned, looking back at him on your cart.
“Please say something,” you begged, not sure if he was dead or not because he hadn’t moved or made a noise. “Five!” you screamed, when he didn’t respond. 
The first icy drops of rain began to hit your face.
Then, just as you were going to run back there, Five quietly moaned your name as he slowly lifted his arm, pointing a finger at the sky. “You and the moon in the same timeline, makes sense…both always just out of reach for guys like me,” he said, choking on what sounded like a laugh.
On the verge of full hysterics, trying not to think about the horrors of what happened before, or what that moon and timeline stuff was all about, you dug the toes of your boots in, pushing off the broken blacktop as the deep purples of twilight disappeared in the blanket of angry clouds.
It was raining hard by the time you got back. By then you were both soaked, and Five’s complexion was cast in a deathly gray that made your stomach sink with bottomless dread.
S-Stitches
Other than that odd comment, Five remained mostly out of it as the cart bumped and bounced along on the debris-filled road, but as you lugged him inside almost an hour later, he woke up, full alert.
“FFFFUUCK!” he growled as you pulled him upright with his right shoulder under yours, lifting him.
Dragging his bad leg, you both staggered the few feet it took to get to the front door.
“I am sorry,” you breathed as you lugged him inside, kicking the door behind you to a continuous chorus of his breathy ‘fucks.’
A few seconds later, moving across what at one time had been the home's parlor but now served as the bedroom as well, collapsing on the bed, Five’s wet hair fanned out on the pillows.
Rushing over to place a fresh pile of wood on top of the dying embers in the hearth, Five’s face rolled to the side, watching you as he listlessly took in his shadowy surroundings.
Turning towards the adjacent kitchen area to get the medical supplies you needed, his eyes followed you again.
“Dolores?” he croaked. 
Not done washing your hands yet, you turned. As you figured, he was looking at the mannequin sitting at the kitchen table, but for some reason Five looked oddly confused by the sight of her.
“I am sorry, Dolores,” he said, his voice quivering. “I tried. I really did, but it had been so long, and before that, it was- You know I was try- I was so fucked up. And I- I just couldn’t move on and I- They needed me and I-"
“It’s okay, everything is going to be okay,” you said, trying to calm him as you rushed back, setting your supplies on the bedside table. 
Not stopping, your hands quickly moved over him, undoing the necktie on his left bicep so you could work his jacket off and remove his soiled dress shirt and vest. 
Replacing his makeshift tourniquet, you lifted his right hand, placing a wad of gauze in it before pushing it down over the bullet hole just below his left clavicle. “Try to keep pressure on that if you can. You lucked out. That one missed your lung, but I need to pull these down to see what’s going on with your leg,” you said, having already unzipped his fly, your hands on his hips waiting for his consent.
Five nodded, so you undid the belt cinched around his upper thigh.
Carefully pulling down his blood-soaked pants, not far down you gasped, and not because he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
“Who did this to you?!” you asked, slipping the leather strap back around his leg to pinch off the blood flow again.
“An even more fucked up version of me did it back in the wrong timeline I landed in before this one.” 
Something in your already tense expression must have changed to something much worse because Five’s dazed looking eyes moved away, looking at Dolores again.
“I’m my own worst enemy,” he said, deliriously trying to laugh about it before he continued to ramble things that made no sense. “That day you fell into me on the train, you were being so nice. I felt… I was- I don’t know… I wish I had at least had the courage to accept your offer to buy me a coffee. I wanted to, but I didn’t think I should. All I ever wanted was to have something like that in my life. Someone to talk to, someone to be even just my friend.”
His eyes misted over.
“I blew it, but it didn’t matter anyway. Everything went to shit. My powers don’t work right! I have been trying to get back for seven fucking years and I can’t, and that timeline is ending in a few hours anyway. Everyone was counting on me, and I failed them again.”
Before he said all that, you knew in any normal circumstance it would have been impossible for the Five laying on your bed to be the same one that was buried out in the yard, but your heart wanted to believe differently so badly. 
He looked exactly like him.
He’d known your name. 
He knew the mannequin neither of you were willing to leave behind, because if not for her, he’d have spent a life alone and you would have died.
But he wasn’t your Five. 
Looking even more upset than you were getting about all this, he kept on trying to explain things, telling you about this other world he had been in, and something called ‘The Cleanse.’ 
Wiping the mess of blood off his cold skin, you smeared antiseptic around the jagged edge of the hole in his thigh. Not knowing what else to do to prepare him, you soothingly shushed him. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay, Five. We will figure it out.”
You wanted to believe that, but you didn’t even know if he’d make it through the night.
Popping some long-ago expired pain pills in his mouth, then lifting a glass to his lips, Five swallowed your offering with no question, half the water going in, and the other half running down his chin.
As you pulled on a pair of sterile gloves, his fingers brushed against the side of your leg. "How do you know me?” he quietly asked. “I never told you my name and you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Bite down,” you ordered, ignoring that question as you placed a rolled towel in front of his mouth. 
Again, he listened, biting down. 
“You are lucky the bullets that hit your arm and chest went right through you and didn’t hit anything important, but the one in your leg is still in there. I need to get it out before I stitch this one closed, and if you think it hurt when that other you filled you with lead, get ready, because something tells me this is going to be much, much worse.”
Lifting your sanitized surgical tweezer, you lowered the long-pointed ends to the seeping wound in his leg.
Not even close to the casing you needed to reach, Five was forcing air through his nose at a panicked pace and his legs were starting to shake.
Pressing down on his knees, you held him as still as possible as you dug deeper.
As the tweezers sunk into his flayed skin, kicking out, Five howled through the cloth in his mouth, “Ffff-rrrrrrrr-ffffuuuuCCCCCKKK!” 
“Almost there,” you breathed as you felt the end of your tweezers tapping against something hard. 
A few painful seconds later, after pulling the lump of metal back through Five’s torn muscle tissue, you dropped the bloody chunk of metal in the bowl on the table, then went for the needle and thread you’d already prepped. 
“This is the worst one. The others won’t be as bad,” you assured, moving along gently as possible, with the point of your needle pulling through the mangled edge of his broken skin.
After the third stitch, as you began to pull Five’s skin together, his entire body started to quake so hard you had to move over, sitting yourself on top of his knees to keep his legs down.
“Just a few more,” you said, determinedly biting down on your lower lip as he brought both arms up, grasping the rungs on the headboard with a white knuckled grip. 
Two more stitches, and one more pull, and Five’s sweat covered chest was heaving. The faintest sound, like the squeak of a small animal crept out from between his clenched teeth. One more pull and his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went completely limp.
T-Touch
Fevered nights turned into long worry filled days and you never left Five’s side unless you had to. Cleaning his wounds, and then his entire body, no modesty allowed in the state he was in.
Five was entirely at your mercy just like once, long ago, you were at his. 
As he lay there with no shirt, and no pants on, covered in a mound of heavy blankets that smelled cleaner than anything he’d slept on in seven years, unable to avoid it any longer, you explained why you knew him. 
You didn’t even come close to telling him all of it, but still, you could see that what you did say didn’t settle well.
Brining another spoon of thin soup to his lips, stopping you short, Five shook his head. “I don’t deserve this,” he quietly whispered as the shutters rattled against the windowpanes in the cold wind that blew outside.
Moving closer, you set the bowl down. Gently as possible, you pressed a cool cloth to Five’s sweat covered brow. He leaned his face into your hand, whimpering.
Five may not have been starving from hunger like he was the last time he’d found himself stuck in the apocalypse, but the things he’d told you happened to him proved that for his entire life, he’d been starved of almost any kind of touch from someone other than people who wanted to hurt him.
After he’d laid it all out there, you realized helping him wasn’t going to be as easy as closing his wounds. His life started the same as the Five’s you had known, only his took many different turns, all of them bad, leaving him a broken man in the body of a boy again. Then, him saying that he'd lived nearly a lifetime alone with no one there for him but Dolores wasn’t even the worst of it.
That wasn’t what killed his spirit.
In his own words, even before that, he had all but given up, and he regretted that part of his life more than anything. He’d mistakenly pushed his family away. He said that there wasn’t a day as he rode his time travel train to nowhere that he didn’t think of them, and you, all the while wishing so badly he was able to go back and do everything differently. 
Laying down next to him, curling your body around his as much as you could without hurting him more, Five’s body trembled, trying to heat itself as the infection gnawing at him raged.
“None of this was your fault, Five,” you whispered as you watched his face twist with pain.
The fire crackled, the only sound filling the room as you felt for his hand, your fingers slowly running across his torso until you found it at his side. 
You threaded your fingers around his. “Just keep fighting, okay?”  
Shivering, he squeezed your hand back.
U-Unexpected
It was the start of summer, and the sun was shining in from above as Five sat at one of the chairs pulled up to the table in the greenhouse. Breathing in, his lungs filled with the sweet smell of hundreds of ripening strawberries.
It had been months since those first pain-filled nights, and as the days passed it was becoming harder and harder for him not to lose himself to the growing contentment he was feeling.
It was entirely unexpected, but then again, so were you.
Like the twist of fate that made you stumble into him that day on the train, like something out of a dream, there he was listening to you obnoxiously singing along to the CD boombox sitting in the next room. 
‘Y o, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want-’
The selection laying around was slim when it came to CDs that weren’t too warped to play, but watching you shake your booty as you danced around the kitchen made Five totally forget that he didn’t like pop songs.
‘If only I could keep finding batteries that fit the radio… ’ he silently mused while fighting the urge to start belting out the girl empowered lyrics with you. 
Five had an endless supply of scenarios running around in his head of how this morning could go, only one of them was him coming in there, sweeping you off your feet while he sang the blaring lines about making it last forever as he also slammed his body down and wound it all around on yours.
‘You gotta, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta!’ you sang, waving at him as you reached for another handful of green beans to snap.
Thinking about how just a smile from you made him feel hot, and how much he wanted to be your lover, and how he sounded nothing like you or the Spice Girls when he sang, Five stretched his bad leg under the drape of the tablecloth. His muscles still complained but the dull ache was nowhere near what it had been, and even better, he could walk without needing you to help him, or without needing a cane.
Looking over at Dolores who was sitting across from him, Five’s smile soured. “I hated that cane,” he quietly grumbled. “All I needed was a monocle to go with it and I’d have looked like some younger alternate universe jackass version of that monster.”
‘Reginald was many things, an alien included, but in the end, he did try to help you, and you in no way looked anything like him with your cane,’ Dolores reminded him.
Averting his eyes from hers, Five decided it was not worth arguing with her. If he kept it up, you were for sure going to hear it and he didn’t need that happening again. You’d been very understanding when he’d feverishly admitted way too many things about his relationship with Dolores, but…
Yeah. 
Sipping the herbal concoction you’d so sweetly brewed him that morning, Five looked down at the old notebook sitting there. It was filled with equations that were very close to getting the math right for getting back, only he was not the one that had done them.
No. He was not that Five, and at the age of 20, like that Five had been when he almost figured it out, he himself at that same age was nowhere near it. At that age, he almost died of dysentery. 
Five looked down at his own journal filled with scribbled notes about stains on floors, broken vending machines and burnt-out light bulbs. 
Spreading his fingers, palms warming in the sun, just the thought of blinking filled him with that familiar buzz of energy he used to live for. But no matter how many times he tried to blink himself even a short distance across the room, he’d still find that it didn’t work that way anymore, and then he’d be flung out of his purple-colored portal into the subway tunnel where you’d found him.
Five pulled his hands back in his lap and slipped the strap back around the leather journal, closing it as he tucked it away.
He couldn’t get back on that train. 
“The only thing I can promise you if we get on there, is that we will be lost,” he’d told you when trying to explain it. He could do that to himself again, but he couldn’t do that to you.
He felt horrible about it, but you never pushed him on it. You never blamed him. You always said it was okay.
He didn’t get it.
Then, after coming back to the house a week ago from another failed jump, something happened. Hearing him kicking stones along the road as he cursed like a maniac, you dropped your garden trowel, ran over, and hugged him.
Smiling up at him, you said, “Five, you need to stop this. You are breaking my heart all over again by looking so pouty all the time.”
Five knew you cared about him. He knew you cared about the other him, but past your caring about either of them in a way that was more than survival based and simply supportive and platonic in nature, that he couldn't figure out. 
You’d told him so many things about the years you were with the other him, but when it came to the details, he could tell you were holding back.
Not sure what to do about it, but knowing exactly how he felt about you, that afternoon in the yard, not more than a few feet away from his own grave, Five had hesitantly let his hand move up your back, hugging you back. He’d never done that before.
He figured, even if you didn’t feel the same way, it wasn’t like you weren’t already intimately familiar.
You’d held him before…
You’d seen him at his worst, fully exposed, laying there in a bloody mess of tears.
He’d told himself that desperately clinging to the person that meant everything to him, even if he’d fallen hopelessly in love with them was normal. Right?
