#there is so much clarity & confidence he's better than he thinks

[tuituipupu]

small english interview with käärijä at prepartyES 2023

[quaranmine]

the here and now

After dying in Limited Life, Joel wakes up in his bed on Empires. Except he isn't alone when he does.

Words: 2312; Joel and Jimmy centric.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Joel wakes up thrashing, sitting straight up in his bed. It feels like breaking the surface after nearly drowning, lungs burning and filled with a desperation to live. He gasps for air, and finding it available in acceptable quantities, breathes it in greedily. 

It’s okay. He’s okay. He’s awake now. He’s awake now? Why is he awake? Where is he? 

His skin feels hot and clammy to the touch. His head is fuzzy and heavy. His rest was not restful. He feels like he has a fever that has just broken, or is about to break. Some sweat runs down the side of his face, and it’s warm. 

It takes him a moment to get his bearings, but Joel is actually well-accustomed to this feeling. He just isn’t red anymore, that’s all. Joel has been red enough times and for long enough periods of time to be intimately familiar with the feeling. And everybody wakes up like this, in the end. There is always an end, and even when you don’t remember it, there is always a bed to wake up in afterwards. 

Being dragged from red and dead back into the world of the living is like being yanked out of a bloody haze and splayed onto the ground. He’s still shaking. 

Joel blinks and takes in his surroundings. The room is mostly dim, but there’s a dusky slice of light coming in from partially ajar window shutters. He can see little bits of dust hanging in the air, almost like little sparkles in the golden sunbeam. 

He isn’t in the Bad Boys base. He’s not on top of the burned out and flooded mansion, or in his submarine, or alone and exposed on the rocks of spawn. Instead, he’s in a room he recognizes well, surrounded by massive pillars of regally carved quartz. The room is filled with marble and stone with intricate carved detail. It’s massively oversized too–fit for a god, and nothing less. 

So. He’s home.

So. That was the end for him, after all. 

He exhales slowly, letting his breathing steady out. The extra minute of thinking has graced him with a little more clarity. The desperation and madness he felt upon waking up–the desperation and madness of before, of ticking clocks and red names–is trickling away, slipping through his fingers like sand from an hourglass. He doesn’t feel the blood rushing in his ears anymore. He just feels tired. 

Something catches Joel’s attention suddenly, though. He’s not actually alone in this room. There, leaned up against one of the walls and sitting on a marble windowsill is the sheriff himself. 

Jimmy is here. 

Joel’s first thought is that Jimmy looks small. Well, that’s a given. He is small. He is a small little toy-sized man. Jimmy’s feet are so far off the floor that Joel wonders how he even managed to climb up onto the windowsill in the first place. After all, Stratos is sized for a god. 

But the thing about Jimmy is this: his presence is always large. When Jimmy enters a room, he is noticeable. He has bravado, and a healthy dose of unearned swagger, and certainly too much ego, but he nonetheless cannot be ignored. He’ll trip over his own shoelaces and then claim to be the most agile person on the server thirty seconds later, and his easy confidence makes you think he might actually believe that.

Sometimes, though, Jimmy fills a room with better things. He is often loud when he is agitated or indignant, but he is especially so when he is excited. His happy shouts liven up the atmosphere and his laughter fills a room. Jimmy is a presence unto himself, and somehow a magnetizing one. He’s easy to tease and somehow impossible to hate, even at his worst. Joel can never tell him that, though, or he’d be even more insufferable than he already is. 

But today Jimmy seems quiet and small. 

It looks like he might even be asleep. His head is tilted to the side, resting against the wall. Like he was trying to stay awake but drifted off. 

Joel swings his feet around and over the side of the bed, standing up quietly. He takes a step forward, but the room is large, empty, and full of polished stone, so his footsteps are louder than anticipated. Jimmy stirs at the noise, and suddenly sits straight upright. He always did react to the slightest of sounds, even when you thought he was otherwise oblivious. 

Jimmy startles upon seeing him. “Joel!” he yelps. “You’re–you’re here.”

“Hello, Sheriff,” Joel says. “Were you actually watching me sleep? That’s so weird.”

“No! I wasn’t watching you sleep!” Jimmy cries indignantly. The energy in his voice peaks at Joel’s jab, and all is familiar for a moment, before Jimmy suddenly gets somber again and his voice swings low once more. “I was…I was watching your bed, actually. You weren’t in it before.”

“That’s not any less weird,” Joel decides, but what he can’t admit is that he gets it. Joel was gone. He was in another server, another plane of existence. He was a different Joel. He wasn’t God Joel of Stratos over there. And then he died for good and when he respawned he woke up on his home server, just like Jimmy did. And…Jimmy knew that would happen.

It’s weird, but it’s no less weird than the way the Bad Boys slept in beds pushed up next to each other out under the stars, or the way they woke up in the mornings accidentally snuggled together. 

What comfort did Jimmy take in Joel’s empty bed? Comfort in seeing every minute that he lived longer? What disappointment greeted him when he woke up to see Joel was back so soon?

Jimmy looks concerned and gives Joel a once-over. “Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is earnest, urgently pressing him to answer. 

“Why aren’t you in Tumble Town?” Joel asks instead.

“No, you don’t get it, you don’t get what I’m saying,” he pushes, and stands up on the windowsill from his sitting position so he can look Joel in the eyes from across the room. “I’m asking you why you’re here.”

“I get it, Jim,” Joel says softly. “I got it the first time.”

“But you didn’t answer my question,” Jimmy demands. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?” Joel says. “Before everyone else?”

“You know why I’m here first,” Jimmy says bitterly. “I’m always here first. It was inescapable. But it wasn’t for you, you were supposed to live longer!”

“It didn’t have to be inescapable,” Joel whispers. “You could have lived.”

“I never live.”

“You could have,” Joel insists, and he crosses the room in a few long steps to look at Jimmy more closely. “I was going to sacrifice myself for you, you know. I was going to give you my time so that you wouldn’t be the first to die. It didn’t have to be like this.”

“But it did,” Jimmy says. He drags his eyes away from Joel’s. “And it was like this. Because it is always like this.”

“I was going to sacrifice myself for you,” Joel repeats, nearly at a whisper. “And you went and died anyway.”

“I didn’t–I didn’t ask you to do that,” Jimmy says. 

“It didn’t bother you with Scott or Bdubs. You took their time happily. Why couldn’t it be me?”

“They aren’t the Bad Boys,” Jimmy says. “They aren’t you or Grian.”

“It should have been me because we’re the Bad Boys,” Joel says sharply. “That’s what we do, we look out for each other. I was going to give you time. God, I wish I gave you time. I shouldn’t have waited.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Jimmy says miserably. “You couldn’t have saved me.”

“Ugh!” Joel throws up his hands. “You’re so–you’re so blimmin’ annoying! You’re impossible! Why do you keep acting like you wanted to die? Why do you keep arguing with me?”

“I didn’t want to die!” Jimmy cries. “I never do! But wanting to live isn’t enough in those games. You didn’t need to die instead of me, Joel. There was never a chance of winning if I was there, but I thought that maybe since I had gone…”

“Well, a fat lot of good that did me,” Joel snaps, gestures dramatically, “because as you can see, I’m dead anyway!"

“You were too reckless,” Jimmy says. “You were supposed to live.”

“Reckless? Coming from you?” 

Jimmy flinches a little, and clenches and unclenches a fist. “I tried,” he says, words clipped. 

“That’s what makes it worse, Jim.” Joel laughs, but it’s strangled. It’s cutting, and it sounds a lot more like the way God Joel of Stratos used to harass the Sheriff of Tumble Town, and not like a friend. 

“I don’t need your pity and I didn’t need your time,” Jimmy snaps. 

“It wasn’t out of pity, Jimmy,” Joel says. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe someone actually cares about ya a little, you know. For once.” 

Jimmy doesn’t speak. 

Joel shakes his head. “And I know you would have taken my time. Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have. I know what you felt ‘cause I felt it too before I died. That panic just takes over and…yeah. You would have accepted my bloody time!”

Jimmy looks down. “I thought you and Grian would have lasted longer once you stopped having to worry about me.”

What Joel doesn’t say is that he was never going to have lasted without Jimmy. It was his plan from the start–play recklessly, lose a lot of time, and then donate the rest to Jim, thereby breaking the cycle and making Joel die first. He never planned to live a long time. Live fast and die young, yeah?

And without Jimmy, well–well Joel hardly remembers most of it, in truth. He went a little mad, maybe. He remembers Grian withdrawing a bit. He remembers bloodshed and TNT minecarts and the high adrenaline of battle. He remembers the desperation of the final minutes on the clock, how it felt like he was clawing for scraps that might let him hang on a few moments longer. And he remembers thinking that maybe he could have delayed this fate for Jimmy, just a little longer, if he’d only died earlier. 

But for the life of him he doesn’t remember a single thing about his thought processes from then. There’s only Jimmy’s death, and then a haze of actions he can’t quite rationalize. Probably because none of them mattered at all anymore. He should have been dead by then, anyway. He was never supposed to watch any of the Bad Boys die before him.

 “Jimmy,” Joel says quietly. “How long did you plan to wait on me?”

“The whole time, I guess,” Jimmy says. “I was hoping it would be a while.”

“That could have been more than a week. You were gonna watch an empty bed for days?”

“The longer the better,” Jimmy mutters. He’s embarrassed now, cheeks flushed pink and eyes averted from Joel’s. “Is Grian–because Empires isn’t his home server, so I can’t just check–”

“Grian was still alive,” Joel confirms. “At least he was when I died.”

He told me not to leave him alone. But Joel had left Grian alone, in spirit at least, from the moment Jimmy died. And Grian had known it, because he had already been making arrangements for a new alliance afterwards. 

Joel wanted to feel betrayed about that, but all he felt was emptiness right now. He's so tired. He's too tired to care about it anymore.

“Do you think he has a chance?”

“He had a lot of time,” Joel says. “I think he’ll be fine.”

“He could win it for the Bad Boys,” Jimmy says. 

“Since we couldn’t, you mean?”

Jimmy chuckles a little and ducks his head. “Well, I think expecting me to win for the Bad Boys was a little much.”

“Ugh,” Joel says. “I didn’t even want you to win, I just wanted you to not be out first.”

“I’m sorry.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “You’re fine.”

“You didn’t really do much better did you?” Jimmy says. “Like, I seriously thought it would take longer for you to get here.”

“You’re so rude, Timmy,” Joel says. He pauses for a moment to think. The name of the game is inevitability. Jimmy could have received more time, but he still would have died. Joel just wouldn’t have been around to see it. “There’s really no point though, is there?” he says after a moment. “To doing better, I mean. Dying just means we get to leave and come home faster.”

“It never seems like that though,” Jimmy says. “When you’re actually in the game, I mean. It feels like winning is everything.”

“So here’s to not winning, then.” 

Joel raises an invisible glass. Jimmy returns the gesture. 

“Here’s to not winning.”

Joel turns toward the door, takes one step, and then pivots back around to Jimmy once more. “Actually, uh, do you want to go to the tavern with me, the one in Sanctuary? El Caldero de Colores? We could get a real drink and maybe some food that isn’t bread for once.”

“Hey, what was wrong with bread?” Jimmy says indignantly. “Joel, get back here. Tell me what’s wrong with bread!”

Joel’s already halfway out the door, but he calls back over his shoulder. “Are you coming, or do you need help getting off that windowsill? Unfortunately, Stratos doesn’t make step stools, but I’m sure I could find something that works.”

“I hate you,” Jimmy calls back. 

“We’re not in our hater arc anymore Jim, can’t you read the sign I made for Tumble Town? Or do your schools not teach reading out there?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jimmy grumbles. “We’re best buds.”

[rebeliz7]

AUGUST - DRABBLE #11

11. You and Wanda

Two months after you were shot, you’re finally assigned a new mission. It’s a small mission, danger almost nonexistent and you’re not going alone either. 

You heard about how Wanda rescued you from that Military Base and how she completely demolished the place just to get you out alive, and you’re infinitely grateful for that but to have her chaperone such a low risk mission like this one for you? It doesn’t exactly scream confidence. 

You don’t need a babysitter. She’s a higher rank level operative than you are in the Avengers Compound, so you can’t ditch her but you’re not exactly happy to know that she’d be joining you for this. 

