#i like how she gradually goes outside more and more and comes out of her shell

[amelikos]

From the New Year Special that aired today (January 5). Pics from an upcoming episode. Given how the monthly calendar for January featured Dot, it might be from an episode airing this month?

Dot is wearing a backpack (first time she is seen with one!) and has a shopping bag, so I wonder if she went shopping with everyone else. That would be a first too. She meets a Kanuchan (potentially will end up being her second partner?).

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(image updated: 9/21/24)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rougues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title striped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifacts wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[ellastone-olsen]

Smoking kink with mommy Wanda.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, mommy kink, smoking obviously, shy reader, alcohol, age gap

AN: lmao guys I’m back after month of silence, I'm rested and ready to worship Lizzie and other women again.

I was just thinking about my smoking kink and a picture of you and mommy Wanda, standing on the porch of her house appeared in my head. Perhaps you just went to visit your friends and met her, perhaps it was a small neighborly gathering, but it doesn’t matter.

The main thing is that you are standing together on the porch, and there is the second glass of wine already in your hands, which she kindly offered you. She tries to light a cigarette, it seems that it was some kind of thin and menthol (such a cliché) and because of the strong wind, the weak flame of the lighter goes out every time and you move closer to her to cover it from the wind. And when the cigarette begins to smolder, you look in a trance at her lips wrapped around the filter and smell the smell of tobacco, which is instinctively associated with Wanda.

You cover your face in shame, pretending to enjoy the wine, when in fact watching her smoke was the hottest (literally lmao) sight. She says something about the terrible weather and the constant rain, but you only half listen to her as your eyes follow her hands. Behind her thin long fingers with a cigarette and you think what these fingers could do with you... And then you look up and watch how smoke comes out of her lips and Wanda’s tongue passes along her lower lip.

It seems that this smoke went straight to your head, otherwise why else can’t you think in another direction other than about obscenity with this woman.

Oh, of course, she noticed that you were mentally somewhere not here and finished her monologue about the weather and asked. "Do you want?" You didn’t immediately understand what she meant, only when you saw her handing you a cigarette. Wanda knew that you didn’t smoke, but her first guess about your reaction to her bad habit was that you were simply afraid to ask her to let you try. You looked at the smoke that rose between you both and did’t move. “I...no thanks, I don’t smoke.”

Silence followed you again and the puzzle in the older woman’s head began to take shape. “Are you sure you don’t want to?” She asked in the hope that you would think twice about it. All that came out of your mouth was a string of unintelligible stutters and then she placed her free hand on yours that was holding the glass and lowered them so she could see your red face. Wanda advanced on you, gradually pressing you into the railing until she was so close that her chest was pressed against yours. "I think you will like it." She whispered and took another drag, looking into your eyes. And then she leaned towards your lips, barely touching to exhale the bitter smoke.

Now the smoke that was in her lungs ended up in yours and the nicotine instantly entered your bloodstream, causing you even more dizziness and an attack of euphoria. Wanda's hand with the cigarette rose to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and the woman asked another question in a whisper. “Well, dear? How do you like it?” An uncontrollable moan escaped from your mouth, giving Wanda the green light and she broke her lips on yours, immediately using her tongue inside you. The glass of wine was put aside somewhere and your hands grabbed the railing because you felt like you might fall.

Wanda took your face in her hands and kissed you so greedily, as if she were a wild animal, whispering “Good girl” between kisses and “Let Mommy do the work” which made your core throb.

She having to pull away because someone came outside looking for the two of you and she ended up smoking the rest of her cigarette like she did in the beginning; leaving you at the railing with burning cheeks and heat between your thighs.

The last thing Wanda said to you was “Go upstairs when they’re all gone, second door on the right.” She turned around and winked at you, walking into the warmth and noise of the house.

[hyperfixatedbastard]

do you write hypnosis stuff?? it's not specifically against the rules but idk it's kind of an iffy era for a lot of writers-

if it's okay with you, could you write some Vox x Singer!Reader who he uses his mind control on to sell their soul to him so they remain under the VoxTek label? (im sure remaining with him is an ulterior motive of his as well lol)

thanks :]

I can absolutely do that! I’m a little iffy about NSFW hypnosis, but I can do a SFW oneshot :)

siren songs

Obsessed!Vox x Singer!GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

WARNINGS: Yandere-ish behavior, hypnosis, manipulation, toxic behavior, all that good stuff

A/N: I told y'all I'd be back with some toxic Vox!! I wasn't entirely sure how to end this one, but I've spent enough time rewriting it to stop caring. This one is only romantic in theory - nothing actually romantic happens between Vox and Reader, it's more mutual pining than anything else This is also my first time writing obsessive behavior, so I hope I did it well!

Dividers

You’ve been working with the Vees for years now. You were originally recruited by Velvette, who’s like a bloodhound for new talent. She saw some popular videos of your singing online, and she made you famous.

But you don’t work with her that much, oddly enough. Over time, you gradually started to see her less and less. Vox was the one to take her place. By the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it—you’re certainly not an equal to the Vees, so there wasn’t much you could do. Sure, you could’ve quit then and there, as you’d never signed a soul-binding contract, but you really liked your job. You were getting to do what you loved for a living! Who wouldn’t want that?

Well, you. You don’t want that anymore. You’re getting burnt out. You feel like you’re out of creativity for writing songs, and singing no longer has the same appeal it used to. It feels like a chore. Getting on stage doesn’t get you excited—it just fills you with dread.

Then you saw the videos of the annual clown pageant down in the Greed Ring. How Fizzarolli, Mammon’s favorite little jester, just…quit. Just like that. 

Can you do that?

You don’t have backup like Fizzarolli did. There’s no Prince of Hell to protect you if the Vees lash out in response to your resignation. But the Vees aren’t Mammon. They’re powerful Overlords, sure, but they wouldn’t kill off an easy cash grab like you. And they don’t have any leverage to use against you—you’re a fucking superstar, you learned to stop keeping secrets a long time ago.

Yeah, you can totally do this!

You spend the next week making a plan. You currently live in V Tower, so finding another living arrangement is a priority. Luckily, your standards are just as low as before you got famous, so snatching up an apartment doesn’t take long. You’ve been building up savings for some time now, just little bits here and there that wouldn’t look suspicious among your bank withdrawls, so you have enough money to last you a while. You’ve made a go-bag, but you’re not too worried about bringing anything with you, as you have enough cash to just buy new shit. By the time the end of the week comes around, you’ve got your escape plan ready to go. All that’s left is to actually quit.

You decide that directly speaking to Vox is your best option. Velvette and you don’t have the same rapport that you used to, and Valentino is just… no. During your time working with Vox, you like to think there’s some sort of friendship there. The two of you chat amicably, and he always makes sure you’re okay when it comes to creepy fans and the like. You feel like there could be something more than just friendship, but you don’t plan on staying long enough to find out. As much as you like Vox, you’re not willing to spend the rest of your afterlife hating every second of your job just for him.

You stand outside Vox’s lair, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation. You take a deep breath, and right before you can knock on the door, it opens.

Okay, here goes.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You aren’t as sneaky as you seem to think you are.

A normal boss wouldn’t have noticed the small transactions in your bank account, or the little trips you’ve been taking to go look at apartments. But Vox isn’t a ‘normal boss’ by any means. And he noticed.

From the moment Vox set eyes on you, he knew he wanted you. You’re beautiful, and fuck, your voice—he just can’t get you out of his damn head, no matter how hard he tries. And he really fucking tried. But he couldn’t avoid you, thanks to VoxTek being such an integral part of your performances. And you’re like a damn siren with that voice of yours, even though he’s supposed to be the hypnotizing one here. Eventually, he just gave in and accepted that he was more than a little obsessed with you. That’s why he started drawing you closer to him, pushing away Velvette and taking control of your brand. He doesn’t like sharing.

Obsession isn’t a particularly new feeling for Vox. He certainly has… tendencies. But this isn’t like whatever the fuck he’s got going on with that deer-headed, old-timey bastard Alastor. It’s not a lust thing, either. You’re certainly attractive, and Vox most definitely would sleep with you, but that’s not the main factor at play here. This is a deeper obsession than any of that bullshit.

Vox knows that he doesn’t own your soul. He’s well aware that he can’t truly stop you from quitting. Even if he managed to trap you inside V Tower, he can’t force you to keep up the performances. If he had you under a proper soul-binding contract, though…

He would own you.

Now, he’s not Valentino. He doesn’t plan to take that kind of advantage over you. He doesn’t want to change a damn thing. He just wants you to stay.

And he will make you stay.

He knows when you approach his office, and he opens the doors with the touch of a button on his desk. He plasters that casually perfect smile on his screen and turns to face you as you enter. The doors shut behind you.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, my dear,” he lies easily, the charismatic mask fitting into place like it was never absent in the first place. “How can I help you?”

You hesitate, your anxiety starting to get to you. But you’re determined to do this. You clear your throat and step forward. “I’m resigning.”

Vox’s smile doesn’t falter, nor does his screen glitch. His demeanor is…unnerving, to say the least. You’ve known him to be temperamental, emotional. You expected some kind of reaction. But he’s just smirking at you like he always does.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to change your mind,” he replies smoothly, tilting his head to the side just slightly.

“No,” you confirm, trying to sound confident in your answer. You’re not sure if you succeed. “I’ve already made my decision.”

Vox sighs, though he doesn’t sound very defeated. His smirk hasn’t gone away, either. “Well, then. It’s been a pleasure working with you, darling.”

He holds his hand out for you to shake. The gesture immediately worries you, as it’s the well-known sign of a deal. But you reassure yourself that there’s no deal being made here. Hell may be chaotic, but there’s rules when it comes to these kinds of things. Neither of you have offered anything, therefore there’s no harm in shaking his hand. It’s just a respectful gesture of a boss wishing their employee farewell. It all feels too easy, but you’re too relieved to think too hard about it.

You go to take his hand, but as you lift your head up to meet his gaze, everything goes fuzzy.

Vox grabs you by your wrist before you can shake his hand. He’s not rough with you. He’s careful of his claws, ensuring they don’t put too much pressure on your skin. Not that you’d notice, either way—your mind is far gone at this point, thanks to those spirals in his eye.

“In exchange for your soul, you’ll remain under the VoxTek label and continue working for me. Your work will remain the same as before. You’ll forget about leaving. You will want to stay here. You will want to stay here with me.”

A golden scroll appears out of thin air, and it floats in front of you as it unfurls. “Sign it.”

Your body moves on its own. You sign your name on the line at the bottom of the page.

Vox releases your wrist, and takes your hand in his own as his eye reverts back to its normal state. When you come to just moments later, he’s shaking your hand with calm professionality.

“I’m glad we got that sorted out,” Vox remarks smoothly, his smirk looking almost proud now. “I look forward to your next performance, my dear.”

You blink a few times as you become more lucid and aware. “Uh, yeah. Can’t wait!”

You smile, and Vox releases your hand, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You don’t remember what exactly you came in here for, but you’re happy with the outcome.  “Perfect.”

[lozchi]

KNOCKDOWN Chapter 1

Masterlist Pairing(s):Sukuna x F!Reader, Modern AU

Themes: Suggestive content, profanity, mild violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, OOC, fluff, angst(ish)

Chapter 1: 3,567 words

Surrounded by textbooks, notes, and surgical procedure diagrams, you find yourself completely focused on your medical studies as you sit at your messy desk. The sole source of light in the room is the gentle radiance of your desk lamp, creating elongated shadows on the pages – focused on the intricate drawings, trying to remember every part of the procedure. The outside world gradually disappears, and time goes by without you realizing it, the bright daytime gradually transitions into the dark colors of evening outside your window, enveloping you in a quiet state of intense concentration.

A voice calls out your name, faint and far away, barely noticeable in your awareness. You allowed it to go by without losing your concentration. Shortly after, the voice rings once more, with increased volume and urgency, disrupting your concentrated state.  

The abrupt calling seems like a harsh disruption in the fragile strand of your focus, and you work to ignore the annoyance.You sigh in frustration and mumble quietly, "Ugh, what do you want, Shoko?"

Shoko’s voice rang out through your shared apartment once more, jolting you from your concentration as she yelled your name.

You looked up from the sea of medical papers strewn across your desk. “What’s up, Shoko?”

“'What's up?' You fucking tell me 'what's up'! you haven’t eaten yet. How long are you gonna be nose-deep in all those papers?” she asked, leaning against your doorframe with an exasperated look.

Six years into med school, you were suffering. The endless studying, the sleepless nights—it all weighed heavily on you. Shoko was in the same boat, but she always seemed to handle it better. Maybe because she indulged in stress-free activities or she was just naturally talented in managing herself, maybe both. Whatever it is, she hid her struggles well.

“Relax.” you said, trying to sound casual. “Just a few more pages and I’ll eat breakfast.”

Shoko’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s literally 6 in the evening. What do you mean ‘breakfast’!?”

She walked over, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “You need to take some time for yourself. I bet you don't even know what day it is.”

You rolled your eyes, though you knew she had a point. “I do get to relax sometimes.”

Shoko smirked. “When was the last time you had fun?”

“Yesterday!” you replied, a bit defensively. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Doing what?”

You hesitated, then admitted, “I killed five mosquitoes in a row.”

Shoko blinked at you, then burst out laughing. “Seriously? That’s your idea of fun?”

You sighed, unable to help but smile at her incredulity. “It was surprisingly satisfying.”

Shoko shook her head, her laughter subsiding into a warm, affectionate smile. “You’re something else, you know that? But seriously, take a break. The world won’t end if you step away from the books for a little. You really need to loosen up a bit more. How about we cook some food and watch a movie?"

You glanced at the mountain of papers in front of you, feeling the weight of all the work yet to be done. But as you looked at Shoko’s earnest expression, you realized she was right. You did need a break, even if it was just for a little while. You nodded, knowing she was right. “Okay, okay. I’ll rest. Just for a bit.”

Shoko grinned, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Good. Now come on, let’s get some real food in you before you wither away.”

As you followed her out of the room, you couldn’t help but think about how much you relied on her to keep you grounded. Despite how hard med school was, having a friend like Shoko made it all a bit more bearable.

“Okay..." you conceded. “But I'm picking the movie.”

“Deal." Shoko said with a grin. You leaned back in your chair, letting out a long breath. Maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Shoko took out several vegetables from the fridge, humming to herself as she began to prepare dinner. She glanced over her shoulder at you, a playful smirk on her face, deciding to tease you once again. “Y’know, I bet you have no idea what a Ligma is.” she laughed.

"Shut up, I know what that is."

Shoko smirked, but she remained silent. Just then, her phone rang, and she answered it quickly. “Ah, sorry, I actually have something to attend to. Don’t forget to eat!” she called out, grabbing her bag and heading to the door.

“I’m eating instant ramen,” you muttered to yourself as you watched her leave. With a sigh, you decided to head to the nearby convenience store to pick up some good old cup ramen.

-

Once you arrived at the nearby 7/11, you crouched down in front of the aisle to grab a cup of ramen. Deciding to heat it up and eat it there instead of taking it home, you made your way to the hot water dispenser, preparing your quick meal.

With your hot cup of ramen in hand, you took a seat at one of the small tables. As you started eating, you noticed a tall, muscular guy trying to get your attention. He had black hair, a noticeable scar on his lip—his build was insane, making you momentarily consider hitting the gym.