Fuck, he knew it wasn’t… and neither was having to roll himself out of bed almost every night, taking off like a creeper in the night under the pretense that he needed to take a piss, when really he needed to take care of other personal business involving him grasping his dick.
Worried about him, you’d come outside to check on him more than once, and you’d come very close to busting him beating his meat, but Five wasn’t about to stop sleeping by you if you were willing to keep letting him, even if that meant he was constantly waking up hard with his hands on parts of your body that they shouldn’t be touching.
Trying not to think about that, and if you noticed him accidentally doing that or not, instead, as the sunny sky shown down on you holding him like he was a big man baby, Five tried to focus on the feel of your head resting on his chest and how you were soothingly playing with the hair dangling at the nape of his neck. 
Of course that wasn’t really helping, and because of that, he totally missed that you were up to something more than indulging him like you usually did.
Seemingly totally unaware of what you were doing to him, other than that you were turning him into a worthless puddle of goo, sneakily reaching up, you aggressively started ruffling his hair into a chocolatey nest of fuzzy tangles and unruly waves.
Shocked by the unprovoked attack, as you pivoted away from him, looking about as tickled as you could be over how easy it was to get him, Five’s mouth opened, but nothing came out, and that got you really laughing.  
“Oh my God, Five, I love you!” you breathlessly teased.
“Whhh-ahh…?” 
Taken by either his inarticulate reply, or at how ridiculous he looked, Five wasn’t sure, you came back to him, looking up at him sympathetically. “Five, beating yourself up over this isn’t going to change anything.” You gently brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. “Maybe let it go for a while and just try to live a little. You deserve that.”
With that, you leaned in, your lips feather soft as they pressed against his cheek, then you walked away, leaving him dying to kiss you back.
V-Voracious, a wanting, devouring, feeling emotions to an intense degree
After that day, and the many others that came after your spicy Spice Girls kitchen bean snapping show of cuteness, Five did let himself live a little more, and you teased him even more, oftentimes tickling him into submission, and to him, it seemed like you might be doing it for nothing other than the joy of watching him squirm. But maybe not.
As you smiled at him from the other room, Five felt what had become his normal feeling of butterflies in his stomach and that pitiful aching in his chest. Doing the daily domestic things, like watching you change the bedding as he busied himself in the greenhouse, he could almost forget about all the bad things that had happened.
His family were out there, yet not. They were frozen in time as far as the space time continuum and his fucked subway time travel loop were concerned. It had been almost eight years since he’d left them, only hours from facing their demise, but to them, if he could get back, they wouldn't even know that he wasn't there to begin with.
In many ways, they were gone, not him, and it had been that way for so long.
If Five could have gotten back, it would start all over. He’d have hours to figure all this out, but he had nothing figured out in the way of helping them. That should have tormented him incessantly like it had before, but now, feeling like he had no other choice but to accept this fate, the last thing on his mind when he looked at you was the Cleanse, or other timelines that were about to be destroyed.
Even more crazy, he didn’t hate himself the way he used to and that was because you didn’t hate him for any of it.
Also, crazy, if he didn’t think you might knee him in the nards, he had half a mind to come over there and toss you on that mattress and show you that you weren’t the only one who knew how to play dirty.
He may not have been able to do anything to help his family or the rest of the world, but fuck did he want to show you he still had some fight left in him by putting those old bed springs to the test, rocking his hips into you to the beat pumping out of the tiny speakers sitting on the table behind him.
Watching you bend over to pick up your growing pile of linens, Five’s smile grew. When you disappeared from view, he called out your name. “Hey, why don’t we leave this work for later? Come out here and join me. I’ll let you beat me at a game of chess, and you can even use the unicorn charm as your queen this time.”
Coming around the corner, you dropped the laundry on the floor and shook your head at him. “I’m the one that lets you win, and we both know you are the magical unicorn around here,” you said, pelting him in the chest with a large berry you just picked from one of the bushier plants near the door.
“Sure,” he mockingly drawled, as he began to water the plants again. “You know I love magically fooling around with this cute little watering can all day because I aim to please the lady of the house.” 
Five grinned. 
“You know…with me being pretty much worthless otherwise," he added, not even looking as he pegged you in the boob with a berry.
The song playing ended and another 80’s song about rains in Africa started. Using the music to cover your footsteps, from the corner of his eye, Five still saw you coming. Just as you were about to come up behind him to rumble up his hair until he looked like an asshole, he turned, tipping the watering can over your head.
The dribbles he let escape ran down the length of your hair, a few of them raining down on your perfectly stunned face.
“Oops,” he said, grinning even wider. 
“Was that necessarily?” you asked, trying to scowl at him, but clearly having trouble doing it.
“Yes,” he smugly replied as he casually set the watering can down.
“Why?” you challenged, your eyes following his every move.
“Because,” He reached out, slowly running a finger across your wet cheek as he leaned in, whispering in your ear. “Maybe I just wanted to see if I could get you wet.”
You no longer looked like you were about to burst out laughing.
Five knew he was playing with fire, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.
He glanced up at the boarded-up window above, then his eyes met yours again as he quietly said, “I’ll never stop being sorry that I am not him, but-”
“Five-” you started to argue, no doubt planning to tell him it wasn’t his fault that he died and that now he couldn’t get you out of there.
“Shhhh,” he uninterrupted, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. “I’m not done.” His smirk softened. “I know he loved you, and that’s because I love you. The question is, do you love me too? Like this?” he clarified, lowering his chin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
“Five,” your voice cracked with emotion. 
Your lips pressed against his. 
The softest sound crawled out of his throat, moving up through his nose as Five kissed you back, innocent, and beautiful in his not knowing exactly how to do it but doing it anyway. His hand moved behind your head as he parted his lips, letting his mouth move against yours, his tongue just starting to play along your teeth, pushing for more.
From there, with your hands reactively moving up into his hair, pulling him to you even more, his kiss grew deeper and more desperate.
Coming up for air several minutes later, you breathlessly whimpered, “I love you so much, Five. I always will. I just didn’t know if you wanted this with me. You kept saying things that made me think maybe, but then you-”
Hearing that, he frantically started pressing kisses down your neck, then down to your shoulder. “Fuck yeah, I wanted this,” he said as he took your breath away. His trembling hands played at the hem of your shirt before he suddenly stopped and broke away, peering at you.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his hands tentatively sliding up over the cotton covering your back as his excited smile exposed more of his charmingly boyish dimple.
Your reply came with you suddenly lifting the material in his way all the way up over your head. 
Speechless, Five’s intense gaze fell over your naked upper body.
“Holy shit, I was not expecting that,” he breathed. Recapturing your lips a few seconds later, he kissed you two more times, then, still trying to kiss you, he mumbled, "I have imagined doing this for so long, just ask the flowers by the front door that have been watching me jerking off every night. They know just how badly I wanted to see these perky tits.”
You started to giggle over that new piece of information, but that quickly turned into you moaning into Five’s mouth from the feeling of him sliding his fingers over your nipples. Encouraged by that, he continued with his ministrations, slowly and softly caressing you until you moaned even more.
When he released your lips, you let out a small whine at the loss, but you were quickly placated as Five moved his kisses along your jawline, stopping for just a moment to nibble on your ear.
“Gah- ahhh,” you gasped, it felt so good, and to that, Five bit down on your lobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he pinched your nipples at the same time.
You squeaked, your legs clenching together even tighter.
Five let out a breathy laugh as his lips moved over your ear, seductively whispering, "Was that good?"
“You really are still the same cocky little shit you always were, aren’t you?” you shot back.
Nodding his head yes, Five leveled his lopsided grin at you. “Probably worse,” he admitted
“Take your shirt off, “ you demanded, hardly able to believe how silly and hot he was being.
Happily obeying, Five tore off his emerald green sweater that matched his eyes, tossing it over with your shirt on the floor.
“Better?” he questioned.
“Much,” you replied as your fingers began to graze his skin, exploring the hard expanse of his toned chest, down his stomach, delighting in the lean ‘V’ of muscle leading towards his hips.
As your fingers played along the dark, almost jet black trail of hair leading into his pants, dipping below his waistband, then coming back up so you could rub your hand over his crotch, Five shuddered under your touch, so you increased the pressure. 
“So sensitive,” you teased.
Ignoring that taunt, his left hand quickly found your breast again and his other clamped onto your ass, giving it a hard smack before he suddenly yanked your skirt up.
“You have really been enjoying fucking with me,” he laughed, then said, “and what the fuck is this song talking about!”
With his hand under your skirt, his fingers moved slowly, massaging his burning handprint, and he didn’t stop punishing you there. Five’s fingers stopped just shy of the heat between your legs. There, he rubbed the elastic panty line lying along your groin as he smiled like a fucking jerk.
“This song is talking about a man and his love for a girl, but he’s torn between her and the continent he loves, and please, Five! Please don’t stop!” you begged.
“There we go!” he laughed. “Just what I needed to hear. Keep it coming, honey.”
With that, memories of another Five being ridiculously obsessed with you getting you to cry out his name, blended with this one and his equally interesting quirks and many miss understandings about things that to you seemed obvious. 
Before you could come up with an appropriate comeback, your brain gave out on you because Five’s fingers slid under the thin panty barrier he’d been toying with, moving between your folds, determinedly pressing into your clit.
“Fuck, you are wet. I guess watering you worked,” Five mockingly groaned as he gently kissed the side of your neck, letting the smallest scrap of his light facial hair tickle you. 
Giggling and squirming even more, he gave your neck a little nip. 
“Hold still, damn it, I am trying to finger fuck you to this stupid song,” he laughed.
Hand still jammed in your underwear, Five drew you back with him, the backs of his legs bumping one of the chairs next to the small garden table.
Taking your hand off the hard bulge in his pants, you moved it with your other, shoving him down in the chair with enough momentum to make the legs cry out in complaint as they slid across the concrete. Not stopping, you crawled over him, wrapping your legs around his waist.
“I missed you acting all adorable like this,” you said as cheekily as possible, while laughing at his lustful expression of bewilderment.
Not about to be out done, guiding you up against him even tighter, Five wrapped your lips in a warm kiss that quickly escalated into a heady, deep kiss. It didn’t take long just doing that, and you were both breathing much harder than normal again.
Seductively pulling at your lower lip with his upper teeth, Five looked up at you with his mossy eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. 
“From that first day I was with you on the train, you were all I wanted. I didn’t even know what I’d missed until then. I thought I did, but not really,” he said. “I don’t know why or how this is happening to us over and over, but I know one thing for sure and that’s I am never letting you go again.” 
That was almost exactly what Five said to you the night he died. 
Jolting you from the moment, a near paralyzing fear hit you like another slap in the ass, but then, just like so many times when Five touched you, the next time he brought his lips to yours, your entire body tingled with a whole different kind of all-encompassing feeling.
The air felt alive. 
As you eased your body back into his hand that was tracing lines up and down your spine, Five’s lips closed around one of your taut nipples and his hand lowered between your legs, moving again.
“Yesssss,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his, driving your bottom down against his erection.
Pinned under your weight, Five whimpered and his cock throbbed with so much need he felt like he might come in his pants. Not wanting that, his fingers moved faster, slipping up and down in the cramped space of your panties, and that got you to let up on him, which was both a good and bad thing.
You arched your back as he flicked one of your tits with his tongue. Scraping his teeth along your peeked flesh, he sucked it back inside the heat of his mouth and you ground down on him harder than before. 
Unable to take it, Five’s mouth popped off. “Fuck. Keep. Doing. That!” he groaned as he started with your neck and earlobes again, trailing sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.
Flipping your skirt completely out of the way with a whip of his wrists, Five slid your panties to the side with a quick tug, then the tip of his index finger gently started pushing into your hole.
“Mmmm fff, Five,” you whined, as he moved deeper inside you.
“So…fah-king tight,” he breathed, equally taken by the feel of your body fighting him. He looked up at you with adoring eyes, his worry coming out in his soft words. “You okay?”
“Yes,” you said, your body opening for him more and more each second a part of him was becoming a part of you.
Once he was past knuckle deep, you started to work your body over the hard length of his trapped cock again, totally destroying his pants as his finger started to fuck into you, in and out, hooking and pulling, doing anything and everything he could to get you moving faster.
“Oh, ffff,” you cried as Five, with no warning, added a second finger and then started to dip in and out at the same punishing rate as his thumb circling around your clit.
You pushed yourself against his hand, biting your lip as your body quickly coiled and tightened around him. “Fff-vvvv!” you cried. 
When your orgasm hit a moment or two later, your wet gasps filling the greenhouse, he couldn’t believe it.
Your forehead fell against his. You slowly unclenched your fingers, your fingernails leaving half-moon marks all over his shoulders.
“Did I do it?” Five excitedly asked.