Daisy isn’t happy you’re going at all and you have to leave your shared bedroom without a goodbye, and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s not like you can go against Fury and tell him your fiance thinks he’s wrong, which is why you should just stay at home. 

Rank exists for a reason. Yes, this team is important and somehow the people in it have become more than friends, but what you do is still a job. You’ll talk to Daisy when you return.

…

Natasha stays quiet as Wanda packs a small suitcase. Natasha limits  herself to walking beside her on the way to the garage, but still says nothing. Natasha smiles when she sees you, and even grabs your small suitcase and puts it in the trunk of the car that Wanda will be driving, but says nothing. 

You’re wearing jeans and a long green sleeve shirt, that Wanda remembers ripping off your body in your bedroom with almost morbid clarity---she looks away when Natasha approaches you again. 

“Daisy’s not coming?” Natasha asks as Wanda swallows with difficulty, perhaps even a little bitterly. 

“She’s worried it's too soon for me to go out there again.” You explain with a shrug, making Wanda want to run her hands on your shoulders and help ease the obvious tension that your fiance has put there. 

“It’s not.” Wanda chimes in, and you finally turn to look at her. 

She loves you, all consuming and insanity inducing, loves you. She wants you, the desire to reach out and touch you is almost unbearable, her body inches forward without her consent and she has to be strong, even though she doesn’t want to be. 

“You’re ready.” She tells you, unaware that her voice breaks and unknowingly fisting her hands  behind her back. 

“But you’re still joining me.” You comment gently, but she knows you better than you’ll ever know. You’re not happy she’s going with you, that much is clear but she’s not going as a babysitter, only she can’t tell you that. 

“Well, better be safe than sorry, right?” She says as she moves closer to Natasha and you roll your eyes, however affectionate. She loves the expression on your face, playful and always, always open for her. 

You still have a soft spot in your heart for her and she sees it, and at this point it feeds into her hope. 

…

There’s rust on the door of the hotel room you’ll be staying in, the detail makes you hesitate for some reason until Wanda nudges you to move forward. 

The mission is done before you know it. You’re barely done setting up your equipment to hack into the security cameras when the deal goes down. You have pictures, audio and video footage, and everything you need to finally send this Senator to jail for a few decades. 

You can be back at home by down, and Wanda panics. She doesn’t want this time with you to be so short, she’s barely had the chance to talk to you, and her chest already feels like it’s about to give in if she doesn’t just touch you. 

…

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping just outside the cottage, and the smell of fresh coffee brewing just a few feet away from the living room. 

It’s August 17th and you still have two more weeks with Wanda. Smiling, you try to move your legs but the delicious pain that spreads when you do, reminds you that she’s insatiable when it comes to you. 

The thought that she wants you just as much as you do is still a little hard for you to believe, but the aching in your body isn’t hard to ignore. 

“Hi baby.” Wanda smiles, as she joins you back in the little nest that she’s prepared for the two of you, and you welcome her with a soft kiss that she reciprocates in kind. 

“When did you get up?” You ask her as she lays more comfortably on top of you and you cup her face, looking into her eyes. 

“Just a few minutes ago.” She says as she kisses the palm of your hand, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that you haven't seen before.

“Is everything okay?” You ask and she hums, nodding her head a little too quickly. 

“Of course!” She smiles, and you see the red swirling of her powers swimming in her irises before it dissipates, and you’re back looking into the beautiful hazel color that you love. 

“Wanna go again?” She asks you, deflating but the sound of her laughter fills the otherwise quiet cottage with her glorious sound and you smile too. 

She kisses you wantonly, her hands pushing away the blanket from your bodies completely and you laugh at her eagerness. 

You’re still naked while she’s wearing your long sleeve green shirt that looks ridiculously good on her.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She says as she kisses your neck, her hands squeezing your waist as if she never wants to let go. 

“Well then, next time don’t leave me sleeping alone.” You tell her with a laugh.

She looks up at you and the look in her eyes is too deep, it bores into you and it sends a shiver down your spine. The look in her eyes is crazed and it frightens you in a sense, but the look is quickly replaced with a teary smile that immediately tears down at your walls. 

You love her, you’ve loved her for a while and you probably always will. She’s everything you’ve ever wanted and wanting her has been enough, and it’ll have to be enough for the rest of your days after August is over. 

“I won’t.” She finally speaks, the look in her eyes softening and when she kisses you, you taste coffee on her lips and heartbreak on her tongue. 

She takes charge in a way that leaves bruises on your skin. Her hands roam your body like they’re familiarizing with it again, her mouth kisses and licks at everything you have to offer as if she were desert and you’re the source of water that she’s been desperately craving. 

She touches you with a desperation that is new to you, although the touch of her hands remind you that this is Wanda and you know her, you love her and you still have time. 

She doesn’t waste any time on foreplay, though she doesn’t need to, and slides her cold hand between your legs just as she claims your lips in a searing kiss that swallows the moans she incites in you. 

You feel her fingers slipping inside of you, stealing your breath away and uniting you and her in a sacred way that will forever live in your memory. 

She murmurs something in a language that you don’t understand as her fingers work magic inside of you. Panting and holding onto her arms you open your eyes to look at her, but you can’t speak---hell! you can barely breathe with what she’s doing to you. 

“I had you.” She says and she says it over and over again, even as you cum around her fingers and even as you shutter in her arms after.

Confused and body still tingling from the intensity of this particular orgasm, you immediately wrap her in your arms. 

She doesn’t say anything else, but she does hug you tight, so tight in fact that you want to tell her that you’re not going anywhere but you can’t bring yourself to break her peace for now. 

Because she seems peaceful as she hugs you, her eyes just looking at you and saying nothing at all---she seems at peace. 

“Wanting is not enough.” She tells you after long minutes of silence. She goes to the bathroom next, leaving you more confused than before. 

When you hear the shower running you get up too, maybe you could prepare lunch and think about what just happened. 

It’s a beautiful day, August is the perfect month for many reasons but the weather must be your favorite one. On your way to the kitchen you chance a look at the door and you see the rust around the edges, which wasn’t there before. 

…

When you return to the Compound, a week later, Natasha and Daisy are both waiting in the garage. Daisy practically jumps into your arms the moment you’re out of the car and Natasha watches the scene with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

You’re both promising to never fight again before a mission and Natasha smiles at you as your fiance drags you inside eagerly.  

When Wanda walks towards her, Natasha crosses her arms, out of instinct more than anything else. Their eyes meet and Natasha swallows with difficulty. 

“You can’t do this to her.” She tells her through gritted teeth but Wanda doesn’t back down like Natasha would have expected her to---before August. 

“Wanting is not enough, Natasha. It never will be.”

…

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter xvii - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

masterlist

It only took two turns for Y/N to guess that she had already made a mistake and was surely going to get lost in this ginormous house. 

But it seemed to take even less time before she heard her name being called and Eris’ quick steps behind her. 

Y/N stopped walking, but refused to turn around. 

“We both know you have no idea where you are going,” Eris commented darkly from behind her. 

She sighed and turned to look at him. 

He took that as her silent invitation to let him show her back to her bedchambers. Well…his bedchambers.  But she could sleep in his bed for as long as she so pleased – even if he wasn’t in it along with her. 

The walk was 20 minutes of silence. And Eris knew better than to try and force her to break it when she was in such a delicate state. Little did he know, his silent presence was starting to comfort her.

“I meant what I said,” Eris finally spoke when they stood outside the door to their bedchambers. 

“About what?” She asked for clarity in a soft voice. 

“You are not a prisoner here.”

She just stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of lie. But found none. 

“This home is your own. Go where you please. Use what you wish. If there’s anything you desire, you need only ask.” Then he nodded towards the door. “There are clothes in the wardrobe for you. I had the seamstresses working all day and they were quite confident they got your sizing correct.”

Y/N blinked. “You…Y-You had them make custom dresses for me, all in one day?” 

Eris could not seem to understand why she was confused – and so taken aback. 

“Of course,” he answered, as if it were obvious. “You arrived with almost no belongings.” Only his cloak and the weapons he had gifted her. 

Then she opened the door in a rush and marched to the wardrobe, leaving the door ajar to silently invite him in. 

Y/N opened it to see the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. Yes, Rhysand had gifted her clothes while in Night Court. But these dresses…they felt more... her. And there wasn’t just dresses: there was an equal amount of pants and tops, as well. 

“Eris,” she whispered. “This is too much. I…I do not deserve such beautiful clothing.” 

To her surprise, Eris’ eyes darkened and he stepped closer to her. 

Then his stare went up and down her body – not objectifying her, though as if he was trying to find something he couldn’t seem, but she did. 

His amber eyes stared and she wanted to look away, but couldn’t. 

Eris voice was low as he slowly said, “I would like to know who in this life made you ever believe that you are undeserving of clothing.”

Y/N opened and closed her mouth a couple times.

When he put it so simply, it did make her rethink. 

“But it’s not just clothing,” she argued. “It’s far too lovely.”

“So you don’t believe you deserve lovely clothing?”

Y/N glared at him now, seeing the game he was playing. 

Eris took another step closer to her. And it made Y/N’s heart beat a little faster. She wondered if his fae senses could hear it. 

His eyes flickered from her y/e/c eyes to her lips before he said, “If there is one thing I shall achieve during your stay here, it’s to untrain that mind of yours and stop you from ever thinking you are undeserving of the very best.” His head tilted closer to her. “You should be gifted anything you have ever wanted. You…” He paused. “You should be worshipped, Y/N.”

He lifted his head back, giving her space to linger on what he just said. 

Y/N was grateful for it, because she was convinced her knees would give out at any second.

If her heart was speeding up before, now it was threatening to beat out of her chest. Her breathing was heavy, and she was struggling to control it. 

No man had ever spoken to her the way Eris just did. And she somehow knew that no one else ever would, either.

Eris took a step backward. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He bowed his head and left, closing the door gently behind him. 

Y/N stood frozen in place for minutes before she could find it in herself to move.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

The next morning, Lucien was once again guarding her door.

Y/N suspected that Eris assigned at least one of his guards while she slept, before his brother reached his post. 

This time, Lucien was standing and reading a book. 

“Do I really require a babysitter?” Y/N moaned. 

Though, if she were being honest, she’d recognize that she had no idea what she would do with herself in this place alone. 

Lucien smiled in that cocky way of his. Then he took in Y/N’s dress carefully.  “I see you are making use of your new wardrobe…”

She said nothing and only awkwardly shifted her weight as her face got warm. 

“I don’t think I need another tour,” Y/N announced quietly, hoping not to sound rude. 

“Good. Because I did not plan on giving one.”

“He must be busy…” Y/N thought aloud as she started following her escort. 

Lucien frowned. “It is not easy transitioning to High Lord, especially after this Court has been ruled by Beron for so long.” 

“Will the people accept him?” 

“It would be best if they did…” he hummed. 

Y/N paused and looked at Lucien with fear. “He wouldn’t…Eris would never…he wouldn’t hurt anyone for the disrespect if they did not…w-would he?” 

Lucien seemed amused by both her concern and uncertainty. “Doubtful. Eris wishes do abolish Beron’s evil, not renew it. But there are still those who will question his power and if he is fit to rule at all.” 

“But the Cauldron chose him!” Y/N argued. "The powers of Autumn Court are with him.” 

Lucien shrugged. “Sometimes the courtiers need more than that.” 

“Where are we going?” She suddenly asked. 

“To the kitchens,” Eris answered. “My brother nearly throttled me when he found out I had taken you on a three-hour tour without feeding you beforehand.”

“Will you stay…now that Eris is High Lord?” 

Her waiting gaze was nervous, as if she was scared the question was rude and she was stepping out of line by asking it. 

Lucien sighed. “My brother has assured me that one of his first acts as the new High Lord was to rescind my exile. I am welcome once again in Autumn Court.” 

“But do you wish to actually return?” 

It was obvious these were all questions that had been racing through Lucien’s mind. But it was also obvious that he did not have steadfast answers. 

“It is nice having you here…” Y/N admitted quietly, giving him time to consider his answer. But also offering him an out to change the subject, and not answer at all. 