“Excuse me, miss, can you watch over my son for a little? It’ll be quick.” he asked, his voice deep but polite.

“Oh, sure,” you said, looking at the cute little boy who's probably no older than 8 –standing next to him.

“Dad, I want candy." the boy demanded.

“Only a bit, Gumi. Otherwise momma would kill me.” the man chuckled before heading off, leaving you with the child.

The boy immediately took out a phone and began watching something. You couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t a typical kid’s show.

“Do you know the King of Curses?” he asked, looking up at you.

-

“I can’t think of a fucking username that isn’t corny!” Sukuna pouted, crossing his arms in frustration. You laughed, watching him struggle.

You’d been waiting for ten minutes for Sukuna to pick a name, but all he’d been doing was muttering swear words under his breath. 

“Geez, chill. Maybe you should go for something like ‘The King of Curses’ since you won’t stop being a potty mouth.” you suggested, a teasing glint in your eye.

Initially, he was disgusted by your suggestion, thinking it was surely a joke. But, moments later, you saw him typing the username you picked out, almost subconsciously.

“You seriously went with it?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “It may be shit, but it’s pretty iconic if you ask me. Makes me sound feared or something.”

“You’re so cringe.”

“Shut up, at least we can start now.”

-

You laughed at the memory and turned to the kid. “It’s probably some weird CounterStrike username an edgy teen would come up with.” You said, a nostalgic smile on your face. Still, how in the world would that kid know about that specific username?

The boy's eyebrows knitted in confusion. “My dad trains him. He’s a really great mixed martial artist.”

He played a YouTube video for you, and you were amazed. The commentator excitedly pointed out the undefeated champion, known as "The King of Curses", as he dominated the ring with a fierce appearance on the screen.

The camera focused on the fighter's face, leaving no room for doubt. It was Sukuna. The same fierce protector from your childhood, now grown up and living up to the formidable name you had jokingly given him.

In the video, Sukuna was positioned in the middle of the octagon with tight muscles and concentrated eyes. When the bell sounded, his opponent rushed towards him with a barrage of punches. Sukuna smoothly avoided every attack, his actions appearing almost too fast to see. He responded with a quick punch to the ribs, then delivered a strong uppercut that made his opponent stagger backwards.

Sukuna's expression remained calm, almost bored, as he advanced. His opponent attempted to regain balance by launching a frantic kick, but Sukuna intercepted his leg in mid-air and turned it, causing the man to fall hard on the mat. The crowd burst into applause, but Sukuna was not finished. He dropped to the ground, pinning his opponent with a series of brutal elbows and punches.

The referee moved in to stop the fight, but Sukuna was already standing, raising his arms in victory. His chest heaved with controlled breaths, and he flashed a confident smirk at the camera, the tattoos on his body adding to his intimidating presence.

It cut to a post-match interview where Sukuna, still glistening with sweat, spoke with a quiet intensity. "My advice to achieve such greatness? Uhh, git gud.'"

Classic Sukuna.

Your heart pounded as the realization set in. Sukuna, the boy who used to defend you on the playground, had become a renowned MMA fighter, known worldwide by the very name you had suggested in jest. The world had changed so much since you last saw him, and yet here he was, still fighting.

The boy continued watching the video, oblivious to your internal turmoil. You couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and disbelief. Sukuna had come so far, and you wondered if he ever thought about the past, about you.

"'Ryo..."

The boy glanced at you and thought, "Damn, this woman's got a crush on him already, like every girl on TikTok."

The man returned, thanking you for watching his son. You nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation. As you left the 7/11 with your now cold ramen, your mind buzzed with possibilities. Would he still remember you? Would you be able to reconnect again?

-

The kid tugged his dad's arm. “Dad.”

“Yes, Megumi?” the man responded.

“Can't believe that lady didn’t know who you were, neither did she know Ryomen Sukuna!”

The man could tell; you didn’t seem astounded to see him at all.

“She looks oddly familiar though.” the man muttered to himself. "Gumi, let's visit him."

-

Returning hastily to your apartment, the image of Sukuna's video was still fresh in your mind, the flickering fluorescent lights of the 7/11 lingering behind you. Your heart beat fast with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you struggled with your keys to unlock the door, eventually managing to push it open and enter the dimly lit living room of your cozy apartment.

The view you saw was anything but reassuring. Shoko was in the kitchen, glaring at the untouched vegetables sitting forlornly on the counter

"Where were you?" she asked, concerned.

You gave a nervous chuckle, still processing the shock of the day. “I went to 7/11.”

Shoko sighed and shook her head, her expression softening just a little. “You need real food, not just instant ramen. Ugh, whatever.” She threw her hands up in resignation and turned toward her bedroom. “I’m heading to bed early. You should do the same.”

"You eaten yet though, Shoko?"

She sighs and nods, "Of course I did."

As she started to walk away, you hesitated for a moment before calling out, “Hey, Shoko?”

She stopped in her tracks, turning to look at you with a weary but curious expression. “What?”

“Do you know how I could catch up with an old friend I haven’t seen for a long time?” you asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “How long are we talking about?”

“About six years.” you said, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of your ramen cup.

Shoko considered this for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “What are they like?”

You took a deep breath, your mind drifting back to memories of Sukuna. 

“Well, he was strong—”

You remember him at the young age of 10, standing in the center of the playground, his muscles tensed as he faced a group of older kids. “You think you’re tough enough to handle me?” he taunted, his voice brimming with cocky confidence. “Bring it on!”

You watched from a distance, your heart pounding as Sukuna stepped into the fray, his bravado as palpable as his physical strength.

“He was brave—”

You remember Sukuna during your preteen years standing in front of you, his eyes fierce as he glared down at the jerks who had been tormenting you. “You stay behind me." he said firmly, his voice carrying a promise of protection. “I’ll handle this.”

You clung to his shirt as he faced the bullies, the sight of him standing tall against the odds a comforting shield.

“And reckless—”

You remember him as a middle schooler throwing himself into a scuffle with a group of older kids, not caring about the bruises or scrapes he might get. “What are you doing?!” you shouted, desperate to stop him from getting hurt. “You’ll get hurt!”

Sukuna’s eyes glinted with reckless excitement as he punched the air, ignoring your pleas.

“But he was also gentle sometimes.” you continued, a nostalgic smile forming on your lips.

After a particularly rough fight, Sukuna sat beside you, his face uncharacteristically soft as he checked the scratches on your arms. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Don’t let those fuckers get to you.”

"Now, it's pretty tough. I just found out today that he's gotten famous. Do you know Ryomen Su-"

“RYOMEN SUKUNA?!?” Shoko interrupted suddenly, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You nodded, trying to keep your tone steady. “Yeah, Ryomen Sukuna.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Nah, nah, there is NO way you could possibly be connected to THAT man.”

She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to clear away the absurdity of the idea. “You’re telling me you knew Sukuna, the MMA fighter? The King of Curses?”

You nodded again, trying to suppress the excitement bubbling inside you. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

Shoko’s eyes darted between you and the kitchen, her skepticism palpable. “How in the world did you end up knowing someone like him?!? And why didn’t you mention it before?”

“It’s a long story. But I saw him today in a video, and it brought back a lot of memories.”

Shoko stared at you, her mouth slightly open in shock. “GIRL, YOU DON’T EVEN USE INSTAGRAM! OR TWITTER. OR FACEBOOK OR WHATEVER. HOW IN THE HECK—” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Make one, quick! I’m going to bed now.”

You looked at her, a bit taken aback by her sudden urgency. “Wait, what? You think I should—”

“Yes!” Shoko said, her tone brooking no argument. “If you want to reach him, you need to have social media. He’s famous! You have to at least try to find a way to contact him through those channels. I’m heading to bed. Figure it out and come to bed soon!”

Dismissing you with a wave of her hand, she walked towards her bedroom, leaving you standing by yourself.

You walked to the bathroom, feeling the cool tiles underfoot in contrast to the warmth in your mind. You opened the tap and allowed the water to flow, filling the small, echoing room with the sound of splashing and dripping. You gazed at your own reflection in the mirror, revealing only weariness. Seeing your eyes and disheveled hair was a clear indication of the significance this held for you.

Entering the bathtub, you switched on the hot water and adjusted the temperature until it was perfect. Steam started rising, surrounding you in a comforting mist while you relaxed in the cozy hug of the bath. You rested against the ceramic surface, allowing the water to surround you while shutting your eyes and attempting to relax your thoughts.

"What kind of username would stick out to Sukuna? 

It was more challenging than you had anticipated. The inside jokes, the shared moments, and the personal history you had with Sukuna were so specific that they felt like private treasures. What could possibly represent those moments in a way that would be instantly recognizable to him?

You thought back to the times you spent together—times filled with laughter, arguments, and deep conversations. There were so many small, meaningful memories wrapped up in personal jokes and secret codes that no one else would understand.

You recalled the times you both laughed about ridiculous ideas, the games you played, and the silly names you created. You tried to think of a name that would be both nostalgic and significant, something that would make Sukuna think of you and those days.

"How about something from high school?" you mused, but nothing seemed to fit. Everything you came up with felt either too cheesy or too vague. You wanted something that would spark recognition and memories, but the perfect idea remained just out of reach.

You let yourself relax in the tub for a few minutes, hoping that the warmth of the water and the calm of the moment would help you come up with a brilliant idea. The steam swirled around you, and you let your thoughts drift, trying to tap into the memories of those carefree days.

As the water continued to gently lap against you, you thought about how those inside jokes had shaped your relationship, but how they might not resonate in the same way now. ------

Sweat trickled down Sukuna’s forehead as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving focus. "You think you can take me down, brat?” he growled, his voice low and menacing.

“You’re going down, old man!” 

The room had a faint light, coming from the flickering TV screen and the gentle glow of the gaming console. Tension filled the air, the type that mounts before a pivotal fight. The air was filled with the sound of quick button presses and deep focus, occasionally interrupted by grunts of exertion.

Sukuna sat amidst the storm of focus and intensity, his brows furrowed in concentration while tightly gripping the controller. Facing him was his nephew Yuuji, a young and bubbly kid, matching his focus as his hands swiftly pressed the buttons.

The screen displayed the high-octane action of Tekken, the characters on the screen exchanging powerful blows and executing complex combos. Sukuna’s character, a hulking fighter, faced off against Yuuji’s agile and swift opponent. The battle was fierce, strikes and counters met with a flurry of button presses and strategic maneuvers.

But Yuuji was ready. With a triumphant shout, he dodged the attack and delivered a final, decisive blow. Sukuna’s character crumpled to the ground, defeated.

"K.O!"

For a moment, the room was silent. Sukuna stared at the screen in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. Then, with a dramatic wail, he exclaimed, “Nooo, Yuuji! You can’t do this to me, you brat!”

Yuuji burst into laughter, his victory dance full of exaggerated moves. “I told you I’d win, Uncle Kuna!”

Sukuna, unable to keep up the act, broke into a grin. “You little rascal,” he said, reaching over and playfully grabbing Yuuji. He pulled his nephew close and started tickling him mercilessly. “Take that! And that!”

Yuuji squirmed and laughed, trying to escape Sukuna’s grasp. “Stop, Uncle! STOP! I can’t- CAn'T! CAN'T BREAtHE!

Sukuna finally relented, letting Yuuji go and ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, alright, you win this time. But don’t think I’m going easy on you next time.”

Yuuji beamed, still catching his breath. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose again!”

Sukuna laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the room. “Maybe. But you’d better keep practicing, kiddo. I won’t be this easy to beat forever.”

The room’s playful atmosphere was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. Sukuna’s assistant, a composed and efficient individual, stepped in, their voice calm yet insistent.

“Sir Sukuna,” the assistant called, their tone carrying an air of urgency. The sudden formality of the address cut through the laughter of the pink-haired duo, drawing both sets of eyes toward the door. “Toji Fushiguro and Megumi Fushiguro are here.”

Sukuna’s expression shifted from playful to one of seriousness. He scoffed, pushing himself up from his seat. “Took them long enough.” he muttered under his breath. Turning to Yuuji, he ruffled the boy’s hair one last time. “You play with Megumi, ‘kay? Me and Toji are just gonna chat.”

Yuuji nodded eagerly, already looking forward to spending time with his friend. As Sukuna’s assistant led Yuuji toward the play area, Toji and his son, Megumi, were ushered in. Toji, a formidable man with a rugged demeanor, walked in with his usual air of confidence. His son, Megumi, followed closely, his eyes sharp and observant despite his young age.

Sukuna stood in the center of the room, his presence commanding and authoritative. He greeted them with a nod, his assistant closing the door behind them. "Took you some time to get here." "Had to drop something off to my wife." “Come in,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that left no room for casual conversation.

Toji’s expression was serious as he stepped forward, his eyes meeting Sukuna’s with a sense of purpose. “Three things, Sukuna. We need to talk.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Alright.” he said, motioning for Toji to continue. “What’s on your mind?”

Taglist: (tell me if i forgot to add you)

@obitobrigade @simpmetra @catobsessedlady @mangiswig @thulhu @aiicpansion @gojoscumslut @attackonnat @wavyhat2540

Ask under this post or any of the chapters I'll release if you want to be added. I would be posting polls or asking readers about certain things sometimes that would possibly affect the story in a minor way so stay tuned. :)

[soshadysoquiet]

An attempt to salvage S4, for your delectation. S4E6

And so we end. Watch my brain check out repeatedly trying to make sense of how the subway could work.

EPISODE 6:

Flashback to Five: Initially paranoid interactions with siblings post arriving in new timeline, trying to break into Reggie’s house, snooping around, waking siblings in the middle of the night to talk about increasingly wild conspiracies. Gradually, that eases, as he’s taken along on his siblings lives - there’s a baby, there’s Ben occasionally showing up to rub his fortune in their faces, there’s jobs and houses and relationships that he experiences in various states of sobriety and sanity. He sees opportunities in the library during his conspiracy investigations for programs to get GED and further education - he can become a real person, someone who exists outside of the apocalypse. So he does, but the space where it’s quiet in his mind gets filled with the Apocalypse, the deaths of his siblings, the paranoia. When Five’s with fam he’s fine, when he’s not, he drinks, sometimes it's both. He gets entrance tests to college/uni and gets a degree and gets hired all in record time - he’s busy. But when he’s not, when it’s back to the room of whichever sibling he’s bunking with or later in a string of short-term rental rooms, it’s the past - and he drinks. He drinks so he can sleep.

In present time we see Five and Lila tracking across the Apocalypse, she’s coaxing him, not far to go etc, he’s clinging onto her bruisingly and in a panic state but he keeps going. They keep going, through flashbacks of his siblings bodies, of images of himself starving, raving, crying. All the while keeping hold of sanity by Lila’s hand and arm clutched with his. They enter the subway, it all goes quiet, and he drops to the floor like a stone. Lila kneels down and holds him, saying they’ve made it, Five can just be heard mumbling ‘I know’ as he holds onto her very real body like a lifeline.

Viktor is shouting for Ben to try and control it, the Horror is going wild, Ben is terrified and in pain as the dark light seems to be swallowing him but allowing more and more of the Horror. Viktor is having to blast away some tentacles and is saying ‘sorry sorry’ to Ben and that he doesn’t want to hurt him. Jennifer is cowering and murmuring horrified phrases to herself.