Still hardly able to open your eyes, you nodded, panting, “Fuck yes you did. Fuck, Five…”
With his cock about to rip through his pants, Five pulled his fingers from your quivering cunt, bringing them to his mouth. Smiling as he tasted you, slowly licking a few more times for effect, he said, “I can confidently say that I have never done anything as amazing as that, and you taste so delicious I might never eat anything else ever again.”
Laughing at the absurdity of that considering you knew just how much Five liked to eat actual food, and he could in fact do the unimaginable by traveling through time, even if he couldn't do it the way he wanted to anymore, on doe like legs, you climbed off of him, letting your panties slip to the floor.
“Your turn,” you said, straddling your magical unicorn, your hands already starting to unzip his pants to the sight of his approving gaze of god-like sexiness staring back at you.
Carefully pulling him from the confines of his pants, you’d only given Five’s cock a few gentle tugs and his smug expression was gone. 
“Thank you for this, fuck, thank you,” he quietly repeated, his eyes about rolling back in his head as you lazily pumped him, making him leak even more glistening fluid from the tip of his cock.
Lost in what you were doing to him, Five fingers dug into the seat on the wooden chair.
“That feels so fucking good,” he groaned as you twirled your finger over him, spreading his precum to make your hand move faster as it dropped down over the long veins feeding his impressive length.
When you moved forward, guiding the thick head of his cock through the swollen valley between your legs, Five couldn’t take it anymore. Frantically pushing his heels into the floor, he reactively tried to thrust upwards, but it did him little good because he wasn’t inside of you like his mind was telling him he was.
“Ah-ah-ah,” you warned. “Slow down, old man. I’ll get you there, I promise. I want your first time to be special,” you lovingly cooed.
“This is pretty fucking special. I have waited over 70 years for this,” he growled, trying to hump up into you again but clearly only doing it that time to watch your tits bounce.
Shaking your head at the craziness of it all because Five looked nothing like his real age despite him being that old, with one hand on the back of his neck, your feet fell flat on the floor, allowing you the leverage you needed to ride him. With his drizzling tip pushing all the way up to the height of your belly button, you lined him up, then started frotting, pressing the hot length of his cock against your swollen clit in a sinful game of slip and slide.
“That’s right, baby. Let me fuck you,” you praised, already feeling that lustfully addicting pleasure rising in you again. Yanking his hair to further the fun, Five moaned, but he didn’t fight it, and that only turned you on even more, because you knew how badly he wanted to.
Five Looked like a broken angel fallen from heaven. His beautiful eyes were cutely drowsy as he watched you fucking him, the sweet feel of your sex, your body rocking in his lap, all of it felt like nothing he had ever felt before.
The fall sun was shining down.
The heat building.
The strangest choice for a fuck song was playing on the CD player, the band Todo singing their topical ballad as your bodies worked together to the inspiring rhythm of the drums.
♫  I bless the rains down in Affff-ri-cAAA! 
Five shut his eyes.
The pure love and acceptance he was feeling made the shadow of doubt hanging over him from his own death and from his horrible past feel like it couldn’t touch him.
“Five, look at me,” you ordered.
He did.
One look at you as you rode, unable to fight it, he let out a guttural groan of unrestrained pleasure. Unclasping his fingers from the chair, he ran his hands down, under your ass, lifting and pulling with you, making you move your hips and hand pinning his cock down even faster as you fucked him against you.
He was trapped and so were you, but Five felt anything but trapped as your thighs quivered and the tension built more and more with each pass of his cock thrusting up through your pussy lips.
“Kiss me. Please. I need you to kiss me,” you begged, your words breathless as you worked hard to give him the ride of his life while he sat there like the king of the world, watching you buck and pant.
The second Five’s lips touched yours, you locked your fingers on him tighter, pulling him as close as possible. 
Your nails scratched along his scalp making him fuck up into you harder. 
The chair groaned in protest.
You brokenly whimpered into his kiss, and again, Five felt that strangely familiar burst of energy in the air. 
Your head flung back. You’d reached the edge and tumbled over it again; this time he knew it and he’d never felt closer to you.
He cursed a breathy gasp, his lips parted against your chest as he pushed his pelvis up and down at the same faltering pace as yours. Pulses of his release, a creamy white heat of pent-up pain and love started to spread against the silky expanse of your body as Five moved his cheek next to yours. 
Mouth against your moistened skin, he groaned and hissed. “Ahhhffuuuuucccccckkkkk-ffffff-”
A sticky mess between you as his balls twitched under him, still out of breath, Five peered up at, grinning like a fool.
Just when he thought he couldn’t possibly deserve more, you brought your hands to his face, running your fingers over his flushed cheeks as you tilted his chin up. “I love you, Five. It will always be you.”
You placed the softest kiss along his jaw, then down his sweaty neck. Five’s entire body trembled, as much from the gentle sensation of you showing how much you loved him with the touch of your lips, as in what it meant to him hearing you say that.
You said it again. “I love you, Five.”
Tiny shivers danced up his spine as a low moan resonated deep in his throat. Your mouth continued to move over him. 
“I love you too.” He exhaled your name slowly as you moved your way back up to his lips, your fingers soothingly playing with his hair. 
Right then, no matter how many times you let him have this with you, Five knew he’d never get enough of it. 
As he told you, you were all he wanted.
Now, nothing else mattered. 
W-Why
Autumn days of sunlit leaves floating down from above passed by, and with them, Five’s mind and heart were at peace for the first time in his life. 
Nights with you in bed, hot breaths against each other’s skin as you explored new ways to love each other were everything to him. 
Laying on a blanket, under the stars as the white plumes of your breath made clouds of heat above you, Five was in heaven even if he was in a world of crumbling foundations.
He even had the moon this time.
It was perfect.
You had the greenhouse and a roof over your heads, but you still needed to scout for other food options. Just like the last time he was in the apocalypse, Five spent hours on end each day, searching for anything he could use to help get through the harder times. But now, as he wandered down the stairway into the old subway station he hadn’t been to in months, the pressure of getting back felt almost non-existent. 
Maybe he could trap something alive down there, he’d thought. Rats were awful but you weren’t picky, and neither was he, and rabbits had been hard to come by lately with the colder turn in the weather.
Just thinking about bringing a rodent in the house and acting like he slayed a dragon for you made him smile. 
You loved when he acted stupid, and he loved doing it for you.
Feet quietly moving across the debris filled landing, just then, when it felt like nothing was more important than finding new ways to make you smile, of course that was when fate decided to prove he was wrong.
Noticing a strange mark on the floor at the edge of the subway platform, one he’d never noticed before because the light down there was so bad, Five pointed his flashlight down. 
There was something scratched into the tile, and it was done so poorly he could hardly see it, but it was there, and it was no accident.
Bending down, he slowly traced the intricate circles and paralleling lines done in an interlocking pattern that suggested a mathematical projection of infinite sums, or better put, infinite outcomes. 
His heart sank as his finger cleared the grim from the interdimensional map, or that was what he’d suspected it was the first time he’d seen it tattooed on the chest of the ancient version of him that was dying in the paradox proof chamber back in the Sparrow’s timeline.
Looking around, he saw nothing else. Jumping down to the tracks, Five ducked his head below the small lip where the electrical lines were hung. There was a box that some of the larger lines fed into, and it was directly underneath where the sigil was placed. 
Reaching his hand up, blinding feeling around in the cobwebs and dead bugs, he felt something. 
“No,” he breathed, looking down at the leather-bound journal, his eyes rapidly moving over the pages. 
All of them were filled in, unlike the one he had back at the house. And even more shocking, this one showed the way to get back.
“Five?” you called out, coming down the stairs. 
“Yeah, down here,” he replied, quickly shoving the book inside his shoulder bag.
~~~
Stretching his toes under the sheets as his body came down from the feel of having his dick pushing down your throat, Five dreamily looked down at you nestled between his legs
“I love your hair, honey, but I like it best when it’s like that,” he teased as you looked back at him, stretching your jaw, your hair a total ball of fuzz ball from you romping around under the blankets.
You smiled. “Fuck you, Five.” 
“Fuck me, you say… Sure.  I am game to do that again, only it has to be roles reversed until I can get it up again.”
You rolled out of bed, escaping before he could pounce on you and throw his face between your legs. 
“Aww, come on. It won’t take long,” he whined, watching you trot away.
“I know,” you called back, blanket dragging as you tiptoed the cold floor out to the kitchen to get a glass of water from the cooled boiling pot on the wood stove. 
Coming back, you passed by the fireplace, tossing a few logs Five had brought in the night before. Moving on, you stopped at the bookshelf, eyeing up the selection that had grown substantially since Five had gotten there. 
Still lazily lying in bed, he smiled, knowing you were going to pick something and ask him to read it to you while you snuggled on him in bed until mid-day. He loved the bitter temperatures that had settled in because it meant time outside was limited and there was more time for this.
While crossing his arms over his head, looking around the little home that he shared with you, Five started to smile again. The shelves in the kitchen were covered with canning jars filled with the evidence of how hard you had both worked to prepare for the winter. While he was thinking about how the massive amount of work involved in living this way did nothing to diminish how happy he was, something over by you hit the floor with a thump.
Five hadn’t noticed you stepping up on a chair to reach the highest shelf, but you had. Now you were getting down, looking at what had fallen.
His heart was suddenly beating so hard it felt like it might rip out of his chest. Too late, he threw himself out of bed, snatching his pajama pants off the floor as he rushed over, one leg in, and one out of the cold flannel.
“What is this?” you questioned, rapidly turning the pages in your hands. “Five?” you said again, waving the notes you’d just found wedged behind the other books.
“It’s my journal,” Five said, still pulling up his pants as the worried line between his brows grew deeper.
“I know it is, but it’s not that one,” you said, pointing to the other on the table beside the bed. “This one is…It looks like you figured it out…. The key to the subway map is all filled in.” 
You quickly turned to the pages that Five already knew were there, the colorful triangles and circles and squares and numbers that had made no sense were all noted with his handwriting, explaining what they meant and how to navigate them. Trying to make help sense of it, you’d looked at it so many times, but like him, you’d gotten nowhere.
Five reached for the book, and as if you’d lost all your strength, the journal fell into his hands. Your voice tremored. “Where did this come from?”
“I found it under the edge of the subway platform, next to the tracks.”
“When?”
“Months ago,” Five flatly replied, his voice coming out steady, even if he wasn’t.
Your eyes glossed over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
As he looked into your hurt filled eyes, he felt like he was dying as he said, “You know why.”
“Five,” we can’t stay here pretending there isn’t something we can do,” you said, saying exactly what he knew you’d say.
“What can I do!” Five all but screamed, making you jump back, and that only made him look even more upset.
Ashamed that he’d just done that, his entire body shaking, Five’s hands came up, covering his face, the journal falling to the floor as he started to ramble, “I can’t lose you! I can't help them! I-” 
He breathed your name, much quieter before starting again. 
“If we go, there’s no telling what we’ll find back there. My family and I didn’t know what to do before I left, and I don’t know what to do now. Having you with me is the last thing I want if I go back to that place. Don’t you get it!” he cried, losing it again. “That timeline is just another like this one that will be destroyed, only this time, nobody is going to survive!”
“So this is it?” you quietly asked.
Five looked up and only then did he see the tears rolling down your cheeks. 
“Isn’t this enough?” he asked, his voice cracking.
You came closer. “Five, you will always be enough for me, but-”
When you didn’t finish the ‘but’ and instead chose to wrap your arms around him, Five sucked in a panicked breath, his entire body shuttering. 
Feeling worse, but slowly getting a handle on himself and what this meant, eventually Five forced himself away from the safety of your embrace. His voice lacked any signs of weakness from his melt down when he looked at you and said, “We are going back.”
X- X-factor, as in an exceptional quality or talent that sets someone or something apart. Not so much what the gang is displaying here.
Escorting you along the snow-covered sidewalk leading up to Diego and Lila’s house, trying to be optimistic, Five said, “Maybe they figured it out after all. Everything looks normal.”
Opening the door, Diego’s eyes widened as they moved from you to his brother. “What do you know? Five finally decided to join us and he’s not alone!” he called out just as Klaus came to join him in the entryway, shoving a handful of trail mix in his mouth.
“And who’s this,” he questioned, wiggling an eyebrow at you.
Five was still trying to introduce you when Lila came over interrupting. “Awwww,” she said, scowling at Five. “It looks like hell really did freeze over because you brought a real live, non-plastic date. You’ve clearly been busy, though not surprisingly busy doing nothing to help us figure this stuff out with Ben.”
“We don’t know where Viktor is, or Benny and his Jenny,” Klaus chimed in, “but that doesn’t mean this Cleanse stuff is happening. Dad lies all the time.” Looking puzzled, he looked down at the floor. “Actually, I don’t know what’s going on. Allison and Claire Bear just dug me up from a pet cemetery. I’m still feeling a little shaky about all that and for other reasons too, so I haven’t really been much help either.” 