Lucien gave her a shy smirk. “The feeling is mutual.” Then he frowned. “But you intend to return to the Mortal Lands as soon as Eris deems it safe.” 

Y/N stopped walking and frowned. “You must think me no better than Elain.”

“Well, Elain does not even acknowledge my existence. At least you actually converse with my brother.” 

It took Y/N a moment to realize he was teasing her. She looked up to see him smiling mischievously down at her. 

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps you fae will never understand it…”

“Understand what?” 

“The power of choice was taken away from us. We mortals live a short life. A bad decision – or the lack of choice – could greatly change our lifetime. Our lifespan…it’s just a blink of your immortality.” 

Lucien understood what Y/N was trying to tell him. And he wondered if this was why Elain pushed him away again and again. He was thrust onto her at her most vulnerable, ruining the life she had imagined for herself. 

“So…you are upset that the Cauldron chose for you?” 

“Feyre explained that mating bonds do not always imply love…”

Lucien wanted to correct her, to tell her that was not the case for his brother. But he knew it was not his place. Perhaps it was not yet love Eris had for Y/N. But Lucien could see it was quickly nearing. Without the threat of Beron, Eris was free to choose his mate – choose to love and protect her. If only Y/N realized that it was not a situation of the Cauldron forcing them together out of spite. 

“This is true,” Lucien couldn’t help but agree. “Throughout history, some mates have despised each other. But you have spent time around Feyre and Rhysand, Nesta and Cassian. Surely you understand the power the bond can mean for others.” 

Y/N didn’t respond, just remained lost in her own head. 

––

Lucien had snuck them into the kitchens that were bustling with energy and cooks. There was a little nook in the corner, out of everyone’s way. It was just big enough so two could eat together discreetly. 

As soon as they were seated, a cook came over with a shy, but warm smile. She appeared to be lesser fae, with almost red skin and bright, golden hair. Her eyes were entirely black though – no irises or pupils to be found. 

She bowed her head to both of them, the gesture taking Y/N aback. In both hands were two plates full of breakfast. She gently placed them down. 

“I will be back with coffee and tea,” she told them almost apologetically. 

“Thank you,” Y/N managed to say before the cook scurried out of sight. 

Y/N looked to Lucien with a questioning gaze.

“There are many who wish to meet the legendary witch who rid the court of Beron Vanserra.” 

Y/N scoffed. “I hardly even helped. I was more in the way than anything. The winds tell me it was you, Eris, and your mother who truly ended him.” 

Lucien’s face turned serious as he said, “If you think my brother could have found the courage to face Beron without you, then you truly do not understand your importance here.”

The cook returned, holding two giant mugs in each hand with impressive finesse. In one set was coffee and in their other appeared to be earl grey tea. 

Lucien gave a nod and looked into her eyes as he said, “Thank you, Marwyna.” 

Even with her red skin, she seemed to be blushing at such attention. 

“Yes, thank you. It looks delicious,” Y/N also urged. 

The two of them ate without conversation. If it weren’t for the bustling of the kitchens they sat in, there would’ve been complete silence between the two. 

Lucien could tell something had been struck in Y/N’s mind and she had no retreated there, thinking and thinking and thinking. 

It wasn’t until both of their plates were nearly clean when she finally spoke. 

“I make him weak,” Y/N breathed. “I am just a mortal. I could so easily be used against him. It would be better if I….if I just d-d-disappeared.” 

Lucien watched Y/N, reading her face to see that she truly believed the words she spoke.

But it would not be him that could make her realize how wrong she was. He would need to have a long conversation with Eris. Only his brother could make Y/N understand how important she was – to him, to Autumn Court. 

So, all Lucien stead was, “There is nothing weak about you, Y/N.” 

She blinked in surprise at his declaration. 

“Now if we are finished eating and feeling sorry for ourselves, I think a nice walk around the gardens would do us well.” 

A whisper of a smirk showed on Y/N’s lips as she nodded. 

—🍁—🍁—🍁—

“That is all for today,” Eris announced to his table of advisors as he stood. 

He could sense everyone’s mental exhaustion. But mostly he could feel is own.

There was…much to be repaired in Autumn Court. Beron ruled with fear and without any mercy, and it would take a lot to undo such philosophies. 

His mother sat to his right and gave him a sympathetic look as the fae bowed their heads and slowly took their leave from the great hall. 

However, Leonora stayed behind. 

Eris had already grown exhausted with his High Lord duties. Though he had prepared for centuries to have such power, nothing could’ve prepared him for the toll it took on his mind and body. 

Leonora waited for them to be left alone before she spoke. 

Then she subtly nodded her head to the other end of the hall that led to a balcony that oversaw the courtyard below. 

Eris held out his arm for his mother before moving. 

She squeezed his arm to comfort him. “You cannot change this Court overnight, Eris.” 

“We are moving too slowly,” he argued. 

Leonora smiled. “I know you have patience, for you waited centuries to for this opportunity. But you must still practice that same patience to mold Autumn Court for the good of its denizens.” 

As they walked onto the balcony, Eris was hit with the fresh, brisk air of autumn. The sun was nearing the horizon as it set for the day.

It was common for mist and fog to linger in this court.

And today’s dusk was no different, leaving a haunting feeling to the courtyard below. 

When Eris looked over the edge of the railing, he froze. 

Below were his acclaimed smoke hounds. 

Everyone in the Forest House feared them. They did not take kindly to anyone that wasn't their master. Because they were feared for good reason: trained to hunt and kill – if ordered. They only tolerated their handlers by command of Eris, since he could not solely take care of them himself – especially now that he was High Lord. Even his mother was careful around them. They’d never attack her, but they were by no means fond of the Lady of Autumn either.

But below him, the pack was surrounding Y/N, who sat on the ground as they all wagged their tails, fighting each other to lick her. 

Two pups from the most recent litter were cuddled on Y/N's lap, as she giggled from all the affection the adult hounds gave her.  

Then Eris spotted Lucien a few yards away from Y/N, with a look of exasperation. Most of his childhood Lucien spent trying to win over his brother’s smoke hounds. They only grew to tolerate him, never showing him acceptance or affection. 

Any time Lucien so much as shifted his weight, the hounds would interpret it as him trying to get closer to Y/N, and they would all let out a warning growl.

It made Lucien roll his eyes. And Eris swore he heard his youngest brother mutter, “Stupid, overprotective mutts. Of course you would like her…” 

“Seems like your hounds have brought your mate some joy,” Leonora hummed as she also looked down at the sight with a knowing smile. 

Eris couldn’t deny how much it warmed his heart. 

Perhaps they remembered Y/N from that dreadful day he found her in the forest. Or perhaps they could also sense that Y/N was their master’s mate. 

��

“There is so many of them!” Y/N giggled as the hounds kissed her face, tickling her. 

“They will not even let me pet them and look at you!” Lucien called out bitterly. 

Then a whistle pierced the air. 

The pack of one dozen dogs immediately retreated, forming a straight line, like little soldiers. 

Y/N sat straight and twisted to see that they were now facing Eris, who had stepped into the courtyard and stood straight with his hands clasped behind my back. 

She also jumped to her feet. For some reason, she felt like she had been caught doing something mischievous. But she still had the two puppies in each hand. Clearly, they were too young to know the same commands as the others. 

Eris walked further into the courtyard. “I see you have met my smoke hounds.”

Y/N quickly, but gently, put the two puppies on the ground. But as soon as she let them go, they looked up at her and started whining. 

Eris looked at the two handlers, who had been standing watch, and then at his brother.

“Leave us,” he commanded politely, but firmly. 

Lucien glared at his eldest brother. But still followed his command, giving Y/N a polite nod before also leaving the courtyard. 

Then it was just Y/N, Eris, and his hounds. 

Y/N, still thinking like she was caught doing something wrong, immediately stuttered out, “L-Lucien and I were just going for a walk when we came upon your handlers and the dogs. They approached me! I didn’t mean to disrupt them.”

Eris finally smirked at her. “You seem to be under the impression that I plan on scolding you.”

Y/N blinked. “Well…I…yes.” 

Eris wondered what he had to do to make his mate realize she could never do anything to upset him so pettily. 

He looked at his hounds and said, “Effrenate.” 

The hounds relaxed and all went to greet their master with wagging tails. 

“Animals seem to have a certain draw to you…” Eris noted as he kneeled to greet his dogs with pets and affection. 

“Most witches have a connection to that of nature,” Y/N mumbled, almost as if she were embarrassed by this certain trait. 

“So you have bewitched my hounds?” Eris asked with playfulness in his eyes. 

“Of course not,” she quickly answered with a huff, as she picked up the two puppies again and walked toward their master. 

“Do you have names for them all?” Y/N asked. 

“Of course.” His gaze went up to the two in her hand. “That is Aspen and Brutus.” 

Both puppies tails wagged even harder at their names being called out. Y/N smiled down at them when she noticed it. 

Then he went around and listed off the rest of the names.

“Now that I know they are all so fond of you,” Eris began. “Perhaps I should leave a few of them to guard you during your stay.” 

“I wouldn’t mind the company. But is my safety really at such risk here?” 

“I should hope not,” Eris answered lowly. “Though it would ease my guilt from leaving you alone for such long periods of time.” 

“You are a High Lord. You have more important matters than entertaining me. Though I hope you start to take pity on Lucien and dismiss his duties as my personal jester.” 

Eris smiled at her subtle jab toward his brother. 

His smiles were rare before. But now there was brightness there that Y/N doubted existed before Beron’s demise. 

He was so handsome. Not that it hadn’t been the first thing Y/N noticed when she had met Eris officially in the Night Court. But Y/N would not be surprised if the power of being a High Lord somehow enhanced his looks.  

Eris’ amber eyes almost glow with a warmth that only ever seemed to be directed toward her. And his cloak-like jacket fit his body perfectly, showing off his posture and strong presence. He would immediately be noticed in any room he walked into.

“You should never hide your smile,” Y/N blurted out before she could stop herself.

Her eyes widened in embarrassment when she realized what she had just said aloud.

“Excuse me,” she quickly added. “I should not say such things so carelessly.” 

But Eris ignored her apology. “Whatever smiles you see are your doing.” 

Y/N's face warmed at his implication. 

But then something dark suddenly clouded her face. “I should return to my rooms.”

Eris stood up from his dogs. “Will you not join me for dinner?” 

Y/N carefully placed the two puppies in Eris’ grasp and only looked at them as she answered, “I would like to eat dinner alone in my rooms, if that is alright.” 

“O-Of course,” was all Eris could manage to say back. 

What would he do instead? Force her to have dinner with him? Is that not what Tamlin did when Feyre was imprisoned in Spring Court? Or at least, that is what Eris had heard. 

Had he said something to upset her? 

“Your training,” Eris called out before Y/N could fully escape the courtyard. 

She turned to him, brow wrinkled with clear confusion. 

“Do you wish to continue your training?” Eris clarified. 

Even though it was just the two of them, Y/N still looked around the courtyard as if she would find another person Eris could possibly be talking to. 

“I would,” she finally answered slowly. 

“I will assign my Weapons Master to train with you tomorrow. He shall meet you here.” 

Y/N opened her mouth to protest. 

“Before you say some nonsense about not wanting to be a bother,” Eris continued before she could speak. “It would bring me great peace to know you are keeping up with your training.”

She just watched him for a moment. 

Eventually she nodded, and said, “Tomorrow then.”

––––––

*for those curious, the breed I used to reference Eris' smoke hounds is a Dogo Argentino. (I know most people imagine a grey hound, but they look like rats to me and I like this breed more. And they seem more badass anyways.)

Please write me a book report, comment, send me a message. They make me happy and keep me writing. Be like @pancakefancake.

Chapter XVIII

[starpirateee]

WAITWAITWAITWAIT YKNOW HOW SPANKOFFSKI IS A POLISH NAME

PETE OR TED OR MAYBE BOTH SPEAKING POLISH AND CONFUSING THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM

JUST LIKE, THEY HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION OVER THE PHONE THEY DONT WANT OTHERS TO HEAR SO SPEAK IN POLISH TO EACH OTHER AND WHEN TEHY HANG UP EVERYONE AROUND THEM IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK??????

god im insane about themmmmmm

Anon this is really funny in concept, the size of your mind is insane && I just hope I can do it vague justice

The major problem for Ted on most days was that his phone tended to ring in the most inconvenient of places, at the most inconvenient of times. another major problem was that he often got so engrossed in… Whatever he was doing in the office that he forgot that he and Pete ran on completely different schedules, because his brother was still three months from graduating high school.