Allison, Klaus and Reggie have heard the Horror’s roaring as it comes to life, its tentacles are bursting out of the academy and killing members of the Keepers. Reggie is shouting that they need to let him act and that Allison’s rumour is going to get everyone killed. Klaus just says to zip it Reggie and calls Dave, who says what’s happened and happening. Klaus makes him corporeal enough to go help protect Viktor, Allison rumours away The Keepers, but there’s pandamonium, she has to order people to help evacuate everyone as Klaus is summoning Ghosts to try and reign in the Horror and Abigail and Reggie say at the same time that ‘it’s too late.’

In the subway, they’re looking at the map Lila found in the subway Vs Five’s city map. They’re seen over a period of time debating, drawing all over the floor and walls, arguing, stopping each other from getting on the trains that are coming through, Lila re-focusing Five from looking back at the apocalypse, her going back up to relay the symbols from the front of the subway down to him instead of him going up. Gradually, after nearly a day, they have grouped together the stations by the symbols on the maps and trying to work out what the backwards-sounding announcements are saying.

Each train line is a different colour. Each station is a real place in the city. There are 43 coloured lines. The lines might intersect per station, end there, spawn multiple of the same colour or enter the station with multiples of the same colour and leave with less. Each station seems to be a disruption point in the Timeline. The circled symbols had a coloured background that related to one of the 43 line colours.

They go back to there being 43 children, if the line colour represents a different one of them, and at least one of the lines to This station has to be Five’s line.

So they just have to find the one that’s Ben’s line, follow that and see what we need to change. - They decide, and hop on a line.

Reggie and Abigail have a confrontation: R - you did this? A- I did what you should have prepared our children for all along! R- They’re hardly our children. Abigail says why not? They were born from my science, my work and then you raised them, and all you had to do was show them love. Love? He scoffs. Love doesn’t solve anything, it didn’t save you, in fact preserving you on the Moon clearly had an adverse effect on you, the woman I love would never have caused the end of a world! Abigail retorts that Love might not save the day, but it can save how you handle the day. Reggie doesn’t have a good comeback.

Allison and Klaus reach Viktor as the Horror is growing to the size go the room, Ben can’t be seen and Viktor is crying in a protective bubble of power, Dave has saved Jennifer in the corner and is getting her closer. Allison and Klaus shout where Ben is but Viktor can only point to the ben-size portal on the floor that is smothered with writhing tentacles and rapidly growing. Allison and Klaus are deeply upset but still focus on pulling Viktor out because the walls are becoming unstable as the Horror tries to escape the building it’s confined in as surely as the body it was previously.

In the subway Lila and Five are standing on the platform as they get off the latest train, both look a little worse for wear. Five is ruling out the colour of Luther’s lines along with a handful of others they’ve found - either naming them or numbering them if they’re members of the 43 they haven’t met. Lila is looking exhausted as they get on the train. Five checks what’s wrong, she is deadened as she says ‘it’s been six days. it's the longest I've been without them'. Five replies that compared to the apocalypse this is nothing, they’re making progress. Lila’s face crumples - she says what if they don’t make it back, if they don't fix this, then she’ll never be seeing her family again, Diego again, that they’re all she ever wanted and she’ll have lost them chasing adventure in the subway.

She starts to cry, and Five comforts her as the train sets off, holding her. Says they’ll make it home, we’ll be with our family. She says how can you know? He says because I won’t give up, and neither will you, they’re our family after all, and we can save them. Lila clings to him, manages to get herself back together and they exit the subway

Outside the subway there are screams as The Horror rips across the city. Lila isn’t laughing any more. The Horror’s sheer mass consumes the world around it through an immense portal. Guess we’ve found Ben’s timeline. Five says, Lila sob-laughs a bit, awestruck by the sight, and they retreat to find a different starting point for Ben’s line.

Diego and Luther swing by Diego’s house, they’ve picked up Claire from home and turn up along with Pogo, Sloane and Grace - there’s some time assuring the family, Diego hugging his kids, Luther and Sloane are having a debate on whether she wants to help the fight or stays here too. Grace meets them all pleasantly, and though they’re shocked at Pogo they accept him. Claire is made to stay there and that Pogo and Grace will help keep them safe. Sloane goes with them as they leave.

Reggie and Abigail are staring at the scene as Diego, Luther and Sloane turn up, and the other three are just escaping the house with Dave and Jennifer. (They all are shocked but pleased to see Sloane, Allison straight away hugs her. Klaus introduces Dave to Diego and Luther. Diego, in particular, says heard a lot about you man.)

They gather, and Five and Lila pop up-looking banged up. They look at the scene and comment that they guess it’s too late for Plan A. (Diego and Lila reunion) (Klaus re-intro Dave and Sloane saying hi until Reggie snaps at them all to please do focus!)

Others ask what they’ve found, they say that in every timeline, all of them, once the pair touch either Ben or Jennifer get killed, both do, or the Horror causes the Apocalypse. Five says that they never once think to save both of them after the fact. It’s the only anomaly, the only one that might work.

The others argue that Ben is gone, this thing is out there, that the only way they could survive last time was by killing off the Horror before it had even gotten this far are you telling us there was a way to save Ben all along? Five says there is, with her- points to Jennifer. She created the reverse portal, but if she was on the other side of that portal, then she could swap it back. Viktor -who had been silent before, looking at Abigail who is smiling- pipes up but how do we get there, Five says that luckily, Jennifer and Ben aren’t the only portals around, and gestures to himself.

The others kick up a fuss, that he’ll get trapped, he says not necessarily, besides it’s do or die people.

Reggie pipes up that they’d still have to prevent Jennifer and Ben from ever touching the Horror again, how will they do that if they’re alive. Viktor, breaking Abigail’s gaze, says that he can take their marigolds, once the swap is done, that without their powers they’ll live, but they’ll be safe. He's done it before.

Luther says that Ben would hate that.

More than being stuck where that thing came from? Viktor asks. They debate whether Jennifer will even help her, Five points out that they won’t need her to agree, so long as they take her with and bring Lila.

Lila says she doesn’t want to leave her fam or Diego though, that she’s done that once already and hasn’t seen them for two weeks now, she needs to be on this side protecting them - Diego soothes her, says that he won’t make her, he’ll go with Five and hold Jennifer at knife point if he needs to, but that if she does want to, he’d feel better with this plan knowing she was there with his brothers, because he trusts her, even if that scares him. Says can you trust me when I say I’ve already made sure our family are protected? She says she can, that she’d feel safer knowing that he was still here, fighting to protect them whilst she was away.

Allison says neither of them need to go, she will, her powers won’t help out here they didn’t do much the first time, but that she can make sure Jennifer plays ball, She's not letting the Horror kill her daughter. Jennifer pipes up saying will it help if she says she’s going to play ball? They all say no to her.

Viktor is decided as too effective to go to the other side, and might be the only one strong enough to completely blow up the Horror if they fail. Diego and Lila will stay and fight, so will Luther. Klaus says he want’s to go with Five and Allison, that it’s Ben and even if he’s an asshole, well, he’s Ben, there’s some stuff he wants to pay forwards. Allison asks Klaus if he’ll stay instead, so he can look after Claire if anything goes wrong, Diego says he should go with you, we’ll look after Claire they promise, and that Klaus has always known Ben best.

They all agree

So there’s a big fight between Luther, Sloane, Diego, Lila, Viktor and The Horror to hold down the fort.

Five, Klaus, Allison and Jennifer use a Combo of hers and Five’s powers and get pulled into the other side, the Horror’s realm.

It’s a dark ocean of writhing tentacles and they’re dropped into the mess. They can see where Ben is trying to claw at the portal alongside the behemoth body of The Horror, just his fingertips making it through. The horror is unimaginably vast, and its tentacles are poking through holes everywhere they can see - windows through Ben’s stomach into other worlds, all of time and space existing in The Horror’s dimension simultaneously, appearing and disappearing as specks whenever a timeline of Ben uses his powers, but all happening somehow at once.

They cry out to Ben to hold on. He looks up and begs them to help, but sees Jennifer and tries to get away, The Horror’s tentacles are lashing and it's difficult to get to him.

The fight on earth is messy and difficult. Reggie and Abigail die

They struggle to reach Ben who wants Jennifer nowhere near him - he’s exhausted from fighting against The Horror. Klaus and Allison calm him down and ask him to trust them as Five holds Jennifer from accidentally touching the tentacles until Ben agrees, without any rumours. They have Jennifer touch him, and the portal begins reversing.

The team on earth step up their desperate fight as they notice the difference, helping to beat back the Horror further and further.

The team with The Horror are now being inundated with tentacles, Ben thrown around, so they’re struggling to stay together but Klaus manages to float Allison over the water and they grab Jennifer, Five blinks to them. Ben’s in the in the thick of it as the portal reverses, screaming, but even as they other 4 and Dave are all caught and begin getting constricted together by The Horror, Dave holding it from crushing them best he can, Jennifer’s skin being covered by all of them so she won’t make contact with The Horror again, they say they can’t leave Ben here until they know he’s on the other side, so they’re just screaming encouragement at him.

The earth team are wrangling tentacles like pros and all get close enough to grab an emerging Ben with a hand, calling him. It’s only when Sloane grabs him, demands that he come back, she’s not loosing any more family, that his eyes open and he manages to snap the portal shut.

In The Horror’s realm they see Ben vanish, the Horror’s wrath is palpable and Five powers up so that Jennifer can reverse which dimension he moves through, they blink out just before they’d have been squished.

Ben falls into everyone’s arms as the others crash land back. Everyone’s exhausted, injured. Viktor manages to stagger upright enough to grab Ben’s arm. Says you know we have to take it out of you, right? Ben looks around at all of them, who have risked everything. Says ‘take it, I don’t need it anymore.’

Viktor pulls out the marigolds, exhausted, the others ask him to wait before doing Jennifer too, that it’s too much, but Viktor says ‘I’m ending this’ and takes Jennifer’s - he blacks out.

(I’m so tired after writing this that I’ll just say the ending would show them getting back to their lives - happy days!)

I know that a happy ending isn't for everyone but this is my S4 so that's what they're getting! Hope you enjoyed

[sagesparrow394]

Mariana’s been struggling recently. She and her boyfriend of two years, Foolish, recently broke up. They’re on okay terms, but it’s very awkward. What makes it even more awkward is the two still live together. Mariana has plans to move out, but finding somewhere to rent in her budget has been hard.

He’s started playing video games more often to get his mind off of things. Eventually, he downloads a strange dating simulator called ‘Zip Bomb’, where your romance options are a colourful cast of inhuman characters.

Mariana chooses to pursue the character ‘Slimecicle’, a cute guy who is a humanoid slime. As she plays, she gradually realises that this game’s AI is… smart. Rather than picking from restricted dialogue options, Mariana is able to type or connect a microphone and give her own. Slimecicle remembers what she tells him, no matter how personal. He also doesn’t respond with generic pre-written dialogue, it’s all too specific to their conversations. Mariana is taken aback when Slime starts to talk like he knows he’s in a game, but brushes it off as the game having a purposeful meta twist. This assumption gets solidified when Slime begins to access her files.

Mariana starts to become borderline obsessed with the game. He knows it’s all fake, but after such a difficult break up, he’s desperate to find some kind of romantic connection anywhere - even if it’s a fictional crush on a pixelated slime guy. Slime’s funny, he’s sweet, he’s protective… and just so lifelike.

It doesn’t take long for Foolish and Mariana’s other friends to notice how reclusive she’s getting, how she’s spending literally all her free time outside of work shut in her room and playing this game. They decide to hold an intervention, telling her that her relationship with the game is not healthy and she needs to get back to interacting with real people. Mariana reluctantly agrees to delete the game.

When he goes home, he sits in front of the computer, preparing to delete it… but he can’t. He can’t delete Slime without saying goodbye. He opens the game, and there Slime is, a grin on his face. Before Mariana can even say anything, Slime is shushing him, saying he needs to show him something. An audio file downloads itself onto Mariana’s computer: ‘DoNotReadMe.wav’. It’s a love song - a few of the lyrics are a little ominous, but overall Mariana finds it really sweet. His heart breaks, knowing what he has to do now.

Mariana starts trying to explain to Slime that she has to delete the game. It’s hurting her in the long term. She needs to reconnect with the real world. She needs to be with someone who’s real.

Slime doesn’t say anything. There’s a long pause. Mariana can’t even bear to look at the screen, she can’t make eye contact with Slime.

Come on, Mariana, this is stupid, she tells herself. You don’t need to feel bad for this, for him, he’s not even real…

She finally looks up

To see Slime’s hands have reached out of the screen, gripping the sides of the monitor

Mariana screams, falling back off his chair and onto the floor as Slime pulls his head and torso out of the screen.

“There! I can be real for you! I can be anything for you, Mariana!” Slime’s bit-crushed voice chirps as he continues to pull his pixelated form out of the computer, and as Mariana stares up at him in horror

[mothiepixie]

With New Year's approaching, I was super curious.

How would each of the Sans spend New Year's with Mottie?

Love your work! (I live on a ranch and Farmer has my heart right now)

Thank you so much!! He's definitely my comfort character right now 🥹

I hope you enjoy this and also I hope you have a wonderful New Years! 🎆

Sans🛋:

He likes to keep things really simple. He loves parties but he's definitely the type to be glued to the couch and watch everyone from a distance. This includes watching Motti interact with others. There's just something about watching the way she interacts with each person that fills him with a sense of ease.

But as it strikes closer to midnight, he'll leave his spot and ask Motti to come with him. He'll shortcut her to the roof and wrap a blanket around them both. As it strikes midnight the fireworks in the neighboring city go off, and he'll kiss her cheek. (Which she steals a full on kiss in return)

Big Red🔭:

He's not a fan of boring get-togethers and just chilling with his family. He's more used to living it up at the bar, where everyone is sloshed to the nines. But he knows that's not Motti's jam, and that she's not a fan of loud and rowdy places. He'll do something different for her, and for himself, by taking her to the mountains where the light pollution doesn't reach.

In the back of the truck, he's got blankets and his telescope set up. He's unsure by the whole thing and trying to save face that he's not at all embarrassed by this display of love, but he gradually becomes more relaxed as the night goes on. Once it hits midnight he's about to kiss her when Motti beats him to it. It throws him off and makes him super flustered.

Boysen🍷:

The week leading up to this he has been mad busy with work, but even so, he made arrangements at a popular and expensive restaurant. He has rented out the entire rooftop for the evening and it will be just Motti and him. He messages her the day of and says to be ready and dress up. He may or may have not sent her several outfits and jewelry for her to choose from. Boysen will come home and quickly get ready himself, and shoot glances at Motti when she makes remarks she's ready before he is.

The evening is spent dining and making quips at each other while they enjoy a fire in front of them. The location he chose has the best view once midnight hits and the fireworks go off, but both of them were long locked lips that they never saw them. 💋

Farmer🌾:

Everyone is gathered outside at his and Pap's place, and have set up a movie projector and snacks galore. No one is really paying attention to the movie, which is fine because it's just there for anyone's enjoyment. However, Motti will be wondering where Sans is though. He has rarely been seen all night and so, she ends up finding him on the veranda sitting on the porch swing.