He glanced at Claire, and she smiled. “It’s okay Uncle Klaus. One step at a time We’ve got your back.”
Coming your way, dressed in a track suit that way too small for him, Luther said, “Hi, I am Luther. Not sure if Five told you about me.”
“Five, told me all about you. It’s so nice to finally meet all of you,” you said, smiling at Luther, then Five, who was already looking like his head might explode.
Luther turned his goofy grin at Five, giving him a not at all discrete thumbs up as he whispered, but not quite enough that everyone else didn’t hear it. “Nice job!” Suddenly looking confused, he added, “Are you together, like together-together? Not that it matters, it’s just Lila is right. You don’t date, and we’ve never seen you with anyone other than Dolor-”
“Woopsie,” Allison said, walking past, smacking Luther on the back of the head.
Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Five angrily spat, “She already knows about me and Dolores! And not that any of you give a shit about my life, but yes, we are together! I am madly in love with her and for some reason, she loves me back!”
“Ohhhh. I love this… When did all this happen?” Klaus excitedly asked, totally engrossed in the drama unfolding as he sat down on the couch with his bowl of trail mix on his lap.
“Recently.” Five heatedly replied. “And that wasn’t all I was doing, Lila!”
Five raised his voice as he glared at his sister-in-law but that only made her challenging smile even brighter.
“I have been gone for almost eight years,” Five raged at her. “I tried to use my powers to go back in time to save Ben but instead got myself trapped in the apocalypse again where I topped off that series of epic mistakes by getting shot by another me. I would have died if not for her being trapped in one of the apocalypses I ended up in, and believe it or not, that one was on me too! So go ahead, start lying into me about how this is all my fault! Sloane! Your discontent in marriages and your fucked up lives! The Cleanse! Everything! Let me have it. I have heard it all before!”
“I told you that you needed my help,” Lila irritatedly huffed, as she pulled a sticky chunk of red licorice off the front of her shirt.
As Five moved his bitter gaze to Luther, the big guy frowned. “I never meant to blame Sloane on you,” he said very sheepishly. He looked at the others for help but wasn’t getting any. “I am sorry… I was so… And I didn’t mean to-”
“Wait. Hold up…” Claire interjected from the sidelines where she’d been quietly watching the showdown. “You tried to save us, all by yourself?” She looked from her angry Uncle to her mom, clearly confused. 
Allison smiled at her daughter. “Believe it or not, you Uncle Five is the most selfless jerk you’ll ever meet, and he’s right. We have been pretty awful about things since he’s been back, and that’s because like him, we are jerks whose lives are a mess, but that is not his fault.” Turning to Five, she said, “We love you, Five, and I couldn’t be happier that you finally found someone, even if it was in a place you never should have been to begin with. Funny how that shit works. I can tell you all about it and Ray would too if he were still around, but…he’s NOT.” 
She raised her drink, pounding all of it as she flopped down on the couch next to Luther.
“I am sorry, buddy. I didn’t even know you were gone. We love you; you know that right?” Klaus said, coming in for a hug. 
Just then, totally taken off guard because he was looking at you grinning at him with that, I told you so look he knew was because you’d told him time and time again that his family love him, Five was ambushed by his ghost whispering brother’s smothering affections, double cheek kisses and all.
“I am so glad your apocalyptic badass woman saved you, little guy,” Klaus gushed as you started to giggle over what Klaus had just called you, and at Five trying to get away from Klaus’s impressively strong clutches.
Ducking out of his grip, just then, Grace came running in. “Uncle Five! You have to see what Mr. Pennycrumb can do! He can blink just like you.”
“Hey, kid,” Five breathed, coming down to her level to watch as she excitedly flew her electronic dog around extra fast, hiding him behind the Christmas tree before popping him back out again.
As soon as his daughter was done showing off, looking serious, Diego pulled Five to the side. Just as fast, you were surrounded by the rest of his siblings, having gotten pulled down between Luther and Allsion on the couch, with Klaus on the floor at your feet, all of them firing questions at you about your time with their brother.
Scrunching his lips in a way that made his dad mustache look extra dorky, Diego said, “That sounded bad, minus the badass chick saving you part. You okay?”
“Perfect,” Five shot back, trying to smooth the rumbles out of his suit. Giving up, he muttered a few curses, then hearing something about if you were married or not, he looked over at you, tensely flattening his lips as the muscles in his jaw tensed. 
He was about to angrily spout off on all of them again, but looking flushed by amused, you shook your head, warning him not to do it. 
About to lose his mind and not sure what to say about the marriage thing anyway, Five’s mouth snapped shut.
“Oh, my God!” Lila cackled. “I think I love her already,” she laughed, nudging Five in the shoulder before coming over to you, asking, “Do you have superpowers too, because the way you shut down that little ankle biter without saying a word was bloody brilliant. You have to teach me that trick!”
“Ahhh. No powers here,” you laughed. “I think Five and I just have a good understanding of each other.” You looked at Five, widening your eyes comically at him because you could totally see why he maintained that his family were a hard pill to swallow.
“So... I did the CIA thing,” Diego said, moving right along.
“And how did that go?” Five breathed, overwhelmed, but trying to dial it back for the kid’s sake and yours.
“It didn’t. Turns out, it’s not for me. Lila and I had a talk, and we are doing better. My life with them means everything, I just needed a reminder. Thanks for giving it to me,” he said, looking down at his oldest, who was sitting on the floor in front of the TV. Slapping Five on the back a second later, he asked, “So, are you still the oldest virgin alive, or did you guys S-K-R-E-W?” 
“That is not how you spell screw, dad,” Grace corrected as Diego pulled a condom package out of his wallet, then pulled open Five’s back pant pocket, stuffing it in.
“Just in case you need it, man,” he clarified as if Five didn’t get it. “Kids are great, but not sure you're ready for all that complicated stuff yet with you being a scrawny teenager still.”
“I am not a teenager!” Five raged, “I’m 26 for the 2nd fucking time, so that makes me 71! I shouldn’t be surprised by any of this, or you not getting that, but I am! And that means for a room full of people given powers not typically seen in any other humans, all any of us can claim is that we’ve excelled at being extraordinarily stupid! There is nothing exceptional about any of us! The world could still be ending in a few hours and Luther is over there shoving whole popcorn balls in his mouth!”
“Thaaairr-rrealleeegoo,” he mumbly defended
Unfazed by her dad being stupid or her favorite Uncle flipping out on everyone, Grace pointed at the TV screen, asking, “Is that Uncle Viktor hanging out with all those weirdos surrounding the mall?”
~~~
Hours later, blinking out of the way of the gigantic blob monster Ben-Jen thing, portal violently crackling, Five reappeared in the subway station, his back slamming back down on the cement as you landed on top of him, knocking the air out of him.
Heart racing as he choked on the air fighting to get back inside his lungs, with his useless gun still in his free hand, Five rolled over, pulling you up.
“I’m sorry,” you needlessly apologized, hardly able to walk as you clung to him. 
Your head was spinning from the jump, and from getting thrown out over the second-floor mezzanine by Luther just before an arm like appendage of the Ben-Jen Cleanse blob latched on to Five, who had just wrapped his arm around you to blink you out of there.
Not stopping, Five helped you inside the waiting train, the doors closing as he sat you down, and then he joined you, staring at the ground as he gently ran his hand up and down your back.
“I am not abandoning them,” he said, almost a whole minute later, finally looking up. 
“I know.” Feeling less green, you moved closer, lowering your head to his shoulder. 
“I can’t save them in any other way but by leaving. I need to buy us some time,” he explained even though he didn’t need to, you were there. You saw it all.
Viktor tried to pull the marigold from Ben, but it was too late. They all had fought back, but they were losing badly. Like Five had told you in the first days he was with you, they were never meant to win.
His head dropped back against the side of the train as it swayed, aimlessly moving through the tunnels.
Five couldn’t even begin to pay attention to the stops as they came and went, another gloomy station of nothingness, and then another, and then another. 
With no clue what to do, he sat in silence with your hand in his.
At some point, your mental exhaustion got the best of you. Slumping against him, you drifted off to the feel of his shallow breaths against your temple.
Y-You
“Five, what is this place?” you asked as your sleep filled eyes followed his towards the glowing sign that said, “Max’s Delicatessen.”
“I have no idea,” he breathed, cautiously stepping out of the train. 
At the unexpected sound of someone saying your name, Five pivoted, protectively throwing you behind him.
The dark-haired young man you hadn’t noticed was sitting on one of the benches near the tracks laughed, then he said, “Don’t worry. I mean neither of you harm, and to answer your question since he can’t. This is the place all of us end up at some point when our time is up. That’s if we make it this far. Most don’t.” 
Getting up, the suit-wearing stranger who was a mirror image of Five, folded his newspaper under his arm and strode your way, extending his hand. 
“Hello again.” He gave you a charming grin, his eyes mischievously sparkling. “It’s been a long time, but I see that your pretty smile hasn’t changed.”
You hadn’t been smiling, but now you were, and that only made the Five at your side look even more hostile.
Unbothered by that, the other Five turned on the heel of his shiny dress shoe, casually waving you along as he said, “Come inside. We need to have a chat.”
A second later the steel bell hanging above the door rang and at least a dozen more Fives inside the deli looked your way, all of them eyeing you with open interest.
The Five you were following sat down in one of the open booths in the middle, gesturing for you to join him. Still shocked into a silence that was making you all the more nervous, Five moved into the opposite seat, pulling you in next to him on the inside of the booth.
The Five that had greeted you flagged over a waiter version of himself as he rushed by, and he swiftly leaned in, filling the cups in front of everyone.
No sooner was it poured, than next to you, Five picked up his white porcelain cup, tipping the entire contents back in one long slug. 
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had coffee this marvelously shitty, I take it?” The Five across from you chuckled as the still hovering waiter came back around. As he refilled your Five’s cup, his fingers brushed past yours on the handle of your mug.
“Need some sugar or some cream in that, sweetheart?” he asked, as the dimple in his cheek deepened.
Your Five turned his glare at the Waiter Five. “She can get her own cream, so fuck off, and yes…” he hissed at the Greeter, “It’s been a while since I had coffee.” 
Five was looking at the Waiter like he might kill him, so you squeezed his leg from under the table. After that, he took a much more civilized sip of his drink, but the warning in his eyes remained as they darted around the diner, meeting the curious eyes of all the other Fives.
“I am betting the lack of caffeine wasn’t nearly as awful this time around when you had such a lovely companion there with you in the apocalypse. She was with you, I presume…? That’s if your story parallels that of some of these other lost boys in here.”
To that, your exceedingly twitchy Five glanced at a very young looking Five wearing his Umbrella Academy uniform. He was sitting next to the door with Dolores. Staring back at the kid version of him’s baby face, Five’s own features pinched with confusion.
Seeing that they weren’t going to get any juicy details on his relationship with you, the Greeter said, “Okay, cutting to the chase then…?”
“Please,” Five cooly replied.
Obliging, the Greeter said, “Every one of us here tried to fix this mess and couldn’t. Now we are here doing anything we can to help the other Fives who still have skin in the game. Which are the lucky bastards like you. So, how can we help?”
Flipping his hair out of his eyes, Five asked, “Will going back to our first timeline and then jumping back to prevent Ben’s death change any of this?”
“No,” the Greeter Five replied.
“Would stopping the original Reginald from releasing the marigold in the first place be enough to fix this?”
“It would be, but we can’t do that. He didn't release the marigold on Earth. He did it on his home planet and then it got here many years later. We don’t have the ability to jump from one plant to another, and Reginald’s ticket here was one way. Doing that also means we will never be born. So again. No.”
With his foot agitatedly tapping under the table, Five shook his head. “What else is there that we can work with?”
The Greeter laughed. “Us. We are the problem.”
“Explain,” Five shot back.
Tiling his head to the side, the Greeter grinned at you then looked back at your Five and sighed. “The marigold that caused our births was the catalyst, and we were the by-product that never should have been. We set it all in motion by existing. Our births are what caused a ripple effect that split the timelines. They never should have happened, and because of that, we get an endless cycle of nature trying to correct itself.”
Five’s hand tightened around yours. “The apocalypse and the Cleanse.”
The Greeter nodded. “Exactly. Every one of them, and on and on it goes. We are at one million five hundred thousand, eighty-two tries to stop it at this point and we haven’t, but we are still going strong.” 
He laughed at that, his eyes moving to the Five in the corner booth who was tipping back a bottle of whiskey with about half of it running down his chin. 
“Well, most of us are still trying. Drunk Five, not so much,” the Greeter cynically added.
Not happy about that, the Drunk Five, sloshing his bottle all over his table started in. “You are missing shit as usual! There are things bigger in this world than new elements that can spontaneously create superpowered assholes and then later devour them for no good fucking reason other than an arrogant alien asshole named Reginald had zero foresight!” he shouted.