He'd been bunking off for the past half hour, and had been talking to Charlotte in the break room, trying to work out when a good time to see her again would be. Everyone who knew them tended to avoid the fact that she was blatantly using him as a fallback option because her husband couldn't— or wouldn't— give her what she wanted. People like Paul and Bill tended to ignore it, only because Sam was doing the same thing across town, with one of the Beanies' baristas, and one of his coworkers… Never at the same time, mind, but Zoey Chambers seemed rather unapologetic about it, so Paul and Bill had managed to work it out as fact.

Still, it was weird to see Charlotte with Ted. Because, at the right angle, it almost looked like Ted genuinely cared about her, and wanted to keep doing what they did to get her away from the thought of her husband for a while. That, of course, had seemed like enough total bullshit that nobody bought it, but they left the two of them to their well needed privacy when it came down to it. Only two people knew they were spot on with near enough everything they speculated about.

Ted leaned against the water cooler, sporting a little more confidence than would surely be allowed in a situation like this. Charlotte wasn't having a terrible day, and that meant it was that little bit easier to talk to her. Less Sam to think about… How did that bastard end up with a woman like her? And why was it that her situation was that bad that he was an upgrade for her?

He was going to think about an answer to that question, but his phone started ringing in his back pocket, vibrating way too dramatically against the cooler.

"Jesus christ-" He stood up a little straighter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, Charlotte. One sec, I swear- hello?"

"Hey, Ted."

That was a voice he'd recognise from anywhere. Pete, once again working off his own time and perhaps completely overlooking the fact that Ted still had an hour at work.

For the sake of clarity, Pete checked his watch and drew the realisation that the holidays were over last week, and Ted was back on office hours. His brow creased, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything then realising there wasn't really anything to interrupt in his brother's work life. "This a bad time?"

"Oh, hey, Pete. No, you're good, I wasn't doing anything anyway…" Ted went straight back to lounging, aware that Charlotte was now trying not to eavesdrop but didn't really have anything better to do. "What's up?"

Pete chuckled. "C'mon, when are you ever doing anything? You don't do shit! Especially not at work!"

"Hey! I do shit! I get paid to do shit, don't I?"

"… Do you even know what department you work in?"

It was a genuine question, and would've accounted for Ted's genuine laziness and reluctance to do any of the actual work he was sent… If Ted hadn't prepared for this exact eventuality several months ago. He'd made sure to pay enough attention in a Monday meeting to at least account for what depeatment he worked in, and what that department pretty much required him to do. He didn't have to work constantly anyway, and that was the best part. His main job was just… fixing the problems everyone else had, when they had them.

"Sure I do. Tech support!" He imagined the defeated expression that flashed across his brother's face, and laughed to himself. There were too many people around him to make the point he was going to make next without getting mobbed, so he leaned in a little closer to the phone, a smirk playing on his lips, and muttered, "Czuję się, jakbym był jedynym idiotą, który faktycznie się zakwalifikował… (I feel like I'm the only idiot who's actually qualified…)"

That prompted an unexpected laugh out of Pete, who was clearly around other people too, because he tried to cover it up. "To wiele mówi (that says a lot.)" He returned once he'd stopped laughing. The two of them had stopped questioning the other's occasional slip into their own version of mostly fluent Polish. They used it to their advantage, to have private conversations in public, or sometimes in reverse when they were around the Polish side of their family. More things could be said if there was the added bonus of nobody overhearing, and that way of thinking had helped Pete out on a few occasions.

Ted cracked a smile. "Ty jesteś gówniarz- (you're a little shit)" He managed to bring himself back into the conversation they were supposed to be having, before he and Pete managed to lose it like they always did, lost in the jesting and the back and forth that just seemed to get better with every phonecall they had. "You didn't call to insult my supposed lack of work, did you? What's up?"

"Can I drop by the office and pick up your keys? I must've left mine on my desk this morning… Took me till third period to realise they weren't in my pocket…" Pete turned from the phone to mutter something- a goodbye, perhaps- towards someone else, and Ted found it vaguely amusing that Pete had retaliated to his complaint when he was with friends.

"You left after me this morning…"

"The front door locks itself, don't worry about it."

Ted faltered, and then nodded. He'd figured that by accident once when he accidentally locked himself out after forgetting his own keys, and he had to wait in the foyer for half an hour like an absolute fool for Pete to show up after his study session. "Fine. You know where the back entrance is, don't you? My car's parked out there, you should recognise it."

"That hunk of shit? I'd recognise it anywhere,"

"Do not slander my car!"

"C'mon, Ted, you've had it like, twenty years! And it hasn't gotten any better in all that time…"

He was going to ignore for now the seemingly increasing pile of problems that it seemed to have every year. Wings that needed replacing because they'd rusted so hard last year, numerous little engine faults… And the suspension was probably shot after all these years… It was a hunk of shit, sure, but it was _his_hunk of shit. "You just wait till you get your own hunk of shit, we'll see who's laughing then!"

"I'm- I'm getting close, I can see your car. Thanks for this, by the way…"

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it, Pete. You better not lose 'em on your way home, I know what you're like…"

"Dupek. (Asshole)"

"Tak, też Cię kocham… (Yeah, I love you too)" Ted chuckled before Pete hung up on him with a scoff. He rolled back his shoulders and stood up from the water cooler. Charlotte tilted her head, and it dawned on him that she'd probably heard all of that. He shrugged. "My brother. Useless bastard left his keys in the apartment… Hold on just a moment." He flashed her a quick smile and sauntered out of the break room towards the lift at the back of the office. Charlotte didn't have the time nor the space to question the constant little jumps in language that may well have happened on both ends, because Ted was gone before she had the chance to think about it at all.

[evilhasnever]

I am on record disliking "centrist" LXC jokes, because they have been disproven by canon analysis already in better essays than I can manage right now, but I also don't buy "I can fix him" jokes!

Rather than "I can fix him" syndrome, LXC's attitude (towards everyone: his brother! his friends! his uncle!) reads to me as "I want to do good and make the best of our circumstances (within my power)". That means, for example, encouraging Wangji to make friends but still following sect rules when it comes to punishment. It means supporting his brilliant friend's ambition and making sure his angry friend doesn't kill him first.

None of those things include fixing, because I don't think he is under any illusion that Clarity will fix NMJ - he'd have to change his way of thinking, first, and LXC canonically has given up on this or never even entertained the thought (as shownfor example when he does not argue further in front of NMJ's mulish responses about JGY's abuse in Jinlintai, or when he has to concede to NMJ and other sect leaders clamoring for the Wen slaughter).

As for JGY? He does not need fixing, and LXC is the first to recognize that. His goals are worthy and his methods, well... are often the only ones available to him. So what he needs from LXC is just support and understanding, and tbh JGY gives back as much and more than he gets (as shown in canon with the rebuilding of CR, being his confidant, etc.) So LXC does not try to change him, because he believes in the man he is now and in his overarching goals being in line with the greater good.

Basically, LXC does not try to change JGY because he believes him to be right, and he does not try to change NMJ because he knows he won't listen. So I don't get where this headcanon of LXC as the "I can fix him" man comes from when he is just a decent guy who helps the people he cares about, supports his little brother's unwise decisions and protects him from repercussions, provides palliative musical therapy to his friend who is bound to die regardless, and is emotionally present for the man he loves even when he cannot do anything else but offer him a handkerchief in times of struggle.

Basically, "I can fix him" implies a naivete and a rejection of the reality of their circumstances that is in fact not in line with Lan Xichen's canonical diplomatic skills and emotional intelligence.

[frozenjokes]

🫵👊👏CONVEX KISS👊👊👊🫵

google docs on my phone (revised version) and ipad (unrevised. raw.) did not sync correctly and I refuse to reupload this so for a better read go to ao3. not much changed, but I tweaked a lot of word choice and improved the pacing/clarity/all the things.

CuteGuy’s debut was today, and it had gone great. It hadn’t been staged, Grian had made sure of that, but it was frighteningly close to the story Scar had weaved for them before when he had introduced the idea; HotGuy alone, outmatched, when suddenly, CuteGuy swooped in, turning the tides for both of them.

Hero debuts weren’t normally anything special, not in this town. Introductions that caught peoples’ attention were few and far between, often drowned out by other news, but CuteGuy wasn’t new on this block. Indeed, he drew a lot more attention by 1) Fighting with heroes instead of against them, 2) Defending HotGuy and fighting alongside him, and 3) Being a massive dick.

And people loved it.

Clips of CuteGuy were circulating everywhere; cussing out reporters, battering peoples’ faces with his wings if they got too close, telling kids they should really consider better idols than HotGuy, and plenty of other completely out of pocket interactions, though, nothing drew the public eye quite like the dynamic between CuteGuy and HotGuy together. HotGuy, well known for his confidence and charisma, was reduced to complete mush next to CuteGuy, desperately playing damage control and apologizing for every word that dropped from CuteGuy’s mouth. It was abundantly clear that CuteGuy was basking in the control as well, the shit eating smirk never leaving his lips as HotGuy was forced to trail behind him, sputtering through every word.

And Grian loved it too. He loved it. If it wasn’t clear from the videos alone; his head held high, wings poised confidently, the expressiveness of the performance, it was definitely clear when Grian came home, all but collapsed onto the couch, and talked enthusiastically until he just couldn’t stay awake any longer.

And words couldn’t describe how that made Cub feel. That Grian was happy. That he was smiling, even in his sleep, even after a tough couple weeks, even partnered with HotGuy, a man he did not particularly like. Grian was happy. He was going to be okay.

And yet, it was 2:00 AM, and he was still awake. Still scrolling through his phone, through clips, through every tweet and message that so much as mentioned CuteGuy’s name. He was so stressed. Cub had already started to break out; a little on his face and a little on his back, but he had no doubt it was only going to get worse, that he would never be able to stop worrying and thinking about every possible thing that might go wrong. So much. So much could go irreconcilably wrong.

Cub didn't want to put that on Grian, not right now when he was so elated (and also very asleep). But he wasn’t tired, and he wasn’t sleeping anytime soon, especially not like this, so wound up. He needed someone to tell him, confidently tell him this was going to be okay. To make him believe for tonight at least, he had nothing to fear. Luckily, he knew a guy, and also luckily, that guy worked nights often.

‘Are you working?’ Cub sent the message, a little more hopeful then probably warranted.

Scar responded instantly, with a striking amount of typos for a message so short, ‘m Up. Workinh. W’ and then after a short pause, ‘Wht up?’

‘Eventful night or?’

‘Ya.’ There was another pause, the typing bubble open for an awfully long time before a picture came through; a selfie of HotGuy, his visor cracked, nose bloody, and grin bright, posing for the camera. Someone was behind him, also posing, but Cub couldn’t see any of their face. Christ.

‘We can talk later’

‘Nonononow fine’

There was a long pause between this message and the incoming next, but the typing bubble stayed, so Cub waited, unable to help his own amusement.

‘dick and balls’

‘dick and balls’

‘I eat dick and balls’

‘OMNOMNOMNOMNOMN’

Cub laughed, but didn’t get to respond before another message came through, completely indecipherable in what was presumably a great panic.

‘TIOL PGOME A’

Cub had to assume he didn’t get to finish the message. Given the length of time that had passed with no new texts, Cub got the feeling it might be a minute before any clarification was given. Not needed, really, but the mental image of Scar panicking after his phone was briefly stolen was enough to keep Cub smiling.

‘I didn’t realize you were so forward. You’re not getting impatient with me, are you?’

‘NK���

‘p’

‘I’m just not sure I’m ready for that yet.’

‘PENIS!!!!!!!’

‘You make a compelling argument.’

No more messages came through from Scar’s end, so Cub had to assume he put his phone down and focused on whatever it was that was going down on his end. That was perfectly fine. Still, Cub found himself content to watch the endless loop of the bubble at the bottom left, infinitely ‘typing’ for better or for worse. Probably for better. Cub didn’t know how much time passed before another message came through, but the animation made him jump.