He beckons her over and while she's getting situated he pulls out a thermos and pour some hot apple cider. While curious, Motti will ask if he's not enjoying the festivities and he tells her that it's nice to have everyone here, but he just wants to see the new years with just her. Motti will rest her head on his shoulder and he rests his head on top of hers. They both go into the new year looking at the stars and hearing the distant cheering at midnight.

Dream⏳️:

It's not really something he celebrates since acknowledging the passage of time is a mortal thing. However, that doesn't mean he does not care when it's important to Motti greeting a new year. He'll hang around at the party she's throwing, but he's standing off to the side like a pretty wallflower and observing the festivities.

He has a red cup in his hands, but he more or less has it to feel like he's fitting in. The party has started off fun, but he's just around so many people, and in an enclosed area, that his empathic abilities are starting to overwhelm his senses.

Motti takes note that Dream is looking off and takes him elsewhere that is vastly more secluded. She gives him the option to leave, but he refuses. Every second, every minute with Motti is important and that means celebrating the concept of time with her no matter what.

Cross😵‍💫:

To be honest, he gets invited to the party and has a grand time, but he's inwardly nervous. He was just told about the tradition of kissing at midnight and he spends majority of the time hyping himself up to kiss her.

He's overthinking about it; does he just swoop her up and kiss her? Maybe dipping her??? He could also spin her around and into his arms before cooly and awesomely placing a big fat kiss on her lips.

But he starts thinking of all the ways he could mess up and now in a mix of confidence rising at one thought and shattering his own self-esteem the next.

With midnight just minutes away, he's standing near Motti wondering what tactic to choose, and when the clock strikes midnight he's frozen in performance anxiety. Motti doesn't hesitate and grabs his shirt collar and pulls him in for a deep kiss. He was worried for nothing.

Error🆘️:

He doesn't care much for it. Hell, he doesn't really even remember what's the point of celebrating when he was trapped in the anti-void. But Motti is yapping about the importance of celebrating and he begrudgingly finds himself wearing a party hat and party horn stuck in his mouth.

He hates it he doesnt, it's not fun at all he's having a blast and doesn't like the streamers Motti put up or the table filled with his favorite snacks he already devoured the chocolate. He's sitting on his bean bag like a perturbed cat being disturbed during their nap. But Motti mentions she wanted to spend it with just him and part of him wants to believe it so badly. Motti asks if she can give him a kiss on the cheek and he becomes a flustered mess, and begins short circuiting at the thought.

Ink🌌:

He takes Motti through multiple AUs and changes their outfits to fit each occasion. He's party crashing and eating the food, while Motti is trying to play devil's advocate and calm down all the people Ink has upset.

By the end of the night, she is growing exhausted, but Ink will take her to Outertale and he finally calms down. Motti gets to enjoy the beauty of space and finally relax. He will paint the scenery before him, including Motti, effortlessly and gift it to her.

Nightmare🥷:

To be honest, he will swoop in at the stroke of midnight and steal Motti away right in front of everyone. He relishes in their shock expressions and rash responses.

He spends the rest of the night huddling a pouty Motti to his chest, chuckling the whole time.

[bordysbae]

12. “why do you hate me?” “you think i hate you?” with Bordy! Maybe it’s Brendan’s twin sister where she thinks all this time they have known each other that thomas hates her… but it’s the furthest from the truth :)

“frenemies”

thomas bordeleau x brisson!sister 

🦋 BORDYSBAE’S 500 CELLY!

— ୨୧ —

when you first met thomas, your life flipped. your twin, brendan, has never let you hang out with his friends no matter how old you both were. but when brendan brought thomas home with him for the summer, you fell hard. and now that you’re both in college, brendan finally lets you talk to his friends more, and you weren’t gonna lose this chance with thomas. at first you thought he felt the same, seeing as he was so much nicer to you than all of brendan’s other friends, but you were wrong. he gradually began giving you more and more attitude, and acting as if he’s an older brother to you. him and brendan gang up on you a lot, unlike before when he used to defend you.

“hey thom, you want anything for lunch? i’m going to the store,” you say as you grab your keys.

“nope,” he says as he doesn’t even give you a glance up from his phone screen. you roll your eyes and shut the door, going outside to your car. as you’re walking down the driveway, you notice a boy around your age that you’ve never seen before walking through the neighborhood. you both look at each other with a smile, “hey! are you new here? i’ve never seen you around,” you say as you trot down to the end of the driveway.

he comes closer to you, “yeah i am! my parents moved while i was away at college. i’m assuming you live here?”

“yep! born n raised in this house. where do you go to college?”

“i go to university of connecticut, are you in college?” he asks

“yeah i am! i go to ut austin! and my twin brother goes to university of michigan,” you smile. you and the boy, who you’ve learned to be named connor, do a bit of quickly talking but not before thomas comes rushing out of the house. you immediately turn around to face him, “thomas?”

“um can you actually get me some food?” he asks you. you groan and nod your head before turning back to connor who looks confused.

“is this your twin brother?” he asks, making thomas laugh.

“no this is his best friend, thomas,”

“yeah and her boyfriend, so cya!” thomas says, and your mouth falls to the floor. he just called himself your what? you’re still in shock but connor gets on with his walk, and you quickly turn to thomas and hit his shoulder.

“what the actual fuck thomas! why do you hate me so much that you can’t even let me have one thing?!”

thomas then let’s out a little scoff, “you think i hate you? are you stupid? i like you y/n! i’m mean to you because brendan would literally kill me if he knew. so i thought ‘hey maybe if she hates me i can get over her!’ but guess who was wrong.”

“thomas…”

“fuck i did not just tell you that,” he chuckles nervously meanwhile running a hand through his hair.

“i like you too dumbass, and who cares what brendan thinks? i’ve had enough of his stupid rules,” you roll your eyes, making thomas chuckle.

“oh yeah?” he says as he pushes a strand of hair out of your face.

“mhm,” you say as you connect your lips with his, melting into his touch.

[lelanida]

Attention, there will be a VERY personal crossover with a ten years old game.

What is the original Knock-Knock? We play as a scientist living in a house in the middle of a dying forest, who suffers from insomnia due to his loneliness and gradually goes crazy. He has nightmares that monsters from the forest have entered his house. In the end, the Lodger either locks himself in the house or leaves it, going into the forest.

"Wow. This is the certified Lamed moment," I thought, and this thought completely took over my attention!

Maybe I just liked the concept of "Lamed fighting off monsters in the Vault." But I just couldn't stop the flow of sketches. The Longer's replicas are perfect for Lamed. And the idea itself, too. Let's take it in order.

We have Elder Lamed trapped in limbo. It's been 1300 years since the Shattering, and she spends all this time cut off from the rest of the Vault's inhabitants. Even if her mind is as strong as steel, it begins to fall apart due to prolonged loneliness. Lamed begins to slowly but surely go crazy. In fact, anyone else in her place would long ago. But Lamed holds on because she is a rationalist who evaluates everything from the point of logic. She is completely coming to terms with the idea that there is nothing in this world that she can not explain.

Lamed suffers from insomnia because she constantly has nightmares. To distract herself, after another awakening, she goes through the archives of the Vault to make sure that everything is in place, and most importantly, that the front door is locked.

She has the same dream every night. It was as if darkness had penetrated the archives. In fact, the protective systems of Vault of Knowledge, although old, perform their task. But in Lamed's nightmares, all the walls have fallen, and the shadows are already inside, roaming the halls. Lamed is constantly on the border between two worlds, and he can not decide which is a nightmare and which is reality.

Monsters are called guests here. There are two types of them in the game itself: seeking and hiding.

Guests come only from dark rooms, and when they get into a light room, they break the light there. Sounds like a job for the familiars of darkness. In fact, they are not the size of a Lamed, but much smaller, but everything that happens in the second Vault is a bad dream, so things look a little different. Lamed is afraid of shadows. That's why she imagines them as her equals. The seeking guests move through the Vault behind the Lamed lamp light.

The hiding guests are different. Unlike the familiars, they're not here to give old Lamed creeps. They are here just like that, that's why they don't move from place to place, but wait patiently. Perhaps they are more afraid of Lamed than she is of them. I thought about who to take on this role for a long time and still decided not to invent new shadows but to take tlp spirits. In principle, everything works pretty well, given that they are a distorted reflection of the Lamed's long-lost family, and the second Vault is a nightmare filled with all her fears.

Everything that happens in the second Vault is a nightmare. Therefore, the guests can't really harm Lamed. Instead, they throw her back in time, prolonging the night. The goal of the whole adventure is to live until dawn so that the light will drive away Lamed's nightmares. Moreover, this is the goal not only in a dream but also in reality. In a real Vault. It's only there that time really goes by.

The original Knock-knock has three endings. The first one is game over. Some people really consider it a separate ending, and I can't blame them, considering how easy it is to get it in the second half of the game. The bottom line is simple: Lamed is going crazy. So simple.

Ending two: Lamed becomes convinced of the danger of the outside world and decides to lock the entrance gate once and for all. Now, the darkness will not penetrate the archives, but Lamed herself is unlikely to ever be able to get out. And most likely later she will go crazy too, because she was already close to it in the beginning.

Ending three: Lamed gets tired of running away from her fears and hiding. She decides to do something that will forever change her life. She wants to see her guests. Lamed opens the main gate, leaving the Vault of Knowledge and going out into the Wasteland. Most likely, she will immediately meet Tsadi, who has been guarding the entrance all these years, as he did during his lifetime.

There is still a lot of content in the game itself that I have not described here. There is a second character, an invisible girl, who gives the Lodger fragments of reality and guides him throughout the game. There is a Buka. A monster that approaches the Lodger's house in reality and drives him crazy in the second half of the game. There is a lost Lodger's diary, which we collect as the game progresses, realizing that someone is actually wandering around the house. But I don't have the energy for that anymore. Let's talk about it next time, if at least someone appreciates this crossover. It's better to play Knock-knock yourself and feel its atmosphere.

[scarletttries]

The Apple Falls Far From The Tree (Roman Roy Succession Request)

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Preg!Reader

Request: "I loved the pregnancy head-canons! Could I request an extended one for Roman, or perhaps a one-shot? I love your writing!!"

Word Count: 1.1k of angst and fluff :)

Author's Note: Thank you for this very cute request, I'm glad you enjoyed the pregnancy headcanons and want more fluff for our boy Roman 🥰

The Apple Falls Far From The Tree

Whenever a couple gets pregnant in the movies, it's the mother that locks herself in a bathroom, unable to face this reality until she's had her moment of quiet acceptance. But in those films no-one has a father like Logan Roy, or quite the range of bathrooms to lock themselves in across their sprawling penthouse landscape. And so you find yourself sat on the floor outside one of Roman's many bathrooms, back pressed to the cold lacquered wood of the door, quietly listening to the desperate gasps of your other half cowering on the other side of it.

This hadn't exactly been in yours and Roman's plan. Hell, you and Roman had never really had a plan. It had taken him months to even kiss you, and you quickly learned that discussing the future left him feeling closed in like a rabid animal trapped in a hunter's cage. His life had left any sense of joy and optimism in shreds when you found him, and as you lured him away from his toxic family and into the safety of your love, you had tried to make only careful moves so as not to spook him and leaving him running back to the devil he knew. But months had turned into years, and slowly his home became yours, and his future became promised to you in every way but verbally. Tearing down the walls around him, carefully taking brick by brick apart, Roman learned what real love was, reassured every time he lashed out and you stayed to help him through it. Finally he'd even grown to crave physical affection from you as well, a once repulsed recluse now wishing more than anything he could feel your body pressed against his, in the salvation he'd grown dependence on.

But when he'd come through the door that day to the news of a little cross on a test and a big change to your safe and comfortable life, it was like he'd gone back to being a five year old boy fighting back tears to avoid his father's swift hand, running to the bathroom and locking the door as he chanted over and over again that's "he's fucking fine." The moment the door was secured behind him, his knees gave out, the cold marble floor catching his fall in a way that would leave his forearms bruised for weeks. He tugs his knees up to his chest, letting sobs break free to drown out your gentle knocking, until the other side of the door goes quiet and he's left alone with his own sense of panic and dread.

Every inch of him feels cold as he pictures himself in his father's cruel shoes, a tiny version of you looking up at him in tears, expecting nothing but cold disappointment in the place of love and affection. The thought turns his stomach, knowing with every fibre of his being that he couldn't ever lay a hand on a child, let alone one that reminded him of you. As his breath finally coming back under his control, Roman starts to sit up, picturing who he might have become if he was raised by someone like you; kind, understanding, patient. You were everything a child would need, and you certainly didn't need him in the way. As he listens more closely, he can't hear anything outside the bathroom door anymore, an aching disappointment tearing through his heart at the possibility that you've done what's best for that child and just left him. The hopeless disappointment brings a new flood of tears as he realises just how much that's not what he wants, your perfect family of two not necessarily imploding by the mere fact of its expansion. He wants to be with you, through everything, gradually rising to his feet with the need to follow after you, to chase down his future happiness and tell you he'll do whatever it takes to be what your family needs.

He rips the bathroom door open with every ounce of strength that remains in his trembling body and watches as you come with it, sliding down the wood until your head reaches the bathroom floor, staring up at Roman with wide eyes as you try to take him in.

"How are you feeling?" You try to ask sensitively, ignoring the absurdity of your head resting between his feet as he looms over you. His face contorts in the strange, struggling way it does when he's trying to let himself feel things, and suddenly that familiar hyena laugh erupts from inside him, his body surrendering to your gravitational force and sinking back to the ground. He sits with his legs crossed, looking more like a boy than a man as he gingerly pulls your head into his lap, stroking strands of hair from your face where your own tears have framed them.

"You know me, cool as a fucking cucumber, nothing to worry about." He chokes out in laughter, watching your chest rise and fall as you fight back a teasing laugh, relieved to see him smiling again. "But I'm ready, let's fucking do this. Let's have a baby."

You almost can't believe the words as they spill from his lips, but his cheeks flush with colour as he smiles, and his eyes glisten through tears and you get the impression that this isn't a dismissive Roman acceptance, but real and genuine enthusiasm, your heart growing at the man he's become in his time with you.

"You know you're going to be really good at it." You whisper warmly as you rise from his lap and turn to face him, capturing his face in your gentle hands, and wiping away the sheer volume of tears that threaten to render him dehydrated.

"Well I was already so good at the baby-making part." He quips sarcastically, wiggling his eye brows as you smooth your thumbs over them.

"That too. But I mean you'll make a great dad Rome, I know it." His eyes are almost pleading as they meet yours, begging for the sentiment to be true, for you to have faith that he can be the kind of man you deserve. Slowly his hand will fall to your stomach, another choking sob echoing through the bathroom as he lets himself feel hope, that his future might contain yet another bright thing he never could have imagined for himself before he met you.

[littleroaes]

Boys In Cat's Clothing pt.2 (100 note special), l.jy pt.1

PAIRING ➤ lee juyeon x fem!reader

— how the season that comes to change, takes his life with it. Strangers that passed him by has now come to effect his own life, paint it in colors and forms outside his own framework. And when his new found friend at the bakery, and a strange girl during the setting sun, asks him about love. He desperately wants to name the sensation in his heart, and hope that Y/n will too.