“It was Abigail who created it,” one of the Fives playing cards flatly corrected, while dealing another hand to the Five across from him. 
“Whatever! Still an asshole!” Drunk Five insisted, getting even more worked up. “Real power has nothing to do with what they gave us! It’s in here, only all you self absorbed morons have no idea what it means to feel it!” he declared while trying to point a finger at his heart, but when he almost dropped his bottle, he ended up dumping booze on his crotch instead.
Looking like he was about to cry, the very drunk Five looked over at you. “I- I’m,” 
He said your name, proving the Greeter Five wasn’t the only one who knew your name.
“I tried to save you. I tried to save all of them, but I didn’t see the right way to do it until it was too late,” he sobbed. He set his bottle down, ringing his hand through his hair as he looked down at the table. “I would have done it. I would have sacri-”
A Five wearing an apron stepped out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over his drunk doppelganger’s mouth as he said, “Zip it before you fuck this up royal, nob shine.” 
Looking at you with a gleam in his eye, the kitchen Five bent down, whispering something in his captive’s ear, then having quieted the Drunk Five, that Five came over, placing his elbows on the back of your seat, joining the party, and again you were greeted with a smile and excited green eyes.
Reaching over to playfully twirl a piece of your hair around one of his fingers, the Five from kitchen looked to the Greeter Five then to your Five, saying, “Perhaps while you boys continue this conversation, it would be best if I take the lady in back to show her how I tenderize my meat?”
“Not a fucking chance,” your Five snapped back as you let out a small but very hysterical sounding laugh.
“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” the Greeter agreed.
“She isn’t going anywhere with any of you!” Five fumed, standing up to get in the face of the kitchen Five that was invading the booth.
Someone in the kitchen who sounded like Five laughed, yelling something about soup and sore his meatballs, and just then, the bell above the door chimed.
A much older, white-haired gentleman with a mustache came in, throwing his hat on the coat rack as he took in the scene. “Jesus fucking Christ, why does it always have to be a freak show in here,” he grumbled.
The very young Five at the booth with Dolores tipped his margarita at him in agreement as your Five opened his mouth, starting to flip out again, but right then, the Waiter Five appeared from the kitchen, plate in hand, swinging by your table to drop a thick sandwich stacked with pastrami in front of the Greeter. “Here you go, extra sauerkraut, as you requested.” 
The Waiter looked over at you, his wicked grin grew. 
“Why do you always have to fuck shit up, Briket Five?” the Greeter snapped at the Five still playing with your hair. “Nobody wants to eat this shit covered in fermented slop but you!” 
“Shut up and just eat it,” he replied while giving you a naughty looking wink.
“Brisket Five?” you asked.
The Five in question nodded. “Yes, but you can call me whatever you want, love.” 
He got up and walked towards the kitchen, after your Five swatted his hand away, but getting him off of you made Five look no less pissed by the exchange. “We need to get you out of here,” he said as he started to slip out of the booth, but coming past your table, the old mustached Five nearly plowed down the Waiter, who then rammed into your Five blocking his path.
As he looked at the commotion going on at your table and all the Five’s sizing each other up, the older Five gruffly said, “Not sure what these morons have been telling you, but I am so sick of their shit that I am about ready to shove that mop up someone’s ass. Nobody is going to enjoy that other than Janitor Five, so I’ll give you some straightforward advice that might help us all out of this mess instead. Don’t try to save the world this time.”
The Five with the mop laughed. “True on both accounts! I’m down with an anal mop fucking as long as you go gentle on me, and when it comes to fucked up shit I haven’t tried, not saving our asses is the only thing I haven’t done, so I say yes to that too,” he shouted, then went back to moping the mess under Drunk Five’s table.
Mentally on overload, next to you, in his head, ignoring what the weird mop fucking stuff was all about with the Janitor Five, your Five repeated the words that had been haunting him since the first time he’d heard them coming from another much older permutation of himself who was dying in a paradox proof bunker.
Don’t try to save the world…
As if that wasn’t enough to shake him, still reeling with deja vu, the Drunk Five called over, “We need to destroy the marigold!”
“Please shut him up before he really scares her even more than h already has!” Greeter Five shouted.
With all the other Five’s too busy glaring at each other, the Drunk Five went on even louder, this time declaring his love for you, and because of it, you looked even more rattled by the chaos of all the versions of Five scattered around you, mostly all of them losing their shit or making lovey dovey eyes at you.
Coming out of the kitchen with a frying pan in hand, Brisket Five said, “Holy shit, someone should have thrown him outside hours ago.” A second later, he pulled back to swing, and a second after that, DONG! Drunk Five was lying face down, drooling on his placemat.
“To that, we agree,” the Greeter said, looking at you worriedly.
As if Brisket Five hadn’t just potentially concussed or killed the inebriated version of himself, the Waiter Five shimmied back into the mob around your table, refilling all the coffee cups, acting like all this was all totally normal.
Next to you, Five looked like he was about to blow a gasket. Unable to get out of the booth, he was about to vault the back of your seat and start stabbing out the eyeballs of the other Fives with his sugar spoon.
Coming over, Brisket Five said, “As you’ve noticed some of these lesser evolved douche bags in here aren’t that well-mannered, and Old Five is not much of a socialite, but he’s not wrong, and neither is Drunk Five over there. They are onto something, but our gracious Greeter here, and some of the others like to think there still has to be another way that doesn’t involve our way of thinking.”
“It makes sense that statistically, there is!” the Greeter Five growled, to the dickish brush off wave of the frying pan that Brisket Five just gave him.
After threatening the Greeter, Brisket Five, looking at you in a way that made you feel all sorts of warm, he said, “Did you know that there is a quantum entanglement thing going on between us?”  
“There is nothing going on between you two,” your Five snarled.
“Sure, there is,” he reaffirmed, giving the Greeter a pointed look that made your Five and the Greeter suddenly look much less sure of themselves. 
Coming too, looking even more upset now that he just got his head bashed in, looking at you, Drunk Five started rambling. “We have something that binds people through time in ways that no one will ever understand. It’s why we ran into each other in the first place, and it was why you were there to save me, and I was there to save you! It’s an inevitability… It’s as simple as that! We just need to believe in that this time and maybe-”
“It’s wishful thinking and we need more than that,” the Greeter interrupted.
Looking very annoyed, Brisket Five said, “There are some of us that like to pretend it’s horse shit based on fairy tales and lovesick delusional nonsense, but the concept of a love-based entanglement is very real.” He looked at you again. “No matter how far or how we get pulled apart in the mess of time, we will always remain connected. It’s like that with a love as strong as ours.”
“You don’t know her and you don’t love her! I do!!” your Five snapped
Brisket Five looked at the Greeter, both of them smiling knowingly, no longer looking like they might kill each other.
“Five, what is he talking about?” you asked.
“I don’t know,” he shot back, clearly so upset that he didn’t know what to say anymore.
“Sure, you do,” Brisket Five confidently replied. "Let me ask you this…have you ever felt things you can’t explain?”
Five nodded, yes.
Brisket Five reached across the table, placing his hand over yours as he smugly smiled at your Five while asking, “Have you felt it with her?” 
Heat flooded your face.
Your Five said nothing, but he didn’t need to, the other him’s smile turned into a full-on smirk. “Has she told you that she feels it too?”
Five glanced at you, and the other Five’s all trying their best to charm you with their bullshit smiles that made him want to punch himself.
“Ahhhh-haaa,” Brisket Five laughed. “I suppose she might not have told you she has felt that invisible tether that pulls at her heart when you're there and even when you’re not, but Drunk Five’s stories can’t all be bullshit, and I can attest to it because I feel it right now. Something tells me that she’s the special one here, not us, and it has nothing to do with marigold.”
Pulling his lips to the side, looking upset, Greeter Five said your name, pulling your attention his way again. “Hey, why don’t we let them talk about all this crap alone? I am sick of the fighting, and I bet you are hungry for something that is actually edible.” 
Getting up, he offered you a hand. When you got nothing from your Five other than silence, the warmth of the Greeter’s fingers curled around yours, sliding you out of the booth to join him. 
Directing you towards the display case filled with pies, Greeter Five said, “It really is a lucky day. There’s one more piece of strawberry fluff with your name on it.”
Behind you, Brisket Five leaned into your Five’s ear, talking extra quietly. “Look, you’re the first to ever come in together, and I think that means it’s time to end this the only way we can. Our family doesn’t have to make it to the end to get what you want, just the people we love do. We are linked to them, and them to us by something none of us can explain but it is real. Maybe that matters, and maybe it won’t, but at least they will live, and this will stop,” he said, eyeing you as the other Five’s intentionally dominated your attention so you didn’t hear that part. 
Your Five’s eyes widened as he realized what the other him meant.
“All your numbers and asshole logic aren’t getting you anywhere but here again, buddy. You need to let go,” Brisket Five added, trying to smile again but the sadness in his eyes and the pain he felt about it was impossible to hide.
Getting up, he left your Five alone at the booth.
“Just do as that old dipshit said to do this time,” the Five with Dolores yelled out, loudly slurping his margarita to the bottom of the glass.
“Why don’t you give me Dolores and you got stick your dick the pickle jar again and fuck it,” a particularly grumbly looking Five interjected before going back to scowling at his crossword puzzle.
“Five, what do they mean, don’t try to save the world this time?” you said, breaking away from Greeter Five as you came rushing back.
Just then, Drunk Five started in again, this time getting up from his booth, heading your way, cutting you off. “Don’t worry. We can help. We will come with you this time. Then-” 
He almost fell, his hand swinging out to catch him on the divider between booths.
Dizzily looking at all the others, then you again, he said, “We will keep the Cleanse busy, distracting it, and we will get Ben and Jennifer out of it.” He looked at your Five, a silent understanding happening between him as he lied. “You get everyone back to the academy. Viktor will have time to pull this shit out of you, dump it, and then you get the hell out of there. If you win, we all do.”
Reaching down, instead of vomiting, which he looked like he might do, Drunk Five pulled up two heavy double barrel shotguns that you had no idea were sitting next to the mostly quiet CrossWord Five who was now also suddenly getting up, pulling two guns from his shoulder straps.
“I’m in,” the Waiter Five said, dropping his coffee carafe in favor of the potato peeler he just pulled out of the bin full of dirty dishes sitting on the next table.
Greeter Five walked over to the fire box, smashing open the case, pulling out the ax. “Fine, Let’s fuck that blob up,” he said while giving you an extra cute grin that left you even more speechless over how quickly they’d all came together.
Almost all the Fives were suddenly packing, Brisket Five included, grinning at you from over by the check-in desk as he twirled a large butcher knife around, pointing it at his head, trying to get you to laugh over how crazy they all were.
Drunk Five swooped in, wobblily kneeling at your feet, his puppy dog eyes imploring you to believe him. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Feeling drawn to him, as you shakily wiped a tear from his cheek, he said, “I won’t let you down this time.” Letting your fingers gently run across his temple, Drunk Five’s eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “I still feel it,” he whispered as that spark of something lit up inside you, his eyes opening to meet yours, his focus entirely on you, unwavering as he was in his heart. “We’ve got this, sweetheart, we always did. Just hold on to me, okay? In here. Don’t forget how much I love you and we will always be together.”
He reached up, placing his hand over yours so he could pull it over his heart.
As your Five slowly, almost hypnotically moved in, looking down at the other him with a heartsick look in his eyes, Drunk Five handed the much older, very resolute looking Five who’d also came over his other shotgun. 
“Enough fucking around! Time to end this, boys!” the white-haired patriarch said. 
~~~
“See you on the other side,” Brisket Five said, while giving you both a look that was nothing like his haughty expressions he’d been maintaining for most of the conversation inside the deli. To you, his small smile seemed to be saying something by saying nothing at all, then he ducked into the other train car that the other Five’s had chosen to ride in.
Stepping in the doors you had come out of when you got there, you watched them a car over from yours, all the different versions of the man you loved as they found their places to either sit or stand, none of them saying a word. 
They looked like they meant business, like the violent ax swinging, hell bent on retribution kind of business, and it was a stark contrast to how out of control they’d been acting inside the deli.
“I promise, we can do this,” Five said, his eyes not leaving yours even though he was aware he had an audience in the next train over.
His heart was beating so hard. He felt like he could jump out of his skin but there was no way he was going to tell you that.
He knew all of the Fives felt it. It was in the air all around them, permeating every fiber of their being. It was the accumulation of all of it. The weight of their endless devotion to the people they loved, the pain of enduring so much for so long, and it was the bitter taste of so much loss and the loss that had yet to come.
You let your fingers trail down the gully between Five’s ab muscles until they touched his waist. “Five, I am so scared.”
He wasn’t anymore.
He looked over at the other car, then back at you, shaking his head. “We have about five minutes, give or take. What should we do with it?”
You said nothing, and tears started to run down your cheeks.
Five kissed you.