‘So sorry. Checking my phone during a fight was a bad idea. Kicked her ass tho.’

Cub lingered on the screen, allowing himself a moment to enjoy this, enjoy a world in which something like this could happen. Something completely crazy. Mostly wonderful. ‘Are you sure about that? You looked a little worse for wear.’

‘You don’t know what I look like.’

‘You sent a picture’

‘Oh’ Then a brief pause, presumably as Scar went to check the picture, ‘We may have both gotten our asses kicked. She’s worse off tho’

‘She looked fine in the picture.’

‘She was less fine after getting the wind knocked out of her and then getting shot. Tidied that battle up real quick. People don’t love fighting with arrows in their feet. Kills the vibe a bit. But I didn’t feel like dragging anything out’

‘Wanted to talk to you’

Cub took another moment to himself, to pause, to feel warm. ‘Could we meet? Somewhere close to me, preferably. Can’t sleep. Need a distraction.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Anxious’

‘I’ll let you know when I get there then. We can walk’

‘That sounds nice.’

Scar didn’t respond, probably already on his way, and Cub lingered in a moment of gratitude before getting back up and throwing on something a little warmer. He didn’t know how long Scar would be, but he wanted a little air regardless, so he left the apartment to stand outside while he waited. Dressing warm had been a good decision; the night air had quite the bite, but Cub didn’t much feel it under his clothes. It was nice. He felt a bit more like he could breathe.

It was only fifteen minutes before Scar pulled up in an Uber, chatting with the driver even after he was entirely out of the car, and Cub was pretty sure the Uber would have to drive away to get Scar to stop talking. But Scar did turn around eventually, entirely shell shocked to see Cub waiting there- it was kind of incredible how expressive he was for nearly 3:00 in the morning.

“Cub! Hello! You didn’t have to wait outside, I would have shot you a text!” Flecks of dried blood dotted Scar’s face and uniform, along with a nasty looking cut at his side, but he didn’t look bothered by the injuries.

“I wanted to wait. It’s stuffy up there.”

“It’s cold out here!”

“I’m not cold.”

“I am!” Scar announced, almost like he was proud, then waved one last time to the Uber driver before they left, “I wasn’t when I was working, but it must have gotten colder, or at least it feels like it after being in a warm car. I might freeze before I make it home.”

“Might bleed out before then.”

“Huh?” Endearingly, Scar checked his nose first, as if that’s what Cub would have been worried about. His hands were also pretty gross, probably from wiping away the blood from his nose before. “Oh!” He followed Cub’s gaze to the cut on his side, “You know, a cut like this is pretty rare! Not much gets through this suit. But it’s fine, I’m hardly bleeding. Trust me, I know my limits.”

“Well I won’t be giving you my coat if that’s what you were after. You’re gross right now.”

“Ah! Foiled again!” Scar snapped his fingers, and Cub rolled his eyes through his own smile.

“You weren’t getting it anyway, I like being warm. That walk you promised me might help you out though.”

“I-Well of course!” Scar waited for a moment for Cub to join his side, then began his aimless wander in what Cub was pretty sure was a completely random direction, “What’s on your mind then? You doing okay?”

“Ah, I’m a bit better now. I wanted to talk about Grian, but now I think I just want a distraction. The rest will pass.”

“Okay! I can do that! Grian had a big day, didn’t he,” Scar laughed, sounding a little out of breath. “He gave me a run for my money, I’ll tell you that. My people were not happy with him, but they were a little less mad at me when they saw the public reaction, so everything is fine on that end for now. Is he good? Glad to be home after all that?”

“Oh, he’s thrilled. Had a great time the whole way through and fell asleep in the middle of telling me all about it. At 7:00. I have no doubt he’ll sleep through the night anyway. Speaking of sleeping, do you just not get tired?”

“I’m exhausted. Took a nap though and was feeling pretty good, so I decided to go out anyway. And… have been relentlessly made fun of from 11:00 to 2:00. Everyone’s getting a kick out of CuteGuy it seems, but I’m happy to see it.”

“This does not surprise me. There’s quite a bit circulating about you two, I’ve seen more than one clip of you chasing after him.”

“What- Hey! I thought you didn’t watch that stuff!”

“I don’t. Usually. Tonight I do, though. Today I do. Maybe from now I until forever I do, so long as Grian’s involved.”

“Oh no, today was awful for me. I didn’t do a single cool thing- and everyone ALWAYS posts the flubs. I haven’t looked- tell me now I’m not allowed to look. Tell me I can’t look.”

“You should not look.”

“Augh!” Scar yelled, much louder than was warranted at 3:00 AM, but he didn’t seem to care, throwing up his arms in distress, “I need to be filmed doing something cool immediately or I’ll never recover.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad. People loved you. They were laughing at you, but they loved you all the same.”

“I don’t want to be loved when I’m down!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Do not say those words to me! I won’t take it! I can’t take it! I’m fragile, Cub, very fragile!”

Cub rolled his eyes with a snort, “You’re fine.”

“You know, you wouldn’t guess it, Cub, but I’m a pretty sensitive guy. Doesn’t take much to get me down, it really doesn’t, so you’d better be gentle with me, or I’ll be thinking about it all night.”

“I absolutely would guess it, actually,” Cub said, laughing at the affronted expression that colored Scar’s face, “Maybe I want to see you when you’re down. Parade you around all day like Grian did, whiny like you are.”

“I- Excuse you!” Scar stammered, entirely flustered in all the good ways, “You do not- You do not get to be so mean to me!”

“I like it when you struggle. It’s human.”

“I’d much prefer you’d like me at my best!”

“Believe it or not, I,” Cub paused, letting the sound linger, “like you all of the time.”

Scar turned a delightful pink, as he always did when paid any sort of compliment, which was very sweet, and a little bit unbelievable, if Cub was being honest. Scar had absolutely no reason to be this smitten with him, and that wasn’t a self-jab, it was just true. Scar barely knew him, even now; Cub hadn’t even see him much in the past couple weeks, busy as he was with Grian, working, and whatever else it was that he got up to in his free time. This might’ve been the first time they’d seen each other one on one all week, though, Cub wasn’t counting. He wondered absently if Scar was.

When Scar finally managed to stop stuttering, he spoke, again, far too loud for 3:00 in the morning, “I just don’t think that’s true.”

Cub snorted, a little incredulous, “You don’t?

“I don’t!” Scar said, more confidently, “I do all sorts of things you don’t like, I know it.”

“Yeah, because I tell you when you’re doing something stupid or dumb or annoying.”

“Exactly!” Scar said, brightening, like this proved his point.

“You can be stupid, dumb, and annoying sometimes and also be liked in all your forms, Scar. Good or bad or getting your ass kicked, my love isn’t that conditional. I can not like something you’re doing, and still like you.”

“No, I don’t think so. See, you’re getting annoyed at me right now!”

Cub knit his eyebrows, indeed, getting annoyed, “Scar, that’s not how love works. Think about Grian, right? He does things that piss me off, that worry me, that make me want to pull out my hair, all the time, and I still like all of him. You like him too, thorns and all, I know you do. You don’t just stop when you’re being challenged.”

Scar considered him thoughtfully, looking at his hands still stained by dry blood. His own expression was strained, like this was an incredibly difficult thing for him to understand, which, on second thought, was a little concerning.

“Okay,” he said, though Cub got the impression he still didn’t quite understand.

Cub hummed, thinking. “Let’s take your hands, yeah? They don’t look great right now, do they. Do you like having bloody hands?”

“Uh,” Scar looked up, then back at his hands, “No. Not really. Gets itchy after a while.”

“Itchy. That’s good. I wouldn’t like itchy hands either. But you still like your hands, don’t you? They’re not unappealing as parts of your body just because they itch from time to time.”

“Guess not.”

“But if they itched all the time, or they were always covered in dried blood that flaked off everywhere and got in your food and your bed, that would probably be a little gross. You’d probably like them a lot less if they were always causing you problems. But they’re not always covered in blood. They don’t always itch. So it’s not that big of a deal, right? You can get frustrated with people and still like all of them. You’ve been frustrated with me before, I know it. That doesn’t change how you feel about me. People aren’t so volatile.”

Scar nodded, a little more firmly. “Okay,” he said, sounding a little more like he meant it. Cub was satisfied.

“I’m curious,” he started, hoping to move on to something lighter, “What’s your civilian life like? I feel like you have such a large presence as HotGuy, it’s hard for me to imagine what you do when you’re not being a superhero.”

“Oh!” Scar almost startled, but laughed, easing his own tension, “Well, it’s not very exciting, I’ll tell you that much. I am HotGuy most of the time, I mean.. work is work, and that’s a big chunk of my life. And beyond just working, there’s talking to strangers and hanging out in break rooms and all the other fun stuff I can’t do as a civilian. But I do like to go out, drink, meet people. I love to dance when I’m drunk. To get lost in the loud music and just move.”

“Wow, I can’t relate to that at all.”

Scar barked a laugh, and Cub smiled, chuckling a bit himself. “Well what do you like to do then mister? Besides work. Well, I guess you probably don’t like to work.”

“Not particularly. I flip flop wildly from hobby to hobby, and I’m between them right now, though I’ve started falling down a rabbit hole about fireworks, and honestly, it’s kind of grabbing me. We’ll see where that takes me in the future. In recent years though, there’s been a whole bunch of things. I like making games; card games, board games, stuff like that, I enjoy puzzling that kind of thing out. Space. I love space. I actually got possessed last year, that was kind of crazy. I like things that have some sort of creative-“

“Wait. Wait a minute. Possessed? What do you mean possessed. Explain.”

“Oh, I got sculk sickness. Grian got it too, but not as bad as me.”

“Oh- oh no! That’s terrible! That’s- sculk sickness is not the same as getting possessed, Cub.”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you, but we got along.”

“What- What does that mean.”

“Well, Grian got it like people normally do. He was very ill, itchy, had the stuff growing all over his wings, poor thing, he really hates stuff between his feathers. But that’s how it spreads, right? Itching, getting the spores everywhere. That’s how I got it. We were kinda both in the hospital- away from the city, that’s where they quarantine people. Could you imagine how bad a big outbreak here would be? Anyway, we were both hospitalized, and everything was fine, but the staff weren’t really used to people who just.. walked out.”

“You left the hospital? Cub!”

“Well I just felt like I should. Sculk patients are mostly bedridden anyway, and early on, it was only growing near my hairline, at my back, shoulders; not places that were super obvious. No one noticed when I left the first time. Or the second time. Everyone knew my face after the third time, but that didn’t stop me from leaving a fourth time. Or a fifth.”

“Why. What- what could you have possibly been doing.”

“Spreading the skulk, bay-be.”

“What?”

“Again. Possessed. I wasn’t hostile or anything- mostly just a nuisance, I mean, there was a whole crew dedicated to cleaning up after me for a long time. They had to put a little tracker in me and everything because I just wouldn’t stop leaving and wandering around the countryside. It was pretty crazy. I’m still being monitored, which is pretty funny, but probably for the best.”

“And you got out five times? How did the staff keep letting you leave?”

“Oh, way more than five time. At least eighteen times I got out at least. They didn’t let me do anything, but they just couldn’t contain me. They put me in a jail cell one time and I just turned the bars to sculk. The poor guy at the reception desk, he didn’t even have a mask or anything, he was just terrified. He didn’t get sick though, again, I wasn’t out to hurt anyone. Probably the only reason I got out so much was because they kinda needed a special team to deal with me. Can’t just touch someone with sculk sickness, it’s too contagious.”

“A whole team of people had to take you back to the hospital eighteen times?”

“Oh, not quite like that. Two people at most, though it was usually only one woman. I liked her. She had spunk.”

“How did they get you back?”

“They just asked. I was pretty compliant. I leave, spread the sculk, and on the way back, I spread more sculk. I was perfectly happy with that. I even went along with most of the treatment procedures, though, I didn’t want to sculk to die. Obviously. We were buddies.” Cub paused, smiling when Scar gaped at him, “I don’t expect you to understand. No one really does, and that’s okay with me. Again, there’s a reason I’m being monitored. Well, that’s one of the reasons.” Cub lifted his hair so Scar could see the hairline, still dotted with dark blue-green sculk, shimmering gently in the low light. “Never got rid of it. You’re not in any danger though, don’t worry. It wouldn’t produce spores unless I wanted it to.”