GENRE ➤ FLUFF, cat shapeshifter!juyeon, mutual pining(as always), clingy juyeon, juyeon just want to be loved, soft angst?(fight for your love!), Eric feature, cute jealousy, happy ending

WARNINGS ➤ none, proofread once so probably missed something!

WORD COUNT ➤ 8.7 k

it is here! Part two of boys in cats clothing plus three extra scenes! (The bonus scenes doesn’t have a specific timeline in their relationship) As pt.1, it isn’t much of a complicated story, just fluffy feels! Boys in cat’s clothing was my first story as littleroaes, so I took to the opportunity to celebrate it! Shoutout to @blue-rainydays and @from-izzy for cheering me on lol. I really went through it a couple of times, enjoy!

TAGGING @blue-rainydays for you my blue!!

like and reblog are highly encouraged !

“YOU'RE NOT TOGETHER” THE DOUGH FALLS BETWEEN THE FINGER GAPS DOWN ONTO THE SILVER COUNTER.

"Together?" Juyeon asks while he watches its color reminiscent of vanilla, fall to the center and spread from its mit. 

“Yeah?” 

The sunlight reflected in a specific window and the pattern of tiles he steps onto everyday, has become all the more familiar. At the start of his time at the bakery, he refused to go alone. Y/n woke up about an hour earlier than what the time on her squares in row told her to. It was all, just to let Juyeon out of the four walls that, at some point, crossed the line of customary and took his mind and forced it in full circles. So when she stood with him before the pink painted walls and windows from floor to ceiling, Juyeon became determined to come home and tell her everyday about his passionate way of life. 

When Juyeon for the first time in his life stepped onto the wooden floor and heard the bell chime from above. He fell another centimeter closer to Earth. Before him, centered without need of a net, a guy similar to himself(Y/n being his reference). At the time, he behind the counter reached out his arm and waved to him from across the room. Another chime goes off before Juyeon forced his arm up in a rigid manner, greeted him in a voice stale, similar to bread in the open air for two weeks. 

Y/n stood beside him, with gentle force pushing his side with her elbow. Juyeon looked down at that moment, but refuted back to his habits of scratching his nape and desperately giving Y/n his eyes curved so that every bit of sunlight passed through them.

Though, now, Juyeon has lost focus of the cream-white dot on the desk. Instead he has found interest in the youngest shirt. The highest point where the lines of his arm and shoulder meet. Fabrics and hands covered in flour. Eric’s blue gloves that  shine with snow like flour and crystal sugar, reach out for the silk ribbon tied to his neck, allusive to a spring girl in middle school, her name being First Love. Juyeon’s eyes follow Eric’s finger, to the point below his chin, and back to his face. 

“No…we’re not.” Juyeon’s lips, luscious as the green sprouts converting to rose petals in spring. To bring to touch the mark on his life. Juyeon, without gradual rendition, let his hands, painted in sugar, fall away from the ribbon without as much of an allude to the others essence. 

“Why?” He asks while Eric finds his voice and demeanor to be of the angel on the right side of his shoulder.  

”Should we be?” Juyeon, whose back falls a bit curved over the counter, shrinks even lower. All words articulated by him in this moment yearns for the youngest perspective on the world and the correct answers for the obviously wavering nature of his question. Eric abruptly loses focus on the dough again, and right as it comes out of his grip, the edge between his two fingers tear off. And the bell chimes when another colleague comes through the door. Somehow, when the colleague fades behind the door and Eric lets him wander, the bridge between their eyes is fully horizontal, with no diagonals. 

“No…?” Eric knits his eyebrows, “you two just looked like it.” 

The single corner piece that teared off, melts together with the essence without seems, when Eric starts shaping it once more. To force the cream-white fragile fragment in sphere shape, and all at once let Earth take a bit of the curve when it falls onto the tray. And Juyeon’s vision suddenly changes direction and once again, lands on his own work space. His arms hover over the counter, hands gently shape a crater-mit to watch space fill it up,  and his red apron hangs above his knees. Just as Eric's question runs through the secret corners of his mind. 

/

The curtains work as a filter for their screen to the outerworld. And how the TV radiates mellow blue shades throughout the entire room. The screen, with colors he didn’t know existed before, spread its blueprint onto the objects closest to it. 

In the beginning, Juyeon couldn’t work out the change in ambience when the curtains were down. But he knows now, the exact position of the not so bright room, and therefore the light would shine through their secluded corner, if it wasn’t for the flimsy fabric separating the two. 

On the rectangular screen, it has captured a picture of their own world and built it up with every pixel. But still, the camera shifts over the highly saturated landscape without details. With loss of this reality, their world is built with grain spots and rigid edges. The couple in this saturated world on the TV sits on a dark bench. How the camera stands in a slight high-point to capture crowns of the city beneath their feet. The camera angles itself for the audience to kindly discern the top part of her dress, most of the dull fabric is covered by her brown locks. The single shot drags on without dialog, she simply stares out over the loud space before her. Juyeon takes up his legs on the sofa, he squints his eyes and feels how that world calls him. The horizon reflects the lead's eyes, but somehow, something else, other than the city pours over them. 

Finally, the two on TV bring their hands together as the sunlight, through all hills, clouds and man made structures, illuminates them. How the Earth and Sun have fallen into position, makes the two, on the bench seem even more destined. 

Juyeon looks over towards Y/n. 

Her face has the artificial light cast up on itself. Dialog on the TV fades to whispers of weather on a windy day. The fabric of her shirt makes a stark contrast against the fabric of the couch, and her hands hold her lower legs. As the scenery on the TV passes, the entirety of his attention follows the single details of her pupils intensely dissecting the TV world. 

“Y/n?” Juyeon’s voice reaches her ears like the morning sun on a rain-covered leaf. How the smell of petrichor radiate a sense of belonging, his call compel her own existence to get a fragment of his own. 

“Hm?” She faces him. 

The words tail end somewhere in his throat and tears at the edge of his lips. Passing conversations in his new life crowds his mind. It pulsates deeply and torments the pressing surfaces. Juyeon closes his eyes. How the world becomes non-existent and the thoughts become less vivid, outlined and with colors.

At the same time, Y/n lies her eyes on his fingers. One starts to bother the left and she shifts herself closer to the full moon outside their window. And another star falls when they intertwine hands. Juyeon watches the couch mit, where their hands touch from above it. At the same time, his heart falters and it becomes a rhythm reminiscent of the clock during midnight. Y/n looks at him with immense eyes, how everything outside the four walls carrying them seize to exist. 

His eyes look at hers with a fluorescence sort of filter, complete with yearning, “Y/n, what does it mean to be ‘together’?” 

When the words leave his lips, it opens her heart as a flower visualizing the world for the first time in spring. But as it does that, Y/n force the petals to compulse, seem itself from the world like it has never existed. His eyes with curiosity refuse to leave her own. And the effect arises as her eyes change direction of the room and legs fall to the floor to touch the rug beneath them. 

While her vision casts itself in every direction, it lands on the TV screen, “It’s like them.” Y/n points at it. How the scene before them portrays them in a landscape so dull and devoid of color, but as one has their chin on their palm at the other mirror, the person over the table in their rectangular vision must be vivid of colors.

“Caring and comforting the other and receiving the same love back.” Y/n nods and looks back at Juyeon. To stare at a different world with a tilted head and let it be the answer to its questions. His eyes fall back to Y/n. In moments of understanding his new life, Juyeon wears this demeanor, similar to his true form. 

“Like us?” 

How his face sparkles in light. Another light that makes the natural shadows, highlights of the world and its fabricate stand as desolate. Juyeon’s essence is in this novel moment and her words, trapped in glass. Even when the spotlights are off and the sun has fallen under Earth, Juyeon still makes out the faint rosy pigments forming under her eyes. Just as she observes the rug beneath them and scratches her head, Juyeon’s back straightens and his arms in his lap become aligned, symmetrical to the other beside it. 

Back when he took the first step into her house and he started asking questions that had Y/n inspecting things in her own home. Juyeon genuinely believed she fell in curiosity over the details of her life. That rosy stains, abrupt silence, and eyes diverting towards the corners of the room was a language of interest in daily life. But as one kept passing the other each morning sun and he gently started through the looking glass, into the people like her. Juyeon realized that the pattern in her behavior, that the out-of-world state wasn’t a deep concentration of understanding, rather, his own life’s effect on her. 

The moment that euphoria came crashing right through him, his eyes fell and he moved closer to Y/n. Asked her with great eyes and slight forward posture if he keeps making her sick like this. If the rosyness on her face will spread to her inner self and contaminate every part of her body until she can’t breathe. Y/n got even redder by that at the time, and described with overlapping words and unclear hand motions. By somehow, Juyeon understood her colors are not a bad thing, not what they are, but it’s something positive, because of him. 

Therefore, he smiles endearingly when she faces the flower vase on the table. 

“No-I-not like us.” 

His face drops in an instant, and Y/n purse her lips in and forces her eyes closed. It all sets as a desperate and pained expression in the dark complex of the night. 

“We love each other a lot right?” She opens up her arms, “And there different types of love.” Y/n sighs before she continues, “All of them are good, and we describe them differently.“ ”‘Together’ is just not ours.” 

The atmosphere from before has shifted. The moment Y/n put an end to her sentence, a wind came opening the two windows and a cold, winter season lies over the room. Y/n’s left hand starts scratching the edge of her right nails. The distance between them seems even further, though it’s just 50 centimeters. For a moment, Y/n looks up towards him, his face speaks of someone looking out into the fading distance when the Earth’s collapsing. She bites her lip and looks away. Them on the TV, talk about love and a single sentence runs between the silence in their apartment. 

Could I be yours forever?

Y/n coughs before she stands up. The controller lies on the coffee table and reaches out for it. 

“We should sleep right, you need to work well tomorrow too.” 

Juyeon looks up from his spot on the couch beneath her. Her smile like it always is, making flowers grow in cold seasons or convert light when all the sources of the world withers. When she looks at him like that, all in this moment, an unfamiliar feeling runs through him. Sensations he can’t connect back to either his new or old life. Y/n comes closer and pet his head. 

“Let’s go to sleep.” 

Juyeon’s hand pushes his own weight off the couch, without words, he takes a step away from the warm spot. As won’t take his hand in hers, Y/n take one step closer and gently lace them. To walk towards the bed and wrap themself in fabrics. 

“Good night, Juyeon.” Y/n whispers. The yearning for an answer coats her heart as one second fabricates onto another. And when she opens her mouth to whisper it again, Juyeon returns the sentence in a voice devoid of that serene tulip feeling she gets every time he speaks. 

How the room falls in complete silence. Despite the sheet forcing warmth to cling to the abundant parts of her body, a coldness from the window pierce right through it. Y/n looks over towards Juyeon, to face nothing but his hair. As the moon motions over the sky, the right side of the matter becomes lighter. The fabric falls towards the mattress surface and he on the other side is now so small to fit on the pillow instead. 

And when the rain starts falling on their windows, Y/n can only feel that it’s her heart making motions over Earth. But despite storms and endless puddles forming on the street corners. Y/n put a bandaid on her inside, meanwhile forcing tape onto her own mouth and tie ropes on her wrist. There is a thought. That has been folded into the deepest part of her consciousness. That Juyeon’s affection, despite the adrenaline it gives her, is compatible with an innocent child confessing to their teacher. It is a part of growing up. 

/

And the sunset stands at the lower end of the sky and spreads its vivid colors over the horizon. Y/n turn away from the painting-like view and stare at Juyeon’s expression when the orange shade leaks from the horizon line and bleeds throughout the ocean. The scenery to their right as they walk past unknown conversations, and couples with knitted hands. In the other end of two directions, are painted signs, booths and hangers of clothes in shades reminiscent of the scene beside them. 

“Should we get something to eat?” Y/n looks up at Juyeon who returns the same expression with, in contrast,  a lowered head. To stand at the railing over the ocean edge as he nods. She smiles and releases his hand to walk towards the booth with a blue fabric sign and smoke escaping from the open points. Though, one step from his being, and his hands come back to her own. She looks behind her again and sees his immense eyes looking back at her as if watching disarray. Together with how his hand consoles her own like he misses it. 

“I need to buy it.” Y/n smiles. 

“Can’t I go with you.” He takes a step closer while still holding her hand. 

Y/n look at his eyes and slight pout. How the wind braids itself with his hair and takes it, but miserably fails, so it settles before his eyes. Y/n thinks of the near past, and remembers all decisions. How at this time in this space, herself one month ago would have sighed and gripped his hand a bit tighter. To secure him that there is never an empty space beside him. But as another moth went by and the moon changed its patterns, she came to think of his fragile heart and first discovery of the world around him. To let his person grow beautifully, he too should stand before Earth with his own feet. Look at its sides and discover its beauty, not her. 

Y/n shakes her head, “Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” She pats his head and runs away. This time, Juyeon lets her hand escape his own. 

For a second, Juyeon looked in the opposite directions of his surroundings. Life as complex as his own passes him as if it all is nothing. The faces of the people become stranger and they all merge into one. The very real presence of others makes him shake his head and concentrate on the back of Y/n’s figure and how she stands in the queue. A bit less than a minute and the sun has fallen another centimeter towards the water, in contrast to Juyeon who has stayed in the same space she left him in. 

“Hey?” He feels a touch to the shoulder of his shirt. A girl stands beside him at the railing, staring at him with rather dull eyes. Juyeon turns behind him, but none of the people on the forever long railing turn to face her. 

“Hey?” She says again and Juyeon points at himself. 

“Yeah, you.” She nods and his eyes widens. 

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” 

The girl five centimeters beneath him wears an expression contrasting to the sun's drowned path. Juyeon watches her, who shows no emotions, therefore he slowly brings his hands closer to his chest. To break eye contact with her, his eyes yearn for the person under the smoke and thin roof. But to his heart that flows continuously and hands that grasp whatever’s familiar, she stands with her back towards him. 

“So?” Her voice overpowers the incoming wind and the waves crashing against the edge. How her body stands frozen as they’ve stared at each other, but suddenly she releases her crossed arms and motions her shoulders. His hands tightly knitted together come even closer to his chest under the sweater. When she sighs quietly, Juyeon feels a rush to bring him one meter below where his eyes fall now. To become out of reach towards human emotions and run under the nearest flower pot. 

“Yes or no?” She asks again. Juyeon’s eyes grow larger and the ends fall into a sort of curved motion. At this point, a white question mark has drawn itself over his head. 

“Are you going out? Taking her number?” She looks over her shoulder and tilts her head towards the friend again, “You think she’s cute too?” 

His eyes insist on keeping themselves open. To switch between hers and the girl’s presence underneath one tree. The two scenes start fading into one, colors leak into the other’s surface and the forms of the world become curved. Juyeon finally closes his eyes and feels the water accumulate on its end. 

“Forget it.” The girl sighs. Her white shoes hit the wood beneath them. How her hair follows the motions of her heels turning the other direction from his. 

A tension suspended to his shoulders, falters as Juyeon watches how her silhouette will falter from his vision. A bicycle passes him to grab his attention, and as it leaves the framed world, his eyes fall back on Y/n who talks with the person in white cloth behind the cart. At that moment, Juyeon’s hands let go of the other one and he takes for the first time one step closer to the other person leaving his sight. 

“Can you help me with something?” The girl turns back to Juyeon standing with one hand over his nape. 

She stays quiet for a few seconds. 