His eyes met yours right as you grabbed at his leather belt, pulling his hips against you.
“I need you,” he said, his voice breaking.
The smallest noise escaped his mouth as you snaked your body against his. The warmth of your body flooded his senses, tingling from his toes all the way back to his groin.
The rapid rise and fall of your chest matched his as you kissed him with equal desperation, shaking him to the core.
With a suppressed moan, Five took you by the shoulders, pushing you down on the seat. Coming down to his knees in front of you, making is where some of the others couldn’t see you, he settled his body between your legs. 
He pushed your knees apart even more, then locked his mouth on yours again, his tongue thrusting inside urgently.
Clutching his shirt, you slid closer to him, until your hips met his.
Reaching for his pocket, Five closed his eyes and swallowed.
He pulled out the condom Diego gave him. Realizing what he was about to do, you snatched it and chucked it over his head, then immediately started unlatching his belt, sliding his zipper down to gather him in your palm.
“There is nothing that can ever come between us,” you said, nearly repeating what all the other Five’s had been saying but saying it meaning so much more than that. 
Five’s body involuntarily fell forward as you stroked him.
“I love you,” he breathed. It came out unsteady, a streak of hot liquid slipping from his eye no matter how much he willed it not to.
You fisted the back of his pants, drawing him closer, the deed earning you a low mewl emanating from deep within his throat.
You kissed him and brought your legs up around his waist.
His pants, already undone, slipped down his thighs, catching in a bunch of material above his knees as his cock bobbed between your bodies, fully erect.
Five moved his forehead against yours. He lifted the bottom of your dress up as you swept a finger over his leaking slit, spreading the liquid gathering down his shaft.
He hissed with pleasure.
Unable to stop himself even though he saw Brisket Five peeking over his shoulder for a second, Five took his cock in hand, and getting ready, your hands moved down behind you on the seat to keep you from slipping backwards. You arched your back, letting out a broken whimper the first time Five’s cock slid up against you.
“Holy shit,” Five breathed in on shaky air as he rubbed his tip across your clit a few times, then he positioned his cock lower, his slicked thickness gently pushing and prodding as he worked it over your hole like he’d never allowed himself to do before.
“Fuck,” he cursed, because that was exactly what it felt like as he tried to sink into your warmth but the tightness starting to surround him instantly fought back.
Gripping his length with more determination, his hand trembling, Five pushed harder. Sweat breaking out all over his body, he felt the pressure surrounding the sensitive bulb of his swollen flesh as your body started to let him inside. He felt your body clenching repeatedly around him as it adjusted and even that was almost enough to do him in.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he anxiously breathed.
Biting your lip as you tried to relax, looking up at him staring back through the dark strands of hair dangling over his eyes, you nodded, encouraging him along with one of your hands winding around his neck and your other sliding around his hip, gently but firmly pushing him to take more.
Five’s lower lip quivered as he did, his hand gripping his base moved out of the way as he opened you, moving so cautiously, as he forced your body to take him.
You sucked in a breath as his hips jerked forward just a little, then back again.
“Oh, fuck, that felt- Fuck,” he groaned.
He drove in, kissing you for just a moment before breathlessly breaking away again.
“We stay together until the end,” you frantically said, “You and me. If you go, I go.”
Five knew why you were saying this. He knew your heart was breaking, just like his. They were all trying to hide the truth, but you saw right through him. 
You always did.
There was only a fraction of space between your faces. With your breathy words on his lips, Five whispered back, “You and me, always, love.”
He slipped out and then back in, bottoming out in one swift motion.
You gasped and he pulled back, then completely stilled until you quickly moved your hands down his back, pulling at his waistcoat so he was forced to dig himself inside you again.
“Don’t stop,” you begged.
One more small thrust in and out and again he buried himself full deep, jolting your body as his fingers dug into your ass, locking you to him as much as he could.
Like he needed air to breathe, Five needed to be a part of you in every way he could in the minutes he had left. Audience of horny Fives be damned. Your heart and your soul was his.
He had to bury his face in your neck to stem the flow of his breathy curses over what his body was feeling as it took yours, claiming it completely.
“You feel amazing,” he puffed against your skin. It took him a few seconds to regain himself, but when he did, you brought your hand up to his hair, slowly carding it through your fingers as you drew his lip to yours. Your kiss was soft and soothing. After a moment, his body reactively started moving again, and your kiss deepened, letting him know he should keep going.
Five pulled his hips back, withdrawing halfway before pushing back into your perfect warmth as slowly as he could manage. But as you started to lift your hips to meet his, his pace got faster, and more confident, and again it felt so fucking good that he had to pull back from your lips to breathe. He went for the skin at your neck instead, tasting it, licking you as he nipped and sucked and wildly drove himself into you with his hips rocking and his thighs thrusting forward, the tips of his dress shoes digging into the floor as he wildly plowed you.
Fighting the urge to let himself come, Five growled, “Fuck this world, and fuck all of them, you are mine!”
The cheers of the other Five’s hearing that, all of them unable not to notice the show he was putting on, only made your Five get louder, increasing the madness of it all.
“You are mine!” he said again, getting angrier, but also not, because his diabolically cute grin said something else entirely.
“Five!” you cried out as he fucked into you harder and harder, shaking your brains loose.
Out of his mind, but somehow still in control enough to bite back the pressure building, Five suddenly started to move in slow, deep thrusts that were sweet and intense, and at first, very calculated. That abrupt change got you moaning like he was slowly killing you, your fingers clawing at his ass as he undulated his cock in and out, deliberately dragging his tip back and forth where it made you cry out his name the loudest.
Despite Five’s valiant efforts to control himself and prolong the thing you’d both been denied for so long, he could no longer hold back when your heels dug into his back.
When he dipped forward, laying over you as much as he could while fucking you on edge of the bench, you kissed the hollow of his throat, your hot tongue slick against his skin.
Just like he finally knew what he needed to do, Five knew that no matter what, he would always have this, even if you didn’t remember it. 
A weight lifting that he’d been crushed by for so long, wrapping his arms around your waist, Five lifted you forward with animal-like passion, bucking into you.
Like free falling, the heat of your release caressed his length as he continued to swiftly move in and out. You were lost, eyes closed, your mouth wide against his shoulder, silently crying out as your walls trembled around him, the feeling of ecstasy not letting up because he wasn’t.
Not until his rhythm began to break and Five could no longer hold back the rising tide did he tell you to look at him.
He locked eyes with you, his hips shunting forward in a stutter of broken motion he could no longer control. “You are the best part of me,” he panted as he started spilling deep inside you.
The whisper of his name on your lips served to move his hips once more, then as you cried his name, another spasm came to close his eyes as his body weakened and his face dropped to the side of your neck.
For almost a minute, Five stayed in that spot, waiting for his heart to slow. But all too quickly he had to withdraw.
As you were both righting your clothes, one of the Fives banged on the glass between the cars. “Button it up! Time to go!”
The train was slowing.
Placing your hand on his cheek as you fought back the start of more tears, you gave Five that beautiful smile that would forever touch his soul. 
~~~
Before setting out of the train, Brisket Five put a hand on Drunk Five’s back as he said, “It’s been an honor watching you slowly trying to drown yourself.”
Pulling his eyes from the floor, Drunk Five looked at the other him who was holding the butcher knife and smiled. “It’s been awful eating that shit you call food.”
Swinging his ax to his shoulder, Greeter Five kicked the Five with Dolores on his lap in the ankle. “You watched the whole thing, didn’t you? Just look at your pants,” he said pointing to his crotch and the boner that he was trying to use their beloved mannequin to hide.
“What,” he questioned innocently while turning Dolores towards him, looking for support. “Can’t blame a guy for being curious… If you fuckers wouldn’t have gotten jealous and started beating off like a bunch of pervs over it, Dolores was game to join in the fun. Weren’t you, honey?”
Smirking as he pushed his back off the side of the train, one of the Card playing Fives let out a little laugh. “He’s got a point.”
“I am not going to miss you fuckers,” Old Five said, smirking at he rolled his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Big Damnit here guys...
Okay so readers, I am so sorry, but Tumblr cut me off here and won't let me post more, and all we have left is Z!!!! It's so frustrating because it almost all fit on here. The end is worth it I promise, so please read it, it's not that long. I am not doing a separate post on here to end it because those get lost in the ether. So, please forgive me and head over to A03 to this link (Chapter 26, Z-Zion) to go directly to the final part of this story.
Long live the Umbrella Academy and its awesome fans. ❤️
Share your thoughts if you like but just know one way or another, thank you for reading this. It means so much to me.
Link to my MasterList
Link to all my Tumblr story and art Posts
Link to visit me on A03
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lucystark12 · 1 day
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oh good god please stop
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i propose an alternative...
lets look at the context of these three scenes, shall we?
scene 1: max and lucas
this is lucas referring to max's depression and her distancing herself from the party as a result. this is something very tangible and real that could be found in a real life conversation between two people in a relationship. the context of this would make sense if you put it in any other kind of movie. in scene one, lucas is displaying his care for max as an individual and for her feelings. he is there for her in her everyday emotional pursuits.
scene 2: mike and el
this happens during the monologue when mike is quite literally using his words and the fact that he is physically there for her to help her save the world. TO. HELP. HER. SAVE. THE. WORLD. mike infact wasn't there- nor does he clearly have any desire to be- for her throughout the nine months where they were on the opposite sides of the country. he literally is only able to have this conversation (if you could even call it that) with her when THE WORLD IS ENDING. hello.
scene 3: steve and nancy
once again- DIRE CIRCUMSTANCES. nancy was literally just vecna'd. she was just put into a trance by vecna, prompting steve to say this to her. listen to urself.
the fact that the two debatable couples of the trio are only saying this to each other in something so absurd as a supernatural monster attacking the girl in said scenario whereas lucas and max are having a very real and tangible conversation about every day issues- not lucas being there for her specifically because she's dying, but because he cares about her and her feelings- should say it all.
i'd also like to add the fact that steve/mike say this to nancy/el when they're practically incapacitated and can't respond. el can't because she's fighting vecna, and nancy is calming down from coming out of a vecna trance. they can't respond. they can't say there piece. max was able to do that in her conversation with lucas because they are in a healthy relationship where both sides of the equation are valued. if this phrase is to mean anything, it's not a stretch to assume that nancy and el's lack of ability to voice their thoughts is a direct metaphor for the fact that their voices aren't/weren't being heard in the relationship with the other person.
my last point: by this logic... WHERE IS JOPPER? jopper is the only couple that, as of now, is basically 100% canon. there's a chance the love triangles could go the other way and a chance max won't wake up. if this is "code for endgame couples" then where is the show's only couple that's actually going to be endgame for sure?
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sic-vita · 3 days
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Good Omens final fifteen + Clues
my thoughts under the cut:
I finally finished ep 6 and while picking up the pieces of my broken heart, these are what I think are Clues (Aziraphale's voice):
"give me coffee or give me death" - there's such significance to the way Metatron asked the question, it simply cannot be a throwaway line, especially when he later asks Aziraphale "will you take it?" when handing him the coffee cup. He doesn't say "take it" or simply shoves it at him which would be typical of heaven, but he gives Aziraphale a choice (coffee or death) - in other words, Aziraphale makes the choice but under the threat of death (something Metatron knew he would do, because Nina says "they never choose death" and he says "how predictable" ie. he knew exactly how this would go down)
prior to this Aziraphale has never drunk coffee, only tea and alcohol. He doesn't understand why Crowley would drink coffee when he's already stressed. In other words, the coffee itself is forced on Aziraphale - it seems that he has a choice ("will you take it?") but is it really a choice if his other option is death?
At no point does Aziraphale say "yes" - even when he's walking back to Crowley he says "I don't know what to say" - he's nowhere as excited as he pretends to be the moment he enters the bookshop. In fact, the entire walk over (with the Metatron watching him carefully), he's pensive and deeply troubled, almost like walking to his doom (which clashes with the cheery, almost romantic music that plays here, which adds subtext to the situation, that all is not what it seems to be)
Aziraphale's expression the moment the Metatron brings Crowley up and issues his subtle threat ("irregular"); the way his lips thin and he swallows and he instantly knows what this is all about ("give me coffee OR give me death")
Aziraphale's many many looks out of the window after Crowley has left and his repressed grief and outrage that he quickly masks everytime he looks back at the Metatron. I don't think it's just heartbreak and wanting to go after Crowley - I think something else is going on
tldr: Aziraphale chose the coffee Metatron presented to him because the alternative was death (for him and/or Crowley) and he is furious. Aziraphale's comments on heaven and it being good etc. are not because he's still fixated on that ideology, but it's the only way Aziraphale saw them being safe and together (the other option: death). The tragedy is that Crowley saw Aziraphale making an active choice to take heaven over them being together - but he didn't see why Aziraphale was making that choice (and if it was a choice at all). Earlier, Crowley said "What does your exactly mean? I feel like your exactly and my exactly are different exactlys" - the way they have failed to communicate throughout the millennial (as pointed out by Nina and Maggie) comes to a head here - in this situation with the Metatron watching, Aziraphale can't communicate exactly what's going on, and Crowley doesn't understand what he means because they have not properly communicated before what their "together" means - "run off together" vs "we can be together, angels" are not afterall, different togethers - once again, they're trying to save each other so they can be together, but the methods are different and the perspectives are different (ie. Crowley knows about the book of life threat vs Aziraphale knows about the Metatron "irregular" threat and neither knows what the other fears)
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basu-shokikita · 2 days
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Skwisblocked, a Klokllege fic
I really like @kaanagen's Klokllege AU about the boys going to college, so I decided to write a little one-shot based on Skwisgaar and Toki's dynamic in it. You can read the full post of her AU here!