Scar stared, in such shock, Cub couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah. They don’t think I could do that. Despite telling them, I can’t actually produce the spores on command, so they think I’m safe. I mean, they wouldn’t have let me out of the hospital if there was a chance I was still contagious. The sculk by my hair is dormant, it doesn’t produce spores or spread, but I just know if I really actually wanted to, I could bring it back.” Cub smirked, “You believe me.”

“I do! It’s scary!”

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about. I have to visit my doctors once a month for some tests, as well as some experimental work, which they pay me for by the way, it’s great, and I get the okay every time. My doctors are quite exasperated with me though. In a good way. Like I’m a complete enigma and also crazy but they love that. Like if the cool bug they found on the street could talk, and also they could study it, and also it likes being studied. They do think I have brain damage though. They have yet to prove this. Grian also thinks I have brain damage.”

“I can not believe you were just going to leave this at ‘you got possessed.’ This is crazy.”

“I thought you’d ask.”

“Oh!” Scar looked a little conflicted on how to feel, which was cute, but he got over it quickly, “So how did you get better?”

“Grian told me I was going to die.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, not too glamorous. Honestly, everyone and their mother was shocked that even worked, but he just sat me down and told me it was not looking good. Having sculk growing inside of you is not healthy, and it was very much starting to do that. But again, we’re buddies, so I let them treat me properly.”

“We as in.. you and Grian..?”

“The sculk.”

“Right.”“I think once I wanted it to stop, it would have. I don’t think it would have killed me. Maybe that’s delusional. I don’t really care that much. It doesn’t matter to me how any of this makes you feel, by the way. If you’re put off, it’s your problem.”

“I’m not! It’s a great story actually- I feel like that might just be the craziest thing I’ve ever learned about anyone- good! Frightening actually. Does Grian get scared?”

“He was for a couple months. Very worried. Made me take the meds for the sculk while he was watching for at least two months before he relaxed a little. At this point he’s just accepted this as part of me. Doesn’t like it though. Sculk doesn’t like him either.”

“It- The sculk talks to you??”

“No, I’m fucking with you. The sculk doesn’t have feelings. It just wants to spread.”

“Oh. Okay.” And then, almost immediately after, “Can I feel it?”

Cub choked a laugh, mostly from surprise, “Okay?”

“You can say no, I was just curious. I mean, if it’s not safe to touch I don’t want to touch it.”

“It’s- That’s fine, you just surprised me. It’s safe, it’s safe. Here,” Cub pushed his hair back once more for Scar to see, who wasted no time before pressing his fingers, a little hard, mind you, against his hairline.

“It’s soft!”

“A little bit, yeah. Could you be a little gentler?”

“Sorry!” Scar withdrew his hand, sheepish, “Skin’s not sensitive enough to feel right without a bit more pressure.” Scar didn’t linger very long, curiosity still gleaming in his eyes, “So that’s been there for a year? Longer? And you’ve been taking medicine for it this entire time?”

“Well I don’t anymore. Believe it or not, it’s not very good for you to be taking glorified weed killers for months on end, so I’m not anymore. Weaning me off was stressful for pretty much everyone but me, but I’m still fine, so.”

“Oh, weird! I’ve never heard about something like this before!”

“I’m not the only case, but it’s rare enough that they still didn’t have any idea what to do with me. The oddest part for me is I remember everything, I wasn’t like, out of it at all. I knew exactly what I was doing the whole time. Spreading sculk. Just felt right.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Cub coughed, and then kept coughing, and Scar raised his hands in alarm, “I- sorry! I meant to have this be more romantic, but then I forgot how to touch people, and it was too awkward then, but I didn’t want to wait, y’know?”

“You keep surprising me, Scar,” Cub laughed, a soft wheeze, and Scar smiled, something so unfairly sweet.

“Is this really a surprise?”

“No, not really.”

“So?”

“C’mere then,” Cub couldn’t help but look away, suddenly overwhelmed, though while Scar did close the distance, he didn’t lean in anymore. When Cub glanced back, he was looking, and even through his cracked visor, Cub could see his lidded eyes, gently thoughtful.

“You don’t look very much like you did want this,” Scar mumbled, not unhappily.

“You. Make me feel shy.” Cub replied through gritted teeth, thoroughly embarrassed, but Scar only chuckled, a quiet, joyful thing.

“You make me feel like I’m on fire.”

“That can’t be pleasant.” Cub paused, glancing back, “This feels awkward. Put your arms somewhere, across my shoulders maybe. Scar did as he was told, mercifully quiet.

“It’s not always. I just had to know you.”

“I still don’t get that. Me of all people, I don’t understand.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Cub snorted, “No.”

“I didn’t think so. But I’ve weaseled my way this far, haven’t I?”

“You make no sense to me.”

“Still want to kiss me?”

“I do.”

“You sure? I mean it, I can’t quite tell when you won’t look at me.”

“It’s just really intense to look at you right now. Maybe I could if you closed your eyes.”

Scar did so, no questions asked. And that made things a little easier, Scar smiling, his arms draped loosely around Cub’s neck. It was nice. A sudden wave of confidence spurred him on, pulling just a bit to get Scar on his level and promptly bouncing right off his visor.

Scar jolted and Cub did as well, frightened by the sudden stop. “Your-“ Cub stuttered, “I didn’t realize it was so bulky-“

“I didn’t either!” Scar laughed, and the joy was infectious, “I’ve never tried to kiss someone with this on actually, but that’s fine, we just have to switch our approach.”

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“HotGuy hasn’t. Civilian Scar gets around.”

“Does he now?” But Cub didn’t give Scar the chance to answer, “Doesn't matter. You’d better kiss me before we talk all night.”

“Little did you know, this was all a ploy to get in your coat.”

“Shush.”

“Okay!” Scar leaned in, admittedly, far more gracefully than Cub did, and while it was still a bit odd to feel the visor against his eyes, Cub was playing far more attention to Scar’s lips on his; gentle, soft. There was a kindness there that Cub couldn’t quite place, but he wanted to be kind too, to show he was listening, and moved deeper, hoping Scar would feel it. Scar pressed forward in return, his arms moving to hold instead of merely touch, almost desperate. Cub had never been held like this before, like he mattered, like he was the only anchor Scar had left to keep his feet on solid ground. Goodness, Cub felt anything but grounded.

Scar had a way of pushing his insecurities to the wayside. Cub had been nervous, very nervous to kiss him; it had been quite a while, and Cub would never have considered himself good at this type of thing regardless, but Scar was the perfect lead, outgoing, but also patient, and Cub felt almost impossibly cared for under his embrace.

Just as Cub’s mind began to wander to Scar’s mouth, and what it might be like to explore, Scar broke their kiss with a smile, his grin only growing as he breathed, ragged and goofy. Cub found himself chasing Scar’s lips, though settled to let their foreheads rest against each other, only a little uncomfortable on the crease of Scar’s mask.

“Was that alright?” Cub heard himself say, words only Scar would ever be able to hear.

Scar took a deep breath, he sigh long and content, “That was everything.”

“How do you feel about tongue?” Cub didn’t intend to ask so bluntly, but Scar laughed, a breathy thing, and Cub loved how he could feel every bounce of his chest, every movement of his shoulders.

“I’m afraid that might get me a bit too worked up, friend.”

Cub smirked, unable to help himself, “Is it so easy?”

“With you, I’m afraid the answer will be yes. And that sounds cheesy as hell, but I promise there’s an actual reason, it’s just a little odd and I’m not sure we’re ready enough to unpack that one.”

“An actual reason? What a treat that would be, if you’re telling the truth, anyway. If your ‘actual’ reason is just ‘The first time I saw you, I knew,’ that’s not an actual reason.”

“It’s not that, I promise.”

“Well what, then, you’ve gotten me curious now. Can’t be any odder than the sculk, I can handle it.”

“That is not the same thing at all. There is no way I can say this without it sounding so extremely sad and unsexy.”

“All of these things you’re saying make me want to know so much more. And I think you’re going to tell me, you’d just rather stall.”

“I- Okay. Listen, so there’s a lot of people here, right? Not human people. And not human people tend to be pretty sharp, have you noticed? Grian’s got it all, you must have noticed. Sharp nails, sharp teeth, even his wings can get sharp when he’s hitting you in the face with them, which is an experience I’ve had multiple times in the past couple weeks.”

“So you saw that I was human and that’s why you’ve been so smitten.”

“I- a little bit!”

“That makes so much more sense, why didn’t you just tell me before when I asked?”

“It’s a little deeper than that! It’s like- you don’t have any edges. You can’t hurt me- I’m never afraid when you touch me- I mean- if you touched me- and that’s very attractive.”

“..Alright.”

“See, I told you it would make things weird, it feels weird, but it’s not, not really!”

“I don’t think that’s weird, Scar, I’m just wondering how many people have hurt you when you’ve been intimate with them.”

“It’s not that. It’s mostly not that. The only people that hurt you when you don’t okay it first are assholes. I just like to feel safe, and you look so safe all of the time, and I’m hurting an awful lot as it stands already, so things like flat teeth and dull, chewed up nails really do it for me.”

Cub couldn’t help but smile at that last bit- dull teeth, what a thing to love, but his eyes wandered back to the injury on Scar’s side, the one he had probably been touching on accident.. gross. But no wonder he was hurting.

“Is that cut bothering you? Come home with me, Scar, let me fix you up. Maybe I can’t do as good of a job as your doctors, but I can try to give you a bit of relief. A washcloth, at least, to wipe your hands and face.”

“Ah- no no, that’s not what I meant. I have.. I just mean that I’m pretty messed up, I’m kind of just always like this. In pain. Internally. Most everything else doesn’t really bother me. Do I love having a big ol’ slash through my side? No. But I just.. don’t like the threat of pain, you know? And that’s always a threat, every moment of every day. I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do than just relax, you know? Not worry about a single thing.”

“Noted. My offer still stands, though-“

“Noted!?”

Cub rolled his eyes, continuing as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “You told me you were exhausted when we met up, so why don’t you come and stay the night instead of trekking all the way back home. You’d have to be quiet, but I think we can manage. We’ve got a nice couch as well if you’d rather sleep alone. It’s treated me well for plenty of naps.”

“You- are you offering your bed?”

“I’m offering. But I’m a big guy, so you wouldn’t have much space if you prefer it.”

“If I could never sleep alone for the rest of my life, I would make that happen. And without my legs, I’m not very big, so I think we’ve got our solution, don’t we? I should warn you though, I am a serial cuddler.”

“Hm. That might not work. We’ll find out if I punch you in the face or not in my sleep. I’ve been known to be violent.”

“There’s a 95% chance that wouldn’t even wake me up.”

“Guess we’re a match made in heaven then, huh?”

Scar lit up, the change in expression unfairly hopeful, “Really? You think so? You think so?”

“I was joking, but I don’t know if I can say no to that.” Cub stared at Scar for a little bit longer, the other doing his best to look extra pathetic. This fixed him. “Moment of weakness. I can say no. No.”

“You know, I am quite happy with Almost Not No.”

“I’m happy for you. So is that a yes?”

“I would love to.”

***

“Cuuuub,” Grian called, knocking on his bedroom door. It was closed, which typically meant he was still in there, but he wasn’t answering, which was very unfortunate, because Grian had an urgent question, “Cub! Cub! I can’t find the toaster waffles and I know you wouldn’t have eaten them because I claimed them, so I’m going to need either a confession, or help.”

Grian huffed when he got no answer, pausing in his knocking, “It’s 1:00, I know you’re not asleep. And if you’re listening to music this loud, you’re going to lose your hearing by the time you’re forty. You forgot to send me your work schedule for this week also, I need that too.” He waited once more, but still there was no answer. Well. “I’m coming in, Cub!”

And then, muffled behind the door as Grian grabbed the handle, hardly even audible, “please don’t.”

…

That wasn’t Cub.

Grian threw open the door, shrieked, then slammed it closed, marching to and from the kitchenette, then back in, where HotGuy was cowering entirely under the blankets.