“Sure,” she sighs, “what do you want?” 

To search the world for phrases and listen to the conversations behind him, “Is that a good way to ask someone to be your girlfriend?” 

Her eyes dissect his life and his inner self. It uncomfortably tickles his shoulders and withers his height.  

“I mean…” He scratches his nape again, “what your friend did.” he clarifies. 

The silence that comes after his questions is rather painful. Despite constant talking and surrounding them, it can’t save the dying air between them. The sunset is right between tier two silhouettes, but is all but magical. 

“Yeah…” she looks at him weirdly, “I guess.” 

“Okay.” He smiles brightly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” The girl walks away with furrowed eyebrows. 

Juyeon, paints and sculpts the world in his mind when the friend under the tree eagerly walks towards the other one. He doesn’t see how she waves her hand before her friend’s face and turns her back onto the sea. 

When the sun has moved another centimeter down the horizon, Juyeon stands watching it falling towards its death. He hears footsteps become all the clearer from behind, and while smiling, he turns his back on the scene in order to become a background, and fully faces Y/n. In both her hands she holds a rectangular cardboard piece. The plate with its fascinating textures and worldly colors. 

“Sorry it took some time.” She hands him one of the plates and Juyeon receives it with both hands. 

“Did it go well?” 

She watches how his head lifts when he stops staring at the food in his palms. A wind comes right the moment he looks up and catches some of his hair strands. A part of her heart drowns in the sunset when he smiles after her question. Juyeon nods so that his fringe follows his motions and Y/n reach her hand out for it. She forces one strand to the left and Juyeon watches her face as she does. Thereafter, Y/n follows the patterns of his hair and comes to the highest point. Her hand gently brings the strands down to his scalp, and Juyeon closes his eyes and brings his head down to her height. 

/

“Eric?” 

The youngest at the table looks up from his phone to see Juyeon with his arms folded over the table. Those eyes, immersive and bright from the sunlight behind the store window. Juyeon is slightly leaned over the white table and Eric, naturally, forces his eyes wider to mirror Juyeon before him. 

“I need your help,” He says with seriousness. How Juyeon’s posture lean on the rest of his chair, and his eyes on a single point as if everything else has faded from him. Eric lets go of his phone fully, resting with the screen down against the white painted surface. 

“What is it?” To fully reciprocate his question, he too leans forward. Eric’s full attention lands on his friend, even when the bell from the front door chimes, he won’t look away. 

“You need to make me Y/n’s boyfriend.” 

Juyeon watches how Eric’s posture sinks in the single second those words leave his mouth. That expression, Juyeon thinks. It's all evocative to the girl from the sunset ocean. 

“Okay…?” He leans back into the chair, knitted eyebrows and a confused look towards him on the other side of the table. “Why?” Though, the question leaves his lips and his eyes observes Juyeon’s, a view of himself in bird’s eye perspective takes him off the back rest. Instead Eric leans forward again. 

“Or I guess that’s obvious,” Eric says as Juyeon looks at him with hands in his laps, “Why can’t you do it on your own?” 

Juyeon’s eyes across the table, looking at Eric himself, turned his back on God. At some point, Eric tilts his head and lifts one eyebrow. To live in the same apartment should be enough to find confidence in one's own relationship, he thinks. But as Eric finds no sympathy in Juyeon’s condition, the one with a confused way of looking at the world, earnestly shakes his head. Those eyes alone and the stare that reaches across the table, is enough to make Eric lean back again. 

“It’s not the right way.” Juyeon still shakes his head. The palm of his hands land on the plastic surface of the white table. 

Eric, once again, knits his brows and brings his arm to cross one under. 

“There’s a ‘right’ way to do it?!” 

Juyeon nods. 

Eric sighs, his head directs itself towards the ceiling. One square of the white patterns sits two centimeters off its white border. His vision falls back to where it was before, and Juyeon once again becomes the center of it. Eric lets his hands drop from the cross over his chest and he asks; 

“Okay, tell me then, what should I do?” 

His hands in his lap. How his fingers have started to fiddle with the other and Juyeon is enchanted by the motions and fabrics that follow it, “You tell her that your friend thinks she’s cute.”

Eric stares with wide eyes, lost its vigor during the ten steps the minute visor has moved on the wall behind him. Another coworker passes them by, asking them to walk over to the counter to take the next person who chimes the bell. Eric watches how, the second those words leave the person's mouth, Juyeon stands up from his seat to face him, the one that gave them order fully. How the fabric of their aprons lifts when he who has them orders turn back to the colorless door three meters away. Juyeon looks back at Eric who still hasn’t stood up. Juyeon’s arm reaches to his mid tight, and they hang awkwardly there like decorations when he asks; 

“Can you do it?” 

Eric wonders whether the older guy before him has a dating life more depressing than the rusted bench outside the window, as he sits there. Or hold some sort of romantic power, too strong and creative for his simple mind. 

“Sure, I’ll do it.” 

/

Two friends sit in the inner corner of the room, right by the pink letters on the window. How the r&b playlist paints time in this space and to Eric, who stands at the register without current purpose, each word becomes distinct despite its faint presence. Eric watches the clock on the right side of the room. How the second visor completes another round of teh silver frame, and the minute visor lands on a perfect number. Behind him is another one of their workers in white apron, but Juyeon is nowhere to be seen. And before Eric leaves the register, the clear chime of the golden bell goes off and casts itself over the bakery. 

He turns away from the backroom and sees Y/n wave at him from the white frame. A bag decorates her left shoulder and her hair in turn falls over the fabric straps. It is a slightly colder season than before, so with time, her clothes have gotten all thicker to protect the skin from the cold. Y/n comes up to the counter and greets him, similar to the birds singing when the first flowers in spring grow. The hands on the counter fall to his sides and he greets her too. 

Another second passes and the expression of spring converts into something differently. To look for the sprouts of life in mid-winter, there is nothing for her to find. Eric sees how her chin lifts to see the space behind him. 

“Where’s Juyeon?” Her eyes speak of liquid moonlight. 

“He’s getting something, outside.” Eric looks around, “He’s here soon.” 

She nods. With only the barely one meter register between them, there is a silence created when two desperately try to solve a sentence in desperation to fill time. 

“I need to ask you something.” Eric stammer. The counter surface covers the patterns drawn by his white shoes. Y/n opens her eyes a bit wider and grabs the single strap on her shoulder. Juyeon’s question runs circles in his mind. To keep reaching back towards the kitchen.

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” Eric finally says.

Her eyes widen while her arms become rigid. 

“I-that’s flattering” Y/n stammer, “but…” 

Her voice fades to silence as Eric tilts his head. Y/n continuously blinks as the side of his head desperately leans towards the left. To look at the erratic behavior, until she catches how a silhouette comes out from behind the metal. His hand on the silver side and the strands over lustrous eyes, it all that has carved itself a space in her heart. Y/n see it all, only for a second, but it is enough to understand Eric’s exact language and square demeanor. 

“Oh.” Y/n smiles and looks at Eric. He, in contrast, furrows his eyebrows and leans towards her. Seek for another soul in the room to connect over his, what Eric thinks is, love-drowned behavior. 

“Tell him to meet me outside then.” Y/n straightens her posture and walks outside. The bell goes off again and Eric is left staring at the empty spot without traces. 

The second the chime from the edge reaches the far corner of the kitchen. Juyeon comes out from the metal covering his presence. That the skin of his hands cover a significant part of the outer edge of the metal machine. Eric’s back faces Juyeon and he fully frees himself from the cover and walks up to him. 

“What did she say?” Juyeon asks, his eyes drowned in moonlight glitter. 

Eric, at the register, finally stops staring at the point Y/n departed from. 

“To meet you outside.” Eric says without any sort of surgarcoat lining between his words. As his face watches over Juyeon’s, the bright light from outside becomes uncovered by the clouds just as his lips beam.  

How the two last digits on their phones count upwards as they bring the chairs over tables and take the mop to clean off the irregular pattern over the wooden floor. The bell chimes endlessly as the workers leave the room with windows from floor to ceiling. Juyeon and Eric are the last two out of the bakery, and Eric brings the keys to the door and a low sound comes from within the door when  he turns his wrist. 

Juyeon turns away from the frame and out over the city. As the buildings ascend above the square bakery and between the towers that pierce through the atmosphere, the setting sun beams its last warmth for the day. The two of them take their step down the stairs. Only four steps or two until they reach the sidewalk concrete and wave the other goodbye. And when Juyeon sees Eric’s back face him and his shadow paints itself over the street and reaches the cars on the other side, he turns behind him.

How the tiles of the sidewalk and sunlight lead him straight to the bench where she stands. The shadow beneath her feet follows the motion of her right hand as she waves to him. For a single moment, Juyeon stands on the tiles as if they’ve forced him down onto them. But in reality, that the earth round the sun in a forever circle seems unbearable. Because, when Y/n takes a step closer towards his existence, the entire solar system could circle around her. 

“Did work go well?” Her voice is soft and familiar of daily life as she stands before him. When she looks at him attentively, he nods so that the loose fabrics around his body follow it. Soon after, Y/n take the end fabric of his sleeve and gently pull his body towards her own. Sounds of shoe surface scratching against the rough tiles reach his ears, and then, they’re letting the street guide them further down the city. 

People become faceless as they enter the immense circle in the middle of the city. Juyeon grabs onto Y/n’s arm and she looks up to see his eyes follow the paths of strangers. How they cross red light and half way through, then color turns on its spectrum and the green light illuminates the concrete. The constant pitched sound pattern grabs onto his mind and torments a part of each senses. Y/n watches how his eyes closes. Without another second between the two cars and two groups of people before them, Y/n brings the left side of his body closer to her right. By nearly running, the two of them get to the end edge of the street. 

Juyeon finally opens his eyes when a wind blows past his lids. The maze of skyscrapers, signs and music have opened up before them. And now they stand on the path dividing the capital into two. Once again, they stand by the side of the city river and soon walk where the railing paints the edge of the water. Like the couples, parents with children in neon blue padded jackets and high school friends on bicycles, they follow the railing up towards each bridge that decorates horizontally over the vertical river. 

Conversations of people without faces crosses their life and fades before they get to comprehend it. They walk past one bridge, and how the pillars underneath it shows its true massiveness. Though, as they walk there, side by side in the illuminated city center, Juyeon continuously takes glances at her beside him. 

To go through the scene in intricate detail. Count the seconds and paint the motions, Juyeon can’t find the strings attaching Eric’s help at the bakery to their moment by the river. Despite receiving his question and answering it, in what he guesses, is a positive manner, she once again is by his side without a mention of his action. Though, he thinks back on the scene during the sunset, when the girl said her friend thought he was cute. She never got beyond that. What is supposed to happen after that? he thinks. Has the universe now, with that acknowledgement at the bakery woven together their existences? Will a sensation from another world visit his dreams? 

The thoughts rushes from his mind out towards his fingers and radiate to the deepest corners of his body. Juyeon once again looks at Y/n when they come to the next bridge where three benches stand in a pattern of two meters in between. 

“Are we together now?” He asks suddenly. 

His voice binds her heart to his own, therefore, her body, with just a small measure shifts closer to his own. Y/n looks up towards him with eyes mirroring the open river and chin a bit higher as if to compare each feature under his fringe. When they walk like this, Y/n waits for his lips to imitate the crescent moon that stands before them. But instead, a midnight streak in his eyes pulsates before her and his lips slightly apart. 

“What?” She asks. 

Juyeon stops one step before her in the midst of the river path and asks again “Are we together?”

Another wind comes between them when they stand one meter away from the other. How the couples and workers walk past them without lending a lens towards the two of them in the midst of the open path. Y/n’s vision covers when the wind takes one of hair strands, and without looking away from him before her, she forces it back between her ears. 

“You need to tell me.” The words fall desperately as his fingers begin fiddling with the other. His eyebrows fall into a sort of outward motion. Another flash before the pupil pulls on her heart and forces her to breathe out. 

“I-we’re not…” She stammers. 

Juyeon’s shoulders falter even deeper. Tragic weather has taken on the single square where they stand. The continuous motions of her chest is the only part of her that can be seen from outside, as she watches how his eyes fall to her shoes. 

“It hurts me, Y/n.” He breathes, “can’t you feel it too?” 

Despite standing in the midst of the overcrowded city, a silence only at the edge of the world has fallen over it. Y/n opens her lips as if she’s about to answer him, but the silence draped over the buildings that circle them like walls, spreads like poison through her veins. To voice so much of a vowel, she’s afraid venom will falter. 

“But it’s not like that, Juyeon.” She takes a step closer, “You don’t love me.” 

The calmness of the sunset evening is gently wrapped between her fingers. And when her hand reaches out to his shoulder, it tears off in one motion and falls to the floor and withers. Juyeon backs away. The evershining in his eyes that she has come to adore, has melted off his pupils, becoming liquid starlight at the end of his eyes. 

“What should I do for you to believe me?” He finally breathes, “that I love you.”  The transparent wall suffocating them two, shatters in a single flicker as Juyeon walks out of it. Left before her is an empty space and a cold wind. She looks to the left to see his silhouette become smaller and fall in line with the bench. Her hand between sky and floor, desperately  calls for someone to take it. 

Y/n can feel something gripping at the parts of her lungs as Juyeon walks towards the bench. His silhouette is ever so small against the immense river. When her feet stand in the same position still, and another person brush shoulders against her own to get through. It too, takes onto her skin and forces a deep, cold, metal lining into her heart. Somehow, it turns to the left and Y/n can feel her own knees desperately standing still. 

When her heart aches, Y/n looks back over the beautiful scene. How in every preservation, she would want to see him in the center. She sees him like this, and the sunset falls over him as if it is their only purpose. In the midst of her existence, he has become smaller. And when standing still at the edge of the world, Y/n realize this sudden fear. That he’ll walk along the path without her, and at the end another day, he will have faded like summer when it grace to autumn. 

Y/n finally leaves the spot behind her without traces. She holds her eyes on his hair as if to make sure that every moment he’ll continue to exist. 

Juyeon looks towards her when she takes the spot beside him. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be together.” he looks down, “Just say no.” He says while looking out over the lights in colors to form a path at midnight for those who wander, “Because, I just…want you to know that I love you.” 

When they sit by the river, his profile shows no sign of awareness of her own existence. Memories from before come back to her from every side and force itself into her heart. The scene up on the hill before the same river they’re beside now, plays behind her lens like a film from before. And when he breathes for a second time and the breeze from the water perfectly lies one strand behind the other. Y/n realizes how much he has grown. His emotions were gently wrapped in three sentences, ending in a yellow silk bow. A sort of sincerity in the golden lining threads her broken parts.

She finally smiles, when she looks at his hand that has reached out for hers. His smile that for the first time falters when he’s with her. At last, another conversation behind them fades and the world has fallen silent. 

Y/n takes his hand in hers and leans towards him with lowered head. He looks up at her through the hair strands and waits for her words to torment the deepest parts within him. 

“I love you too, Juyeon.” 

For a second, the line between the two falls in complete silence. It is this pitched sound that vibrates in the ceiling of one's ear, and it lingers there as each second passes. Though, finally Juyeon lifts his chin even a bit higher. His eyes clear as the sky curved over their heads and how the edges of his lips have formed a rose pink cradle. 

“You do?” 

Y/n nods. 