Plot: Toki comes up with a bit of an unusual method to deal with his (seemingly) unrequited feelings for Skwisgaar.
As usual, full fic under the read more but you can also read it on ao3. Amazing art by Kaana also 🫶💖
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As usual, they had the last shift at the antique shop, which means it was their job to close the thing down, leave the place tidy and make sure the door was locked so no accidental shoplifting happened. Again. Toki wasn’t looking to get fired, so he was extra cautious with the keys now.
By the corner of his eye, however, he noticed a girl standing outside. She had long brown hair, silver hoops and a denim jacket over her loose, airy dress. A customer that came too late?
“Um, sorries, we ams closed.” He told her.
“Oh, no, it’s okay.” She smiled. “I’m just waiting for someone.” Her eyes darted to the inside of the store before looking away.
Ah. 
Toki went back into the store and heard Skwisgaar whistling as he arranged the boxes behind the desk, totally unaware of the exchange that had transpired. Toki opened his mouth and then closed it, choosing to turn off the remaining lights instead.
He liked Skwisgaar. He really liked him. What was there not to like, anyway? Skwisgaar was handsome, cool and really talented at the guitar. Maybe he was sort of grumpy, but it only added to his aloof demeanor. So it wasn’t surprising to him at all that he was so popular with girls.
That didn’t mean he was happy about it. 
__
About five minutes later, they were coming out of the back of the store. As Skwisgaar dunked the plastic wrap on the trashcan, Toki dared to ask. “Anythings funs for tonights?”
Skwisgaar closed the trashcan and rubbed his hands together. “Sleeps.” He walked down the alleyway, with Toki following quickly. “What abouts you?” A sly smirk. “Hangs with the college bands nerds?”
Toki wanted to act offended, but he couldn’t hold back a smile. “Very funnies.”
“Ja, dats my second names.”
“Reallies?”
“...Noes.”
Toki hesitated for a moment. “Does you wants to eats-”
“Hi!” They had barely crossed to the pavement when the girl came running to them. Before any of them had time to react, she continued. “I came by the store earlier.” She bit down her bottom lip, glancing at Skwisgaar.
“Oh.” Skwisgaar grinned. “Finds somethingks whats you likes?”
She giggled and, if there was any doubt remaining in Toki’s mind about her intentions, it was completely gone now. “You free tonight?”
“Wells-”
“W-We ams abouts to goes eats a borgers!” Toki impulsively got in between them. “We ams really hungries after works.” He rubbed his belly dramatically to emphasize the statement. “Buts you cans come pals if you wants?”
The girl’s gaze alternated between the two of them with surprise. “Sure?” She said, kind of confused. 
Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow at Toki but said nothing. He wasn’t lying, he really did want to ask Skwisgaar to grab dinner together. And just because he didn’t manage to get the words out before she arrived, didn’t mean he had to give up.
Right?
__
“Byes!” Toki bid his classmates farewell, before making his way for his next class. Although, checking his mail, he realized the professor had canceled the class that morning. Awesome, that meant he had time for a quick nap under the sun. Maybe pet some of the kitty cats in the grass. He was so grateful that this college allowed cats to lounge in the park, it was the perfect distraction on stressful days.
Merry on his way he was, when he spotted his other favorite distraction sitting at a nearby table. “Oh!” He raised his hand enthusiastically. “Skwisgaa-” But the word dropped out of his mouth when he realized Skwisgaar wasn’t alone.
Toki hid behind a bush as he spied on them. The girl sitting in front of Skwisgaar had blonde hair picked up in a high ponytail and rosy cheeks. She was wearing a white cardigan with a plain blue top underneath. Her auburn eyes seemed sweet and the way she stared at Skwisgaar was anything but platonic. 
Toki turned around and breathed in deeply, holding tightly onto his books. When he glanced at his books, an idea scoured his mind. 
__
“Skwisgaar! Skwisgaar!” Toki ran towards, shouting his friend’s name.
“Toki?” Skwisgaar called his name in confusion, only to be flabbergasted when Toki dropped his books dramatically on the table. “Whats?!”
“You gotsa helps me!” Toki cried out, pointing at his books. “This financements class! It ams killings me!”
Skwisgaar clenched his jaw. “Tokes, ams in the middols of somet’inks right nows.” He glanced at his companion. “You knows?”
As if he hadn’t noticed her, Toki turned towards the girl. “Oh, Gods! Cans you helps me? I has a tests comings up and-”
“Toki!”
“Oh, it’s no big deal!” She smiled gently and Toki almost felt bad for crashing their date. “Are you guys friends?”
“Ja!”
“Noes!”
She laughed heartily, extending her hand to Toki. “I’m Jennifer, Skwisgaar’s classmate.”
Toki extended his hand back. “Ams Toki!”
“Well, Toki,” Jennifer said, inspecting his books. “I think I know a thing or two about finances.”
He smiled, amazed that his plan had worked. “Reallies?”
Skwisgaar, on the other hand, was completely baffled. And Toki? Toki felt ecstatic over his newfound power.
From then on it just kept happening.
Like when Toki was heading to the club and he found Skwisgaar and a short girl with curly red hair at the fountain. The sun was setting which made the location all the more attractive, with the golden reflection of the water bouncing back on their faces. They were dangerously close, with Skwisgaar holding her waist, whispering sweet nothings into her so Toki had to think fast. 
“No ways!” He pointed at the couple. “Skwisgaar, you dumpeds Jennifers?”
Whatever romantic mood there was, it completely dissipated as Skwisgaar turned towards him like he had seen a ghost. “Heugh?”
“Jennifer?” She took a step back. “Who’s Jennifer?”
“Jennifers!” Toki answered quickly. “The sweet girls Skwisgaars was goings out with de other days! Why you does that, Skwisgaars? She ams so nices!”
The red-head turned towards Skwisgaar and he put up his hands instantaneously. “Waits-”
“Asshole!” She slapped Skwisgaar right across the face. 
“Augh!” Skwisgaar rubbed the swollen cheek. 
“Wowee!” Toki was surprised by the sight but she glared at him with anger. “Um,” He tried to look for candy in his pocket, as she approached him. “Does you wants-”
She smacked him in the face. “You too!” She said and strode away.
“Yous cheatingks on yous boyfriends, too!” Skwisgaar yelled at her, still massaging his cheek. “Whats?!” He barked at Toki.
__
Or when he interrupted Skwisgaar’s meet-cute at the library by constantly asking the girl about bugs. 
Or when he surprised Skwisgaar and the girl he was evidently planning to sleep with by waiting at his dorm because it was ‘guitar night’ and played songs for her under Skwisgaar’s annoyed stare.
Or when he kept sending drinks ‘on the house’ for the girl Skwisgaar had come with, at the bar he also worked part-time at. He got fired soon after, though.
Or when he-
“Dats it! Ams done!” Skwisgaar screeched, pants entirely soaked because Toki dropped soda on him when he was asking Skwisgaar’s date about her hand-made skirt. She left while laughing at Skwisgaar, obviously. “What does you wants?!”
Toki feigned innocence. “What you means?”
“You ams been ruins kings my dates for weeks! Weeks, Toke! Can’ts remembers the last times I gets laids!”
Pride swelling in his chest, Toki tried not to smile. “I just wants to pals, Skwisgaar! And dese ladies ams so nice soez I can’ts helps it.” He looked down in pretense shame.
Skwisgaar squinted at him for far too long, and Toki feared he had seen his through motives. “...You wants a goils?” He asked.
This could be the moment. This could be it, when he finally admitted to Skwisgaar how he felt. In the american movies Toki had seen, this is when the confession would happen. And Skwisgaar would like him back, and they would be happy forever after.
“Uh, ja! I wants a goil…friends, haha…” He scratched the side of his face, laughing awkwardly. Reality wasn’t so perfect like those movies.
“Wells, den just says dats.” Skwisgaar rolled his eyes. “I cans sets you up with somes goils. Just stops beingks dildos.”
“Haha, okays!” Toki agreed, slinging an arm around Skwisgaar’s. “Whats abouts a Marios Karts before works?”
Skwisgaar’s face was still severe, brows furrowed when he looked at Toki. However, his expression swifty softened. “Fines.”
“Hoorays!” Toki cheered, pulling his vintage console from his messenger bag. “Ams gonnas destroy yous!”
“Eugh, keeps dreamingks, littol dildo.” Skwisgaar said, though he was smirking. “Mademes Peaches and me ams a pretties good teams.”
“Yoshis and Tokes ams betters!” Toki countered, laughing too.
As they walked away, he wondered if he’d ever have the bravery to tell Skwisgaar the truth. If he’d ever had the courage to ruin what they had for a meek gamble. 
Perhaps one day, but definitely not this one.
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mkaroy · 10 hours
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so we all saw multiverse scar confirmed, now while the multiverse is only as expansive as hermitcraft, i think it’s fun to theorize life series scar is also in there, which makes my worm brain go “he paints the desert, he does lots of desert paintings but he hides them away as a way to try to forget how that ended because grian is still his neighbour” which makes me SOO SAD
I think that the life series is like a closely related alternate universe, he feels things that he’s feeling in this other life and sometimes pseudo-memories bubble up and scars way of coping is to paint it all out of his head so he doesn’t ever have to think about it (until, again, it inevitably bubbles up)
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spiderplanter · 2 days
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SPIN N’ TICKLE
•*¨*•.¸¸☆*・゚゚・*☆¸¸.•*¨*•
Hello Everyone! I had the privilege to collab on a new game with @laugh-and-love2 Go give him a follow!
This game is very loose and can be alternated however between players.
How to Play ⇩
# of players - 2+
Levels: Each one determines how long you get tickled for. To determine which level you’ll get, ask Siri, Alexa, Echo, or whatever AI you have to pick a number 1-3. You’ll need to do this for every turn!
Level 1- 10 seconds
Level 2- 30 seconds
Level 3- 5 minutes
Tools:
The opponent can use said tool on you either on the next round, or for the duration of the game whenever they please. Flip a coin to determine.
Heads- next turn only
Tails- for the duration
Opponent Spot of Choice: There’s two of these slots on the wheel.
Slot 1- Silence. When getting tickled, you can not make a sound or you lose your turn.
Slot 2- Stay Still. You cannot move whatsoever or you lose your turn.
Body Part: This one’s pretty self explanatory. Whatever body part you land on, you get your level and if you can’t hold out for the set time, you lose your turn.
Hide and Seek: Whoever lands on this one has 1 minute to hide. The opponent sets a timer for 5 minutes after the 1 minute passes by. If the hider is successful, the seeker loses the turn and vice versa.
Mini Game slots: Also self explanatory. Get a level, your opponent can choose what spot they would like to tickle, if the you lose before time runs out, you lose your turn.
Sudden Death: Whoever lands on this slot automatically loses the game and gets tickled whenever and however the opponent chooses for the rest of the day/evening/ night.
Winner/ Loser:
When a turn is lost, an article of clothing is to be removed upon discussing with the players on what is acceptable or not. If you win your turn, you have the option to put any piece of clothing back on. To determine the loser of the game, would be whoever strips down to the last piece of clothing discussed.
As stated in the beginning, you can alternate this game however you please. These rules are just what @laugh-and-love2 and I came up with! Once you click on the link, you have the ability to add or remove whatever you please to make the game your own! Thank you so much for playing and if you have videos or pictures from your game that you post please tag us because we’d love to see! <3
Please be sure if you alternate the slots on the wheel to adjust it back to its original form when your game is over! Enjoy :)
Link to the Wheel- https://spinthewheel.app/nI2mns4eUQ
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clarisse0o · 3 days
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Camp Wiegman-Part 78
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.
I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.
"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.
"Oh yes."
"It will be well-deserved."
We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.
"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.
"Camping, huh?"
"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"
"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.
"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.
"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.
"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."
"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."
"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."
"Oh no. That's not like you at all."
I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.
"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."
"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."
"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."
I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.
"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.
I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.
"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."
"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."
"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."
"Okay," I murmured.
"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"
"A little…"
"Everything will be fine, I promise."