“Are you naked?”

“No! No! Cub just had to go to work, he just let me sleep, that’s all- We were up late, doing nothing, by the way, not that that’s any of your business.”

“Where’s your mask? Are you wearing it? Did you sleep with it on?”

“I- Yes, I did, and it was not super comfortable I won’t lie, probably-“ Grian didn’t give Scar the chance to finish, tearing the blankets off and assaulting him with his squirt bottle, resulting in many satisfying screeches. “Why- Why do you have that?!”

“For rats! Get out!”

“Like-“ Scar covered his face with his hands, “Rat rats or human rats- Do you guys get rats?”

“Both!”

“Okay, okay!” Scar finally started moving, but not very quickly, which probably had something to do with the lack of legs, “Give me- one second, will you stop it?” Scar reached a hand to swat at the squirt bottle, but Grian stepped back out of reach. He did give Scar a brief reprieve while getting situated with his legs, but the second that was over Grian began again.

“Did you bring anything? Don’t forget it.”

“This is so- unkind. You are not nice, you are not nice at all, you are mean. Why are you so mean to me? Cub likes me, he told me he likes me, so why can’t you just trust he has fine taste! I’ll buy you you’re fucking waffles it you just stop- I’ll buy enough waffles to fill your stupid freezer-“

“Okay. Bribe accepted.” Grian stopped with the water, pleased, “Go on then. I’ll text you the brand, and you can drop your peace offering right at the building’s front door. Valid for today only.”

“You’re joking.”

Grian raised the bottle, and Scar got right back to it, still hurrying, which Grian appreciated. “Peace offerings will be expected from now on, otherwise, I’d better not catch you.”

“This is unfair. Cub invited me over, not the other way around. I’m so telling on you, he’s going to be so mad! You’re going to be in so much trouble.”

“I doubt that. I think he’ll laugh.”

“He WILL NOT laugh!”

“Call him then.”

“He’s at work!”

“He’ll answer.”

“Fine!” Scar snapped, snatching his phone off the side table and swiping to Cub’s contact, grumbling the entire way. He brought the phone to his ear, glaring, and Grian smirked, spinning the bottle in his fingers.

“Cub!” Scar announced as the line connected, loud and scandalized, “Grian has just barged into your room, and since he’s seen me, he’s been spraying me with a squirt bottle even while I’m trying to leave!”

Silence. Then, over the line, he heard Cub snort. Grian’s grin only widened.

“Cub!” Scar wailed, pathetically desperate, “He’s coerced me into buying him waffles!”

“Oh, that’s good,” Cub said, and Grian cackled, doubling over, “I ate the last ones this morning and I did not want to get more. I’ll pay you back.”

“You’re not paying him back,” Grian cut in, and Scar was stuck looking helplessly from Cub to Grian, utterly, pathetically betrayed.

“Oh, and tell Grian if he got my sheets wet he’s got to change them. Thanks, Scar, I gotta run now. Have a nice day.” Cub hung up promptly, and Scar was left to gape at his phone. Grian sidled over, giving him a rough couple pats on the back.

“It’s alright, bud. It’s tough being number two.” Grian swiveled around, satisfied, “Now get on out of here.” He left Cub’s room, knocking the door enough to leave it halfway closed.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e6 rewatch notes - part 1

I'm breaking this up over two days (for length, clarity, and my own mental health) - I pause and scribble my way through scenes as I go, so there may be a few repeats here and there.

Natalie's bereft face in the opening, attempting to disassociate but failing miserably because that's not her coping style. She obviously doesn't even smoke by the way she's holding the cigarette, she just does it because - much like working inside a commercial kitchen - it's the only legitimate excuse for a break from the chaos. Both she and Mikey act like they've just exited the fog of war (because they have) and - unlike Carmy - they've never had the emotional or material means to escape it.

Sugar's "No one can make anyone else act a certain way" comment to Mikey - it's very clear that they perceive mental illness from very different angles. Mikey admonishes Natalie for her check-ins as an attempt to blunt/control Donna's outbursts, and Sugar's skepticism of Mikey's strategy of just riding the lightning/ignoring the outburst (while acknowledging that he and Carmy have more success, but she attributes most of that to being the female middle child of a grievously ill female narcissist).

Carmy coming out = a hot mess of family dynamics. He asks Mikey (innocently enough) to come in and handle the crowd by being "fun cool guy" and Mikey assures him that he will, but with a vacant look in his eye (no wonder this man was on drugs, what other choices was he afforded?). Fak is literally yelling indistinctly inside, upping the chaos, as Richie bursts outdoors amidst the three siblings to ask if "there's any family shit going on that he should know about".

Along with just trying to be ok themselves, these three adult Berzattos are a magnet for every other wayward adult-child who needs a home to reckon with their own trauma, and their inclusion becomes their problem as well and only ups the frequency of the despair. Mikey literally makes space for the three of them by dismissing Richie "for a minute", and you can tell that's not normal protocol.

"Would it kill you to pick up the phone?" - Carmy is already wounded by Mikey more than 4 years before his death. You can immediately tell by Mikey's earnest response (along with his previous discussion with Sugar) that he was just keeping Carmy at arms length to ensure he never returned, to spare just one of them from a life of hardship. In spite of everything else we see about Mikey and how poorly he manages his trauma in this episode, he is an inherently good brother who started early in inciting loathing in the person he loves above all others just to save him.

I wanted to peek behind the "Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us" bit, as you know damn well it wasn't selected by Storer by accident. The whole idea is that Mary, the Mother of Victory "pleads our cause with a mother’s heart and concern with whatever we bring her. Confident that Our Lady’s prayers are always heard we pray"

I may be reading too much into this, but that's a whole fuckton of power projected onto Donna. Even though it's said in jest, its maternal compassion and mercy that was never extended to the Berzatto kids. It could also be seen as "only Donna's prayers are heard and answered" (through the placating and emotional gymnastics performed by her children) so they utter this little prayer to her as much as they do to God - for control, for relative calm, for the day to simply be ok. They know better than to expect much more than that.

What is the actual point of Fak and Ted? I mean this narratively. I know that the Ricky actor who plays Ted originally worked on the set of The Bear in S1. Did the producers think they had an awesome "boys club" vibe and just plop them in as chauvinistic comic relief? Or is this part of a long-con? Do Fak and Teddy embezzle all of The Bear's money and retreat to Hawaii or something? Right now it's giving "Matty Matheson needs to sell more cookware" and I need a reason for this set-up, as the rest of the players offer more than enough relevant chaos to the episode.

Also, when they ask "Mrs. B, are our skateboards in here? Can we sleep over?" as Donna is cycling in the kitchen - Matty Matheson is in his 40's, so he time-traveled back to a rough-looking 35 to freeload off of his fake-besties Mom and aid in her spiral? I don't get the age timelines/ideas on what arrested development in this show are anymore....

"Say the fucking words" - ooof. I feel like a lot of ink has already been spilled on what the word "love" means in the Berzatto realm, but no wonder Carmy can't comprehend it even when it's right in front of him. Love to him is sacrifice and struggle, panic attacks, pacifying meltdowns, idealization and inevitable betrayal (hello other shoe!), and just saying the word because it diffuses an argument - not unlike rubbing one's chest.

So....what's the likelihood that the abusive chef at EMP is just a projection of Donna living rent-free in Carmy's head at this point? The way she lobs the ball at Carmy with all of the elements that need to be swapped when the timer goes off, the practical matters of running a high-pressure kitchen trailed with jests and insults and total emasculation. Yeah...I think it's pretty high up there.

The second Richie and Carmy trade off the homemade Sprite (before Carmy can grab the prosciutto and mortadella that his mom asked for 2 seconds ago) is just enough silence for Donna to feel abandoned and start unravelling again/start screaming about moving the pot. I can't quite place my finger on the weird amalgam of mental illnesses they gave this woman (hit me up, psych majors) but if its not over-scripted/acted, its a lot.....

Richie and Mikeys "Just take a break from being a mopey little fuck" - phew, these dudes really think that a high-school chick will be Carmy's salvation.

"I don't have a love of my life?" Carmy doesn't even flinch or show recognition of who they're talking about at first, and then it dawns on him that they've probably embarrassed him and he wants to crawl in a hole and die (which is the most honest feeling expressed this episode to date).

And wow. Donna intercepts the whole thing by throwing a spoon at Stevie and screaming "Richard, bring her the fucking pop!" - a.k.a the title of the previous episode with the house party. Those words ended the gang's harassment re: Claire, but then future Carmy willingly waded right back into the abyss of thoughtless conversations, bullying, projections, others' expectations, and the terrible Christmas.

Ok, that's it for now - I'll be back on my bullshit tomorrow.

[akutasoda]

hello! ^o^ i hope this isn’t too much to ask but I had an idea. I was thinking a little bit of angst with tecchou but not a complete angst, you’ll see hehe. so I was thinking, hunting dogs are in a mission, a very difficult mission and tecchou sacrifices himself in the middle of the mission and thanks to that, hunting dogs win. S/o is depressed and they go back to their camp that they set close to the place of the mission. Days pass after tecchou’s “death” and s/o every night goes so far to the camp and cries out loud and one day, before they go back to hq, she’s doing her routine of crying for tecchou all night and suddenly he appears in front of her, he didn’t die! He almost die but for a miracle he could escape! And then she cries louder hugging him🧍🏻‍♀️I hope is good enough for you

never do that again

synopsis - all this time you thought he had died a sacrifice but maybe this wasn't a cruel trick

includes - tecchou

warnings - gn!reader, angst to slight comfort, mention of blood and injury, crying, wc - 1k

a/n: hello! no idea is too much! i love to see all the ideas in my inbox, sometimes i think they're better tha mine haha

quite a few people would agree that dating a co-worker truly never worked out. especially with a job such as yours and your boyfriend's. however the difference for you two was that you both were well aware of the risks but had the confidence that it would work out no matter what issue was presented.

even when it came to balancing your shared personal life with the shared worklife it never really affected the relationship, and not to credit yourselves to much but you both reconned that you handled it very well.

that being said, issues were going to arise one way or another. it just so happened that this one was particularly damaging. an issue had arised quite far away and had led to the involvement of the hunting dogs as a last resort. this meant you and your co-workers would have to be set up elsewhere for a short period of time while the issue was resolved.

there was no big deal initially for anyone, you all reconned that ot eould go smoothly and be back in no time. however it seemed the description of the mission only scratched the surface of the issue. leading to a longer stay and a much dreaded bloody conflict.

no ome expected it to result in a rather violent resolve. but there was no changing that. and tecchou had understood pretty quickly that if he saw an opportunity to end this as quickly as possible he would do so, no matter the consequences. to keep you safe and to ensure justice was enforced. and he saw an opportunity, a less than favourable one but again it was an opportunity. he successfully had managed to leave an opportunity for you and your fellow hunting dogs to swifly win the battle but to you, it was not worth it.

you had finished the battle in an anger consumed state. your mind clouded over with sadness and rage at having witnessed tecchou, the love of your life, sacrifice himself in the middle of the battle. seeing his bloody, presumed, lifeless corpse had broke something within you. but the battle had meant no one had time to retrieve him. this further upset you. with the post-battle clarity washing over, you you melted into a puddle of tears.

your colleagues looked upon you in sorrow and had to escort you back to get you to safety instead of the battlefield. and back at the temporary camp, they left you be as they knew you had to get it out your system. they did offer support but you were too distraught to listen. sealing yourself in your area and crying your heart out and the loss of your loved one. your colleagues hearts couldn't help but feel your sorrow aswell when they heard you sobbing late into the night.

days had passed, not that you noticed however. your eyes were puffy from crying and you looked like a mess but you hardly cared. tecchou's death had lead to the hunting dogs swiftly clearing up the rest of the mission, letting you grieve. and before you knew it one of them informed you that it was over and you would be returning in the morning. you hardly cared. tecchou was dead and nothing felt real anymore.

however, tecchou wasn't dead. he had awoke a few hours had passed from the battle - he thought it was a few hours when in reality it had been a couple of days. the moon shone brightly above him as he hoisted himself up, steadying himself as his head spun from blood loss. now if it were anyone else they would've died ages ago, but thanks to the enhancements given to hunting dogs he had lived. as he glanced around the area he remembered what had happened, his eyes widening realising that after all this time you all probably thought he was dead. and upon this realisation he tried to quickly find base camp to assure them he wasn't dead, more specifically you.

you couldn't sleep at all, even worse than previous nights. and you thought maybe if you too a quick walk you could have another good cry, this time without disturbing your colleagues, then maybe by the time you got back you would sleep. you slowly walked around feeling tears start dripping down your cheeks. you were so lost on what you would do without tecchou, how you could just go back to your normalish life. as you were deep in thought you spotted a figure in the distance.

a figure that looked suspiciously like your deceased lover, your mind probably was playing tricks - how cruel you thought, bitterly chuckling to yourself. the shadow kept moving forwards, seemingly limping and the closet it got the more confused you became. until the figure got close enough to make out every single featire of your lover. was this a trick? you stood stunned, as tecchou stared back. how desperately he wanted yo pull you into an embrace but he knew you probably were in disbelief.

so he painfully opened his arms to gesture you into believing he was infact still alive and standing in front of you to embrace. you still thought it was a trick but you felt inclined to believe it was real. even if this was a trick maybe you could indulge yourself for the last time. cautiously returning the embrace, you realised this was in fact real. your lover wasn't dead and was now infact embracing you in the tightest hug. at this fact you couldn't help but feel your body wrack with sobs. crying into his figure as he only comforted you, reminding you that he wasn't dead and that he loved you dearly.