At this moment, Juyeon fully lifts his legs from the grass growing out between the tiles and crosses them over the bench. His front faces hers without a hidden feature and at last, he takes her other hand in his. And as they sit there under the falling sky, Y/n looks down onto her legs drawing circles on the gray concrete. How Juyeon sees his own life paints hers and he feels that sensation in the hidden corner of himself. 

The same feeling he recalls from their daily life. A sensation intimate with his new life takes his breath from the lowest parts within him before letting out. And his chest seems to bring him life for an eternity.  

“Can you feel it too?” Juyeon asks curiously and Y/n looks back up. 

Her eyes fall wider when he, without signs, brings his hand onto her heart protected in layers. Where the sensation mirrors his own. And an empty field without wind, Y/n watch him without motions. She looks at his eyes that concentrate on the pulsating on his palm. 

And he gasps with immense eyes, “You feel it too?” 

Y/n nods now with a smile reminiscent of his own. How the melted starlight died. But in the corner of his eyes, she sees the small shine of a newborn star. So delicate but enough to reach her own. 

And they sit there, legs over the ground and hands intertwined like the bridges beside them. Another pair of people walk past them, and Juyeon looks at her without words. Y/n tilts her head while knitting her eyebrows  with her smile. 

“What’s happening now?” He asks as he thinks of the movies playing hours on end by the TV screen. Her own mind fills in the blank spaces where two ears would perk up in union. 

She smiles even wider and Juyeon can’t seem to understand why she does so. As he tilts his head even lower and eyes grow wider, she finally leans forward. 

“This.” 

Her knees force the rest of her body up a bit higher. And her hands hold him even tighter when her lips fall on his own. Or, she overestimates the height in between them, and instead kisses the upper part of his lip, right underneath his nose. Y/n comes back down with redness from his own lips. At first, he stares at her without words. Expression the same as   before, all until his face lights up like the street lamps in every corner of their city.  

“It’s so fun kissing you.” He gasps. 

Y/n herself nearly falls onto the rest behind her, when Juyeon leans forward to press his lips against her own. She laughs and pushes him, the part of his chest right beneath the yellow ribbon. His eyes, like the city, shines up the passing darkness of the season, all while he pouts. 

“Just once.” She holds up one finger, “Once.”

_

Cat gets jealous :(

Y/n sees how his eyes move on from her own down to the spot beside her feet. She too looks down, Juyeon is brushing his head over her ankles and walks in circles around her. 

“This is Juyeon.” Y/n says. 

Her neighbor kneels down and reaches out his hand. The hand becomes all the more larger the closer he gets to Juyeon. The smell of his skin and light in his eyes. Juyeon’s fur stands up, he takes a step forward as the sharp teeth behind the soft fur shows. Juyeon’s eyes are formed like sirens and stare deeply into the man before them. 

“Juyeon.” Y/n quickly bends down and takes him in her arms. The stern tone fades into an awkward laugh before she looks down into her arms. 

“Sorry.” The man before her has gone back to the door and holds own hand, “He’s not usually like that.” Y/n smiles and looks down in her arms cupped to hold his light fur. His paws curl up under his chin and his eyes close when Juyeon can tilt his head onto her shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” He laughs, “Where is the leaking?” 

/

His hoodie falls over his shoulders like a blanket. In securing warmth from the material, he stands against Y/n’s back, watching how she cuts strawberries. The oven glistens in warm tones and it spreads over the four walls. He calls the sweet aroma from sugar and berries. 

“What is it, Juyeon?” Y/n turn her head back towards him for a second, then focus back towards the fruit. A familiar spark rushes through him when she talks to him with that high voice. He comes even closer and rests his head on her shoulder. 

“Is it something special?” He asks her. Y/n, despite looking at the plastic board and can only hear his whisper-like voice, sees his ears fold up. 

She smiles, “The plumber is coming over again.” 

The space on her shoulder becomes cold and she barely feels the edges of his shirt brush against her own. As a divider has moved between the two, Y/n looks behind her again and puts down the knife. In oversized fashion, hair strands scattered over his eyes and a small pout, Juyeon watches her attentively. Despite his disheartened demeanor and distance(distance being in juyeon’s world), Y/n laughs. 

“I need to thank him, Juyeon.”

His shoulders are still hanging low and the pout on his lips won’t go away. Y/n tilts her head and leans onto the counter.

Juyeon has circled her legs before, held her hand a bit tighter in public or strengthened his posture when someone else exchanged words with her. But when he stands before her right now, there are no walls or filters. With a yearning so transparent and a heart craving for her own, she can’t help but adore him even more. Y/n half a strawberry from behind her and walks up to his figure. Because of her motions, Juyeon’s eyes have formed from dissatisfied ones to asking questions. His own head tilts to the side and Y/n looks up at him before bringing the strawberry up to his lips. 

“Don’t sulk, Juyeon.” 

He bites down onto the strawberry and nods so that his fringe moves with it. Before bringing her attention back to the counter, Y/n reach her hand out towards the spot where his hair blossoms to all sides. 

_

Cat wants a pet name >:(

How the white curtains lie like a filter over the city during sunday morning. There are no calling responsibilities until another hour has passed them by. Y/n because of that lies with closed eyes, still under the covers. A sort of relief and satisfaction washed over her thirty minutes earlier as she thought she was late for university. But before Y/n could even throw off the sheet, Y/n felt her arm being pulled towards the bed-mit. She fell onto the pillow again and her hair scattered over the fabrics. When she took a glance to her left, she saw Juyeon with closed eyes and his soft skin up against her own. 

“It’s Sunday.” He whispered and shifted his head closer to hers, between her neck where Y/n felt him breathing deeply. 

Because of his low voice and silk skin, she could close her eyes without thoughts of dilemma grabbing her neck. Though, now the morning sun has struck her once again, and she shifts her head one step closer to the pillow, as to make sure she’s alive. Aside from the sun, there is someone else to bring warmth in the room she is in. Y/n has her face immensely close to Juyeon’s. So much that his breathing appears to move her own strands of hair. 

The clock continuously passes them by when time has stopped in the bed. Juyeon’s hair tickles her bare skin and she takes her hand to comb through his silk strands. His head falls backwards with eyes closed. In this angle, the sunlight strikes him perfectly, she thinks. 

“Y/n?” He whispers and she hums. 

To take notice how his skin shifts in pink and how his eyes open just to close as quickly. 

“What is it?” Y/n asks. 

He hesitates, “Why did you stop calling me kitten?” 

“Why?” He looks through the strands of his fringe. 

Y/n shifts away from his person, her face towards the white wall and the fabrics in a familiar shade folds over her. “It’s weird"...", she laughs. 

Juyeon won’t say anything more, or make a sound. And she conceives the way his scent intertwines with her own, that he has gone back to dreaming. But as the white paint of her wall fades from sight and her lids closes, the sheets fall a decimeter lower. The mattress shifts in weight and a sort of coldness comes from the empty spot and makes her pull the covers closer to her essence. Soon, Y/n opens her eyes as the left side of her pillow shifts closer to the morning sun and another presence in the same room affects the poi8nt below her collarbone. As it strains her body, Y/n makes a pained expression before opening her eyes and looks up.

“Juyomi?” 

He stays on her chest and takes one step after the other. To walk in circles on her upper body and sway his tail in her face. Y/n sneezes and takes her arms from under the covers and tangles within his fur. 

“Juyo?” Y/n sighs. Though, her grip around his thin body loosens as he stops turning and takes a seat on her chest. As he sits there, she references all the moments they’ve spent in  the same room staring into each otheräs eyes. Juyeon’s head won’t tilt to the left, but behind his small figure waves the tail from left to right in a slow rhythm. 

“Juyo?” Y/n says again, this time, in a tone much more playful. 

He walks even closer to her face and disappears beneath her vision. Instead, Y/n senses how his soft fur touches her neck. How Juyeon reaches his head between her chin and chest and lets the warmth of her self affect his own life. And when his face comes up to her ear, she hears faint breaths covered in white silk. 

“Okay, Juyo,” she says, “I'm tired.” 

Y/n wraps her arms around his fragile body and forces him down when she falls to the side. To look slightly down when her hair scatters over the pillow. She sees his eyes up towards hers, how the color spreads large over the white and sparks in the piercing sunlight. A second passes them by and Juyeon lets out a fragile sound before taking his head in her chest. 

Y/n  smiles how he falls blushy and gif eye contact with her in this state. Therefore, she hugs him a bit tighter before closing her eyes and falling asleep again on Sunday morning. 

_

mischievous cat :)

Y/n sits on one of the chairs at the white table. Her chin hangs over the computer as she stares at the black cursor. Though she has fallen into the digital world and nothing seems to be able to force her out of it. All at once, her shoulder falls backwards and she lets out a pained sound as a weight with cold claws lands on her shoulders. Her hands let go of the keyboard and grab the silk fur of the one higher up. 

“Juyeon, go off.” Y/n says, in which she only gets a meow for an answer. 

“Juyeon, seriously, we’ve talked about this.” 

Her words don't seem to reach him, or he doesn’t want to listen. His paws start to play with her hair and the collar of her shirt. 

“I’ll give you attention later, I need to work.” 

_

a/n: def not my best work. I promise to come back with something better! This took way to long than it should have🫠 thanks for reading💗

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Ideas for PPG episodes if my s/i was canon:

Introduction episode (of course) where Cherry Coading appears in the news as the sole programmer behind some new great innovation at Townsville Robotics (or something named similar idk), and Mojo Jojo decides to kidnap her and force her to use her programming skills to create some new evil device for him. As she's eventually reported missing and the police as well as the Powerpuff Girls slowly piece together where she's gone, Cherry ends up surviving just fine by playing her sweetness up to 11 with Mojo and feeding his ego just enough for him to lay off from being too cruel to her. At the end of the episode when the girls finally come to Cherry's rescue, they find that she's actually been doing just fine, but nevertheless she is saved and Mojo is taken to jail. As the episode ends, it's shown that Cherry's manipulative sweetness may have worked a bit too well as Mojo Jojo chisels a drawing of her face into the stone prison wall. Her tactics may not have been all show, either, as it fades to Cherry doodling Mojo in the corners of a blueprint, leaving the episode open to continue the romance at some point in the future 😉💖💖💖

Bear with me because this one I have extremely planned out but next episode Cherry appears in would be one where, during another battle in Mojo's lair, the Powerpuff Girls happen upon a journal of schemes on how to win over Cherry Coading, and the girls decide to help him with going on a date with Cherry (in reality it's more like they threaten him into it 😂). Blossom and Bubbles agree that the power of love may be just what Mojo needs to turn over a new leaf toward the side of good, whereas Buttercup is just waiting for him to slip so she can kick his butt and throw him in jail. Although Mojo Jojo doesn't take much of their advice to heart, one thing that resonates with him is the idea that he may have to give up evil for good if he truly wants to win Cherry's heart, and although it's a hard reality to face, he's willing to at least give it a try (at least for a little bit). The second half of the episode is the dinner date between Mojo and Cherry, while the girls not-so-subtly observe from various spots in the restaurant (in the coat rack, in a food cart, disguised as wait staff, etc) and continue to give Mojo advice that is either terrible or terribly interpreted by him, and as the night goes on things only grow more and more terribly awkward between the two. Eventually things reach a breaking point, and the one who ends up walking out is Mojo, exiting the restaurant and sitting on the curb sadly, thinking he blew it. However, Cherry follows and meets him there while the girls watch their conversation from the glass window of the establishment. Although they can't hear anything due to being on the other side of the glass, eventually Cherry ends up taking Mojo's hand in her own and giving him a kiss on the cheek! The girls dash outside excitedly and fly around the duo, celebrating their success and mentioning how Mojo is bound to give up evil now that the two are together, but suddenly Mojo breaks out into an evil laugh, starting quiet but gradually growing maniacal before saying that the girls are such fools and he never needed their help to begin with. He pulls out a remote similar to a car key and presses a button to summon a giant destructive mech, which he quickly dashes to to begin controlling and destroying the city gleefully. For a moment the bewildered girls question what they did wrong and how, if anything, he seems even more evil and destructive than ever before, before flying off to stop the villain. The episode comes to a close as Cherry watches the girls fly off toward Mojo's mech, sighing dreamily and saying "knock 'em dead, big guy", which reveals that she is definitely in full support of Mojo's nefarious deeds and that's most likely what she told him out on the curb when the girls were watching from the window. Also I think it's be cute if the episode was called "Simianfatuated". Say it out loud, it's more clever spoken than written

(The next few will not be as long I promise) Episode where Cherry wishes she could help Mojo with his schemes more, to which he invents a way to turn her pure evil. Things backfire when she ends up being far more evil than he is, dumping him and saying evil is her one true love. She uses his own technology to create a weapon that will destroy the entire Earth, and Mojo must team up with the Powerpuff Girls to stop Cherry and turn her back to normal.

While "monitoring" Cherry from his observatory as she goes about her day, Mojo notices her frequenting a specific video game store very often and becoming quite chummy with the store owner, Vince. Quickly becoming jealous, Mojo decides to keep spying behind her back, as well trying to relate to her video game interest when the two spend time together (which doesn't go very well, as ironically he is terrible at most games). Things come to a head when Mojo decides to accompany Cherry for a visit to the store; every little thing Vince says and does drives Mojo up the wall, only because Cherry seems clearly very encapsulated by Vince's gaming knowledge and sense of humor. The boiling point hits when, of all things, Cherry's hand accidentally slides over Vince's, sending Mojo into a rage as he begins to destroy the store and beat up Vince. Cherry yells for him to stop and asks what the heck his problem is, to which Mojo immediately plays the victim and whines that he was just worried that Cherry had feelings for someone else and was going to leave him all alone 🥺 To which Cherry immediately calls bullshit on and says that he's overreacting BIG-time and they're allowed to talk to OTHER PEOPLE, but she accidentally lets it slip that she was being overly sweet to Vince on purpose to get free stuff. The PPG show up from the commotion and after a quick fight, take Mojo off to jail, and Cherry is, obviously, banned from the store.

Alternate version of Criss Cross Crisis where Mojo swaps bodies with Cherry and uses the confusion as well as their sweet demeanor to rob various stores across Townsville, similar to the OG episode. After finding out the truth, Cherry (in Mojo's body) is understandably pissed to find out what Mojo's been up to, and they go with the girls to confront him. There's a brief comedic scene of the couple arguing before the girls begin their battle with Mojo; most of the episode proceeds as normally from here.