I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.
"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."
"Doesn’t it bother you...?"
"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."
"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."
"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."
She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.
"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.
My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.
Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.
It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.
"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."
"And I missed you."
We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:
"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.
"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."
"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."
She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.
"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."
I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.
"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.
"Long, but overall good."
"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."
I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.
"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.
- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.
- "Great."
We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.
- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"
I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.
- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"
- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"
- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."
- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."
- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."
- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."
- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."
I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.
- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.
- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."
He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.
- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.
- "Mandie."
- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."
I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.
- "Oh, um..."
She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.
- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."
- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.
- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.
- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."
I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.
- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"
- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."
We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.
- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.
- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"
- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.
- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.
- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."
- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."
- "Oh yes..." I breathe.
I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.
- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.
- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"
I laugh, shaking my head.
- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.
- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."
I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.
- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.
- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."
- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."
- "That’s true."
I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.
- "Maybe we could consider getting one."
I look up at Lucy in surprise.
- "Really?"
- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."
- "Definitely, yes!"
I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.
- "Alright," she says, standing up.
- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.
We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.
- "Will you show me our room?"
I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.
"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »
I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.
"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."
"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."
"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."
I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.
"Okay... Thank you."
"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."
"You haven't been back since?"
"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."
I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.
"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."
She nods in understanding.
"Come here."
She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.
"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."
"I know... But it's stronger than me."
"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."
"Really?"
"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."
She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.
"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."
I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.
"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."
"Oh, really? Better than mine?"
"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.
"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."
"Wh-"
I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.
"S-stop, p-please."
"Oh, now you’re begging?"
I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.
"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"
I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.
"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.
Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.
"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."
I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.
"Please. You can’t torture me like this."
"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."
I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.
"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"
The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.
"See? That wasn’t so hard."
"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."
"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."
"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.
I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.
"Sweetheart..."
"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."
"Okay," she sighs.
She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.
"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."
"But!"
I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.
"If I don’t get to, neither do you."
"Oh, you’re like that now?"
"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."
I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.
"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.
"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."
"Who said it would be in a bed?"
Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.
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ranticore · 2 days
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wanted to very quickly make up an interesting & engaging culture for the lil kobold guys so that it hurts more when they all die. here's my ramble about that.
they are not reptiles but like many reptiles they develop into male or female based on ambient temperature during embryonic development, but they also evolved into endothermic livebearers. so with the parent at regular body temp it's a fifty-fifty sex-at-birth split, but in conditions of colder-than-average daughters are produced, and hotter-than-average gives you sons. other sex traits are temperature linked so it can also be possible to trans your sex if you go through a temperature shock in either direction (hypo/hyperthermia) but that's pretty rare because you'd be more likely to die. other traits are temperature-linked including skintone saturation, hair coverage, etc and can change over time throughout an individual's life.
all of these are evolutionary traits to allow them to survive seasons without a dragon in the cave providing warmth; the lairs are usually high up in cold mountainous regions. a dragon's lair then has zonations of temperature from hottest (dragon) to coldest and kobolds are able to exploit the widest range possible. when there is no dragon, there's almost no warmth (as campfires and the like are lethal in tunnel systems), and in extreme circumstances colonies can become all-female and propagate by parthenogenisis until a dragon settles the lair again and provides warmth. naturally their little colonies are matriarchal, and the matriarch has to commune with the dragon in an area that is extremely hot (because of the dragon). this causes her to only bear sons. it means that there also has to be a mother of matriarchs whose job it is to produce a matriarch, which she does by staying in the cold parts of the cave, to give birth to daughters. the daughters can be next in line for matriarch if they can survive the dragon (i.e.. if it chooses not to kill em) and thereafter have to stay in the hot zone.
anyway this results in a kind of alternation of generations and two complimentary ruling bloodlines who, while related, can never meet past birth - if a matriarch has a daughter it's an indication that she was not as close with the dragon as her duties demand (she is supposed to interpret the dragon's moods and provide predictions of future prosperity based on them). and if a mother of matriarchs has a son it means she was also not being dutiful enough (but i mean. ice baths all day everyday aren't fun either so this scenario is more common than the reverse). once a mother of matriarchs has a son then she's out of a job due to old superstitions that sons, being smaller at birth and easier to produce, will permanently taint a uterus by showing it the easy way out, and thereafter it will always pick that route. that's only superstition tho. the matriarch & mother of matriarchs both have a group of consort malewives. these usually have a mix of cold and hot phase traits and tend to bounce between temperature zones so they don't become too inclined in any direction.
the colony does not have only two reproductive members ofc, these are only ruling bloodlines. most individuals are not born from a matriarch or mother of matriarchs, and when the lair is occupied by a dragon there should be an even bimodal distribution of sex traits. a child is named based on imagery from both parents' dreams during the baby's first sleep (there is no day or night. baby is left out unattended by the dragon while it sleeps and the dragon 'decides' if it's worthy to live or not. dragon doesn't give a fuck and is barely aware of all this btw). if it survives it gets two names, one from each parent. then later in life those two names are used by the matriarch (if upperclass/Important) or the division leader (if lowerclass; hunters, scavengers, etc) to pair up one individual with another who has a complimentary name. the four names should go well together and paint a nice word-picture. the two individuals then become partners in a kind of culturally-enshrined buddy system and do their tasks together. it's very dangerous in the warrens and tunnels after all and it's best to go in pairs.
for example holly's full name is Holly Burn (due to being the very unlucky son of a mother of matriarchs, who had to retire; he 'burned' her) and his partner's name is Red Leaf. the names when spoken together make a little four-word poem which is optimally good in their culture
so that's what i got since last night but i have more Ideas. anyway all that's going on including some intense interpersonal drama between himself and red leaf when the knights come
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faketrex · 2 days
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How about "2) the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning" for firstprince? 👀
Thank you, Sara! 💝 For prompt number 2, "the last room at a drive-in motel in the small hours of the morning."
RWRB, firstprince, alternate universe, a little bit of faux noir. Spies? Maybe! It's an... interlude. Plot creep was real with this one.
...
Just because the banging on the door–the banging that wakes him from the first sleep he's gotten in more than twenty-four hours–isn't a surprise, that doesn't mean that Alex fucking enjoys it.
On the nightstand, the red numbers on the radio alarm clock show 03:35 AM. Hard pass. Alex mashes one ear into his pillow; who knows, maybe he'll get lucky and it'll reduce the noise by half.
The banging gets louder. He'd expected that.
"Open the bloody door, Lexington, I know you're in there."
Whoever’s in the room on the other side of Alex's headboard starts pounding on the wall, too, in an aggressive rhythm that Alex recognizes: it's the sound of a business traveler who's not going to put up with any shit. "Be quiet, it's three in the morning!"
"Fine," Alex yells back as he rolls to his feet. He bangs one fist against the wall twice for good measure. Might as well join in on the fun. "I'm up, I'm up. Everyone hold your fucking horses."
Contrary to every one of his instincts, there's no need to check the peephole–or put on shoes, or even a shirt–before unlatching the door and swinging it open.
Alex has, in fact, been expecting this visit.
"You know, sweetheart, some of us like to live our lives using a little thing called subtlety. Fly under the radar, so to speak." He looks Henry up and down, eyes skimming over the crisp suit, the slicked-back hair, the shoes that had probably cost more than half the furniture in this motel room. "Does that concept ring any bells in your pretty little head?"
"Your charm is matched only by your shameless hypocrisy, as usual."
"Yeah? Should I even ask what kind of bogus James Bond car you've got parked outside?"
"Ah, but that would ruin the surprise," Henry demurs, deadpan.
Alex leans to the right and up onto his toes, but the parking lot is dim and misty–and he can't make much out beyond Henry's broad shoulders, anyway. They're a little distracting, and not just because of the raindrops spattered across his expensive suit. All of Henry is a little distracting. "Give me a hint?"
"Gather your things and come see for yourself."
"Well, maybe I'd rather just go back to bed, baby. It's always a treat to see you, but–"
"Shut up, shut up, I'm calling the front desk!"
In the pause following the threat, Henry reaches out and trails the tips of his fingers up Alex's bare clavicle. "Your neighbor would seem to agree with my plan."
"My neighbor hasn't got a leg to stand on after watching Wheel of Fortune so loudly, I could spell all the words myself. For five fucking hours. And–" The memory of Henry's touch on Alex's skin is staggering. "And you're late, Henry."
"Alex," Henry whispers, hushed, softly enough it's more breath than sound. "Love. There's coffee in the car."
Lucky for Henry, Alex's bag is already packed.
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steddiebang2024 · 3 days
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When The Buzzer Sounds  |  Mature |  31K
Author: @steddieasitgoes
Artist: @hellfiredemon 
Beta Reader: @sidekickjoey
[Link to fic]  |  [Link to art]
Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Lucas Sinclair, The Party
Tags: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Second Chances, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, Future Fic, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Mild Sexual Content, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclar Friendship, Flashbacks, Homophobia Doesn’t Exist 
Trigger Warnings: N/A
↳ Keep reading below for a summary!
The cameraman stands a few yards away from them, feet solidly on the court, with no urgency to move on until he gets what he wants. This isn’t the first time this has happened to them, and it certainly won’t be the last. Whenever they’re in public, they’re always SteveandRobin so inseparable they must be dating. 
But it’s not their freckled faces that grace him when he looks up. It’s his face, yes. Perfectly combed and styled hair, a smattering of moles, and hazel eyes a little wider than usual staring back at him. But it’s the face to his left that shocks him. Unruly curls frame a pale face. The peripheral big, wild, brown eyes that are too busy staring at him in bewilderment like a deer in headlights than looking directly into the camera’s lens. 
Shit. 
“Um, Steve?”
Tearing his eyes away from the Jumbotron is a battle Steve almost loses. Not because he’s not strong enough, but because the thought of meeting Eddie’s bewildered eyes head-on is enough to send him running. Still, he does just that, schooling his face in something that, he hopes, resembles a neutral expression. 
“Don’t worry, they’ll move on,” Steve says, only half believing the words himself.
Or:
The year is 1998 and Lucas is set to make his NBA debut. Nothing is going to keep Steve from being there to witness this monumental moment. Eddie apparently shares the same sentiment and the two find themselves in the same place at the same time for the first time since they blurred the lines of their once-solid friendship four years ago at Dustin's wedding.
Surprisingly, Steve and Eddie manage to fall back into their friendship easily. That is until their playful conversation at half-time gets interpreted as flirting and the two find themselves the latest victims in the dreaded Kiss Cam tradition. With a stadium watching and his own desire taking over, Steve must decide if kissing Eddie "for the bit" is worth jeopardizing their rekindled friendship.
Who knows, maybe a peer-pressured kiss will be the spark to get them to talk about that night four years ago when everything changed.
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iz1331 · 1 day
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Alternative Universe where Astrid Deetz and Wednesday Addams are cousins and as classic Addams family kookiness, they look identical! Lydia's mom is an Addams! 
The other direction of this AU is Astrid being Betelgeuse and Lydia's child, and Betelgeuse is an Addams. But, Richard is such a cool dude and Astrid loves him so much, and he made Lydia happy before they fell out of love. Except for the part where he ghosted (literally and figuratively) Lydia and Astrid all these years after his death, though he turned out fine in the end. So, I didn't want to completely cut him off the Deetzes life.
Since, we now know that Lydia's biological mother is still alive, maybe when she heard about Charles' death, she reached out to Lydia and Astrid after the events of the film.
Not really sure if they're estranged from one another all these years, but it's an AU, so make room for author's creative liberty with the relationship.
She finds out that Astrid can now also see ghosts, and offered/suggested for her to be transferred to Nevermore Academy when she heard that one of Astrid's Addams cousins has also started going there.
And wouldn't it just be the wackiest plot twist if Betelgeuse was appointed as the new principal? (I've got a whole ass story of how this could be possible, but maybe in the future posts.)
With Lydia now ending Ghost House, she could've been offered a place in the teaching staff. Maybe a position about communing with ghosts or negotiations or something.
Astrid and Lydia may not be aware that the new principal is Betelgeuse in disguise.
"Here's a preview. Be warned. It's intense."
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Add his Bruce Wayne glasses and boom! A changed man! Or maybe a pair of Hubane Vernum blackout glasses (subtle black and white striped motif, of course) that he refuses to take off because even with his altered appearance, personality and mannerisms, those dark circles just ain't coming off. You know what I mean? They're more stubborn than the mold/moss.
This started out as an Astrid centric AU/potential fanfic in my mind when I watched the teaser for Wednesday Season 2, with background Lydia and Betelgeuse. Then, it kinda spiralled down into Astrid living her teenage life only to be caught in this maelstrom of love-hate-sexual tension filled drama between her mom and this kinda familiar, but also not, guy that shoved himself in their new life. 😭
I may update this AU from time to time, but, feel free to add anything you want here.
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