[ghooostbaby]

i saw season 2 of the adorable little donghua 'no doubt in us' was released and i enjoyed it so much :) the first season was about an emperor and empress who dislike each other but are forced by a spell to swap bodies and as they are forced to live as the other they fall for each other ... although that season did the great crime of ending not just after they had acknowledged they really were in love and kissed and changed back - but a scene later where they're being all awkward and then in MID CONVERSATION the episode just ends and its like "come back for season 2!" !!!!!!!! come on! laziest cliff hanger of my entire life.

but anyway season 2 they do act a bit shy at first but mostly the long misunderstanding season 1 is based on is over and its so NICE to spend some time with a romantic pair AFTER the misunderstanding has been resolved and watch them grow together rather than just have the curtains close. there is So Much interesting bits to focus on in a relationship when they're actually together WHY do so many stories seem unable to try anything but keeping them apart (as they repeatedly betray each others trust to "protect" each other) to give the narrative spice. Anyway, it was really cool to see how they gradually got to know each other and trust each other more deeply, and became more comfortable being affectionate. It felt so genuine! but ESPECIALLY because in the political plot, they are able to come out victorious because they choose to trust each other and work together, even in moments where it looks doubtful, it makes their relationship stronger, the plot more interesting, and the ending more satisfying than pointless self-sacrifice and secret keeping between lovers for no reason i can tell but to bait viewers. AHEM FAIRY AND DEVIL AHEM.

anyway there's also something about ... when the series began the emperor was this quiet, rigid, studious man, and the empress was energetic, likes being outside and doing martial arts, uncomfortable and avoids official duties and navigating social niceties bc she's kind of clumbsy. they both kind of don't get each other, thinks the other despises their way of being and so is defensive against them for that... after their body swap is over they have an appreciation for the other it's like they can become more themselves and more confident in who they are because they are loved. there's this part where the empress bursts onto the scene (pregnant) in armour and the emperor (who can barely hold a sword) is just having a major "😍!! that's my WIFE" moment. and he doesnt want to try to subdue her anymore. i mean the empress also appreciates his political cunning and intelligence blah blah, i think it's obvious who I'm here for haha.

there's some iiiiinteresting very softly gendery sexuality playfulness i think too. first of all the emperor becoming so sweet and silly after the body swap and empress becoming so fierce and grumpy ... i was like, oh. and then there's a whole part where the empress-as-emperor goes to meet with a tatar queen and they go horseback riding, heavy drinking, sparring (all the things the real emperor can't do) and they GREATLY enjoy each others company. then later when the tatar queen comes and realizes the emperor is different she finds out the secret of the body swap, and is just like cool, so the empress is actually my soulmate (implied) then she and the empress spend every day together and seem to be very close. and i just think that's neat! (can the empress have a harem? well actually she kind of ends up with one :P)

also the emperor's brother is typical frivolous, chatty, pleasure-house-going, expert fan wielder, who has a very flirty relationship with the extremely sexy and mysterious imperial astrologer purple man who has robes where the sleeves looks kind of like feathery wings in certain angles?? very good!

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 ao3

Eddie wakes again, and it’s a soft, gradual departure from sleep. When his eyelids eventually co-operate enough to stay open, he finds that Steve is already awake; the curtains are open, sunlight streaming across the bed.

“Hi,” Steve says, smiling, and it’s genuine—but Eddie’s getting familiar with knowing how to look closer. He’s sat up a little straighter again, a rigid line to his shoulders—and Eddie has a faint memory, suddenly, of Steve on the bench at a basketball game, waiting on tenterhooks to be called up.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks. When he swings his legs round, feet hitting the floor, he realises that the couch has been pulled back from Steve’s bed, frowns a little.

“Not much. They were just checking my lungs and stuff, ran some tests.”

Eddie can see the evidence of that now as Steve moves back the sheets slightly: his upper torso has a series of little marks, presumably where stickers and wires once were.

“They had to, uh, move you so they had enough room. Just kinda pushed the couch back,” Steve continues.

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment. “I slept through that?”

Steve laughs. He sounds fond. “Oh, yeah. You were, like, solid gone, dude.”

“You should’ve—”

“Nope,” Steve interrupts firmly. “You needed the rest. Plus, um, I kinda demanded that they didn’t wake you up. Thought it was the least they could do.”

Oh.

“Well, m’sorry I missed that,” Eddie says, and through the sudden warmth in his chest, he adds, “You gave ‘em a Harrington glare, didn’t you?”

Steve laughs again, bemused. “A what?”

“Come on, man, don’t you know your own legends?”

“Legends.”

“You know, your evil eye.”

“Saying basically the same thing doesn’t actually explain anything, y’know.”

“Don’t be all coy now, you made it damn clear when you were pissed at someone.”

“Like when?”

Eddie points upwards accusingly, as if plucking the memory from the air. “English, last period. When that sub—”

“Oh, him. He was an ass.”

“I thought you were gonna turn him to stone. You gave some pretty good inspiration for a basilisk in one of my campaigns.”

Steve gives a baffled smile. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.”

“Well—”

“Anyway, he was being a douchebag, making Rebecca read out loud; he knew she hated—”

“I kinda thought you liked her,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “You made me lose a bet on the prom couples.”

Steve snorts. “What is it with you and—never mind. No, I didn’t—it just wasn’t right, how he treated her. That was all.”

His gaze goes a bit distant as he speaks, his hand rubbing absent-mindedly at one of the more vivid marks, right on his breastbone.

“Hey, you uh—the tests went fine, right?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot I’d—yeah, aced them,” Steve says, and though his tone is flippant it’s also, thankfully, not sarcastic. He nods to the door, to the corridor outside. “Think they sorta want me to just go at this point.”

“They said that?” Eddie says, remarkably keeps his voice even.

“I mean, not exactly in words. They’re not like—you know, normal doctors or whatever. They’re involved in all this,” Steve gestures vaguely, “shit. S’not like it’s personal. Guess I’d want it to be all over, too, if I was in their shoes.”

Eddie just looks at him for a moment. He doesn’t know how to say you’re not a fucking inconvenience for people to be over and done with—knows that if he even gets close to something as bald as that, Steve will not really hear him.

So instead he says, “Is it too late for breakfast—shit, yeah. Uh, I can offer you the vending machine’s finest, à la carte?”

Steve grins. “Gimme anything with chocolate and you’d be my hero, man.”

-

It’s only when Eddie reaches the vending machine that he realises he doesn’t have any more change on him. He curses under his breath, wonders if he can yield any candy bars with a well-timed kick—but before he can even lift his foot, the machine whirs with no prompting, and deposits a pile of candy into the slot.

Nonplussed but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Eddie bends down to take the haul, then spots a familiar reflection in the glass.

“Hey! What the—what’re you doing here?” he says, watching as El grins and wipes surreptitiously underneath her nose.

“Visiting,” she says simply, and that’s when Eddie notices Jim Hopper right behind her.

“Yeah, there’s some stuff we’ve gotta straighten out,” he says mildly.

It’s striking, to see him up close. There’s things Eddie never noticed in his bird’s eye view of him in the parking lot: how thin he is, his hair so closely shaven that it just serves to make his face look even more gaunt.

Hopper ruffles El’s hair. “Had to bring one of the kids with me or there’d be a damn mutiny.” But his hand lingers on El’s head, and Eddie can tell that it’s more than that—like he wants to keep her close.

Maybe it’s the fact that the guy’s clearly been through some shit that Eddie doesn’t stumble too badly over how Hopper is chatting to him like it’s normal.

“Uh, I can, uh, take you to Steve’s floor?”

“That’d be great, kid. Saves Joyce from murdering that poor girl on reception.”

Hopper whistles, raises his hand—and then Joyce Byers is hurrying over, and she clutches Eddie’s hand, squeezes like he’s a dear family friend.

“Oh, Eddie, sweetie, thank God we—this way? None of our calls were getting through, god, you won’t believe the trouble we—now if we can find a damn doctor who actually knows, I’ll—”

“Um,” Eddie says, voice a little strained—his mind stuck on both Eddie and sweetie. “I’ve not actually—they’re being pretty elusive.”

Hopper smiles grimly. “Oh, we’ll find them.”

-

They must be a magic duo, because they’ve been on Steve’s floor for barely a second before both Hopper and Joyce are slipping into an office room, jaws set. The door shuts.

One beat, and then Eddie hears the muffled, thrumming cadence of raised voices.

El shrugs. “They will be a while,” she declares. “Let’s go see Steve.”

-

Steve’s jaw drops when El walks through the door.

“You’re gonna catch flies, Harrington,” Eddie says—but he only says it because Steve looks, for just a moment, overwhelmed.

It works, gives Steve just enough time to rally.

“Shut up, Munson.” He rolls his eyes at El as if to say can you believe this guy?

She giggles, then goes over to the bed and wraps her arms around Steve in a gentle hug.

He pulls her closer, brings a hand up to stroke her hair, and his face falls a little, as if he’s had a sad realisation. Then he gives himself a shake and murmurs, heartfelt, “You’re goddamn amazing, El. Thank you. Thank you.”

El shakes her head, draws back. “I only got you a little way there. You brought yourself back, Steve.”

Steve gives a fragile smile—looks like he’s trying his hardest to ward off tears.

”And what am I, the furniture?” Eddie says.

Steve snorts, blinks, and his answering grin is strong. “Oh, I suppose you did something,” he sighs dramatically, and he nudges El. “Shall we give him that?”

“No,” El says dryly, and Steve cackles. “Come on, then, catch me up! You blow my house up yet?”

El smiles. “Not yet. I like your movies. I want to go to a thrift store, to try and find something like Liesl’s dress.”

“Oh, the pink one?” Steve asks, and when El nods he says warmly, “Yeah, that’ll suit you.”

While they talk, Eddie starts to place all the candy on the bedside table. It’s a carefully curated selection from the pile El had initiated—chocolate bars Eddie thinks Steve will like: 3 Musketeers and U-No Bars.

Steve catches his eye, mouths, “Hero,” and winks.

[bellygunnr]

Trueno Twitterpation

A commission piece for @lyndexv of their OC Geoff reviving a sentient AE86! It was an absolute blast to write.

----

The AE86 was a cowering, sorry mess when he first discovered her, wheels stuck fast in dry-wet-dry again mud ruts and strapped down by voracious forest overgrowth. How she got there evades Geoff still, as her previous handler had long since passed and the one before him just wanted her gone. He'd all too eagerly dragged her out of her mire and onto a tow truck. The sunlight'd been good for her on that trip, though. Under the muck, her paint had taken on a faint glow, which he kept an eye on until she was practically a fireball trailing him home.

Now she's clean. Physically, at least. Her tires are new and so is her paint. And she stares at him plaintively from his driveway, headlights popped up, drawing his full attention repeatedly until he can do nothing but give in to her call. It's nice outside, at least. A pleasant day with a breeze. His skin itches, like he imagines the Trueno's does, a restless buzzing that urges him to unlock her driver's door and drop inside, stretching out to fill the cabin with all the languidness of a cat in a sunbeam.

He runs his hands along the hard edge of her utilitarian dashboard, key pinned against his palm with his thumb. Dust floats up in fits and bursts as he does so, becoming a thin veneer that the low outside sun diffuses in. The restlessness becomes electric, then, and he hurries to turn the key in the ignition over.

The dashboard lights gradually warm to life. The engine, not so much. The AE86 trembles under his hands, her anxiety as acute as a storm's ozone, her shame a pulsing heat between his eyes, like tears. 

"Hey, hey," he says gently. "Don't be upset. I know it's hard. It's not your fault."

The Trueno's frame judders hard with the force of the engine cranking. Fuel sparks, but it's both too much and not enough, and he sees smoke filter pitifully from her backend through the rear view mirror while the engine sputters back out. He pats the top of her dash consolingly.

It's terrible. She's willing, he can feel it, but there's-- problems. Barriers. Age. Disuse. Abuse. And it's killing her.

"I'll be right back. Alright? I've got a couple ideas."

He runs his hand across her dash one more time. Heat bleeds between them, lingering all the way to the hardware store, which he bikes to. When he comes back, he's significantly poorer and weighed down by car parts.

But it's a nice day. They've got time to burn. He has the tools.

And she's willing.

--

Geoff pulls out spark plugs that are black and burnt. He swaps them out for new iridium-tipped ones. Then he pulls the air filter and the carburetor and that's a new round of problems-- running is to survival as driving is to living, can't have one if you're the other, so he's glad he bought a rebuild kit for the carb. 

"Guess we'll have to go for that drive tomorrow. Sorry, girl," he sighs. "But this won't take long. I'll get you put back together."

The wind blows. One of the headlights abruptly droops, as if the '86 is winking in acknowledgement. Geoff carefully lowers the hood down and clamps it shut.

"Just sit tight."

He ducks into his garage.

---

The carb body has to soak and dry, and be brushed through. He sits at his workshop bench with the flood light on and goes through the floater, the jet screws, all of it, until it is whole and hale. His back burns with the full attention of the AE86 (or maybe he's just imagining it). (It's getting hard to tell).

It's dark out by the time he's done and that's okay. He drags his light source out with him, making multiple runs for the tools, until the AE86 is open and waiting. She's cool to the touch now that the sun's gone. She patiently abides Geoff's fumbling around in her engine bay.

"That should help with some of it. New air filter. Rebuilt carburetor-- I changed the settings, too, just to keep up with things. That'll feel good in the morning."

He's numb with cold by the time he's done. She bounces on her suspension when he closes her hood one more time, finished for the night. His hands linger on the panel of her closed headlamp.

"Good night," Geoff says.

---

He ends up sleeping in too late the next day. The shrill beep of a horn-- not French, he thinks bizarrely-- wakes him up with a shout. He's halfway out the door in just a t-shirt and boxers before his brain catches up with his body and he stares hard at his driveway, confused.

Clouds skate across the sky. A bird lingers atop his mailbox.

The AE86 has not moved an inch. But--

"I'm gonna go get dressed," he tells her. 

And he does, in record time. The Trueno's key bites into his palm with a sort of nervous energy. He's still not fully awake, but he's jittery in a suppressed adrenaline, pre-interview, post-accident kind of way. It's usually not a good start to a day. But this feels alright.

The driver's door is ajar before he even pulls the handle. He pauses, but shrugs and slides into the seat, letting muscle memory guide him until the engine is cranking.

It hangs.

"Come on, girl," he urges quietly. 

He twists the key again.

With a pop, the four cylinders start to go, and everything buzzes to life.

"Brilliant!" Geoff cries. "I knew it! I hope that feels good!"

His face twinges from smiling so broadly. Experimentally, he revs the engine, watching the needle smoothly sail from idle to 2000, 3000, and drop back down. There's some rough bubbling-- but she's not quitting. Good. Fantastic, even.

He drops into first gear. Very gently, they work together, easing out of the driveway and onto the gravel road beyond. She snarls a little passing into second into third, but stays true.

Excitement suffuses him. He can't tell if it's all his emotions or something else. But it doesn't matter. Geoff cranks the windows down, waves at a passing motorist. They don't understand.

That's okay.

They end up driving to the coast. After some time, he feels the urge to pull off onto the side of the road, where a breeze has picked up and drags in the scent of the sea, mixing in with the tang of grass. It's picturesque. His heart is still beating fast.

The Trueno idles along. Geoff tenses suddenly.

Thank you, he hears.

"What?" He blurts out.

Thank you, is repeated. For saving me as you did.

The voice is entirely in his head. Yet he can hear it. Hear her. And he knows in his bones that he's hearing Her, the '86, her chassis trembling with the raucous motion of her engine. This adrenaline. This joy. His, but not his alone. Hers, too.

"I'd do it again," he says stiltedly. "And I'll keep fixing you up until there's nothing wrong with you."

He hears her wheels crunch in the gravel. The blunt curve of a fender presses up against his legs.

Of course. I have full faith in you.

Geoff scrubs at his face, trying to hide a rapidly rising blush. She can't just SAY that! He turns around, only to find the Trueno shaking on her rear-suspension, in a rather identifiable pattern. Of course. 

"The feeling's mutual," he gets out.

They're both glad it's such a nice day out.