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 🎼 bonus chapter: "never mind, never mine"

notes. character study-ish narration, not beta-read

Kunikuzushi was one who had the habit of tiptoeing around the depths of his emotions. Either he never bothered to scrutinize them at a closer angle or he was too afraid to do so. See, that was the problem with Kunikuzushi, he was one for fear. He wasn't fond of uncertainty but never liked knowing about his deepest thoughts too much that it allowed him clarity to his intentions. Unfortunately, the somewhat comfortable silence between the two of you gave him the chance for him to slip into a dreaded thought process about how exactly he ended up falling for you like this, at the worse time he thought was possible.

This revelation only took four phases to come into fruition, to the finding that he actually liked you more than just a medical practioner to a patient, more than a friend to another.

One, jealousy.

Kunikuzushi was confident. His life was sufficient, he was living, save for the few major regrets that sat at the back of his head. He never had a reason to be jealous of anyone. Now that the envy he felt for you wasn't coming from a malicious place, no, god forbid he'd ever think of hurting you.

Kuni liked living with no regrets, he always thought about his next move. Much contrast to the first impression of being the impulsive and tempermental guy he was set by people who set their eyes on him, he was considerate of the consequences that his actions bore. Maybe that was why he absolutely loathed the idea of having a puppy crush on you, someone who was supposed to be just a mere patient, someone who he was supposed to forget once you either passed or got better. But that's what you wanted to do too, right? To live with no regrets, only except you were free to do it and he wasn't.

You were aware that he didn't exactly have the best mother-son relationship. He didn't like talking about her. All you knew was that she was the director of the hospital you check into. Kuni thought that his mother should be lucky he still finds the love to call her "mother" when that was the last thing she was. The hospital director liked having control in this one, she believed that everything would be a little better if she oversees what needed to be managed the most. Control was something that Kuni wasn't granted in the major parts of his life. He envied the way you were so free to do anything that you wanted, he felt bad that you were this sick, of course but he was jealous that you had an outlet for that. But thank the archons for you, for you were able to teach him that it was okay to ask for a little.

Two, admiration.

Kuni was someone who took pride in being meticulous. He was picky. He didn't like touching certain textures, he hated certain flavors. Just like that, he also goes through a process of thinking about who he truly admired and respected. Lucky to say, you were one of them. He greatly respected how you continued to live as if your health wasn't worsening day by day, he admired how passionate you were about music. He admires how the lights in your now slightly sunken eyes looked so bright whenever you talked about writing and producing, how you break out into the biggest smiles when you find that some of your songs magically (allegedly, as Kuni says) found their way into his playlists, plural.

Three, denial

You see, Kunikuzushi didn't come to the realization that he liked you romantically on a whim. It's been roughly a month since he started shying away from the idea. Again, he's a meticulous person, someone who thinks before he does something.

He thought it was selfish of him, to ask for such a relationship with you when your life was on a timer. He denied countless times about what he truly felt for you. He blamed it on the thought that he was feeling this things for you just because you were going to be gone in roughly ten months. But with that reasoning, he found it funny on why he would actually put his time and effort into emotionally staying arm's length from you. The day on the beach, he finally just… let himself feel it. It was way easier than hiding it after all. It was easier to accept and act around you, and it was easier to find ways to keep himself in check.

Finally, acceptance.

What else can one say? Kuni has already come to terms with himself. Maybe these four phases are yet to be added to based on what he does next. Would he let you know? Would he keep his heart to himself again like he always did?

He's scared, again. Kunikuzushi feels scared that he's going to lose you inevitably, he doesn't want to go through the pain of standing before your headstone. He fears that a part of his heart will be buried along with you once you pass. He wants to move on with his life, without you being a significant figure in his memories. Kunikuzushi wants to treat you like a patient. Being his friend was enough to already blur the lines of the boundaries Baizhu set beforehand, what more a lover?

Maybe being yours wouldn't be so bad, either. He would feel the traces of the little stars you drew on the skin of his palm. He'd be able to have the pleasure of feeling his heart skip a bit because of you at least a few times everyday.

But as the both of you sit down on the grainy sand, with the waves of the shore caressing the pairs of your feet, he wants to wallow in the silence with you for just a little while. He wants to relish in the silence before the storm.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee @lazy-sanns @sakurapeach @sheraffim @vxmp-loml @sukunasrealgf @sleepning @yukiipc @thenightsflower @aqvvas (comment/send an ask to be added or removed, please let me know if i forgot to add you since my notification feed can be flooded sometimes!)

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[i-heart-hxh]

I agree with your take, Killua being cocky definitely gives the vibe that he was praised for his killing abilities or physical capabilities and that was directly consider as better than his siblings and he was made aware of that; however, it also feels like the privileged position that he has compared to his siblings is totally conditional only to his potential of becoming the greatest killer his family ever had and eventually taking over the family business, not for who he really is as a person, that's probably why he reacts in a shy way whenever Gon says something good about him. The love or praise that he gets is totally different from the one someone like Kalluto gets from his mother, Kalluto doesn't have the expectations or responsibility of becoming the heir, but his mother still seems to be super close with him and loves him in a more "pure" way, if Killua didn't have so much potential he would undoubtedly be treated like a failure or a disappointment. That makes me wonder, do you think Kalluto was Silva's and Kikiyo's last attempt at having a child with the same or more potential than Killua to make him/her the heir and not go through the difficulties of training someone like Killua? I feel like they would do something like that but would ultimately decide to focus on Killua after realizing he is still the one with the most potential and especially after the whole Nanika thing with Alluka.

Yes, definitely! I agree, I think he holds privilege in the family, but it's conditional and comes with many expectations. I'm sure they're loving and attentive to him (well, in a Zoldyck way at least) as long as he stays within the boundaries of how he's "supposed" to behave, but as soon as he shows sides of him that go outside of that, it's a different story. I do think the Zoldycks are fairly confident they can brainwash or force these aspects out of him eventually, for what it's worth, though they're obviously misguided in that belief. And I definitely think Killua's shyness around Gon's compliments comes from not being used to being appreciated for who he is as a person, rather than for his skills or achievements.

That's an interesting theory with Kalluto being a last try to have a more suitable heir. While there's nothing that proves or disproves this either way in the series, it's certainly a possibility. I actually wish we had more insight into the Kikyo/Kalluto dynamic, it's fascinating to me how he almost seemed like a doll she dressed up in the early parts of the series, and I wonder if his gender non-conformance comes from his admiration of her or something about the way she treats him. (Or just Togashi liking to include androgynous characters!) It's surprising to me that he ultimately split off to join the Phantom Troupe after being so clingy with her. It's possible part of his desire to bring Killua back is for her sake, though he seems to have his own reasons as well. I hope we'll get more clarity on his goals and character in this arc!

[airi-p4]

Father

Hi! I wrote this short story. Enjoy?

Summary:

Juleka and Luka talk about parenthood.

AO3

_____________________________

Since Juleka and her twin brother Luka moved to their respective apartments with their respective partners, it was only Anarka, their mother, who lived on the Liberty- the eccentric ship moored on the waters of the Seine. 

Juleka liked visiting her old home and meeting the family. Once a month, they met there, the three of them, like old times.

That day, when Juleka stepped in, her mother was out and her brother was at the counter of the kitchen, brows furrowed, his coffee getting cold in front of him.

"Luka?"

"Oh, hi Jules…" Luka sighed. 

"What's wrong?" Juleka took a seat beside him. 

"Marinette is pregnant," he said.

"Yes, I know?" Juleka blinked, confused. "You two told us the other day, remember? Or have you forgotten how we had to stop Mom from almost firing some fireworks up to the sky through the Liberty's pirate cannons?"

"As if anyone could forget that…" he grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

"Right?" Juleka snickered. "Besides, it's because of that that now I have to stop Rose from buying every pink or cute baby clothes she sees" she groaned. "Congratulations, anyway" she elbowed him.

"Yeah, thanks…" he sighed again.

"What's troubling you?" She worried. He hesitated before answering and that was rare.

"I'm not sure if I'm going to be a good father…" he finally said.

"What?" 

"What if I can't be a good father, Juleka?" He looked at her, unusually altered. "What if I'm not enough? Or what if-?"

"That's nonsense" she cut him off.

"I've never had a decent paternal figure, Jules- you know that better than anyone. And sure, Tom is amazing but I don't think I can be as great as he is... I'm scared. I don't know what to do…"

"I think nobody does in this situation, really" she shrugged. His eyes darted to focus on her. "You're becoming a father for the first time, it's normal for you to worry or to panic, even," she took a pause. "But you're gonna be fine". She smiled softly.

"How can you know? You can't be certain about that"

"I am," she reassured. "You've always been there for me, mom, Marinette and our friends; giving us advice and guidance, relentlessly supporting and encouraging us to follow our dreams, lecturing us when we needed to be scolded or warned, helping us to find clarity when our inner melodies sounded out of tune... You're a confidant to laugh with and a shoulder to cry on… You've always been there for me when mom or anybody else couldn't. You've been more than a role model to me, Luka: a paternal figure, too. For our friends as well- I'm sure of it. We love you and are very grateful for everything you do for us" she paused to stare confidently at her eyes. "You'll be an amazing father- I absolutely have no doubts" 

"Jules…" he teared up, moved by her speech.

"I bet you're going to be even more stupid after you become a father, though!" She teased.

"Hey!" He laughed.

"I'm sure you're going to stupidly love your kids like you already do with your wife… See? Extra stupid."

He couldn't deny it

"I bet you're going to spoil them so much" she smirked.

"I- Yeah, that seems accurate" he admitted with a grin.

"See? You have nothing to worry about. You'll be an excellent father, Luka, like you are an amazing brother to me. The best I could ever ask for"

"Jules… Thank you" he hugged his sister tightly. "You're the best sister I could ever had, too. I love you"

"I love you too, dumbass" she hugged him back, affectionately. 

The twins kept hugging for a long minute, like that time, when they were just little children, and Juleka would cry over being bullied and missing a father. That time, Luka hugged her as tight as he could and, it was then when he decided that, from now on, he would protect Juleka and his loved ones at all costs.

"But the way-" Juleka broke the silence. "I want you to know that I'm going to be a very loving and spoily aunt too. Same with Rose" she proudly proclaimed, pulling apart.

"Sure. No complaints here" he chuckled.

"Good" she joined his laugh.

Both of them failed to see Anarka taking a photo of their hug. Emotional, she took a moment to wipe off her tears before greeting her children and pulling them into another, bigger, hug.

____

"I'm back-" 

Marinette had almost no time to leave the keys at the entrance when Luka quickly tackled her into a tight hug.

He took his wife by surprise. "Luka? What's wrong?"

"I'm going to love and spoil you two so, so much…" he hugged her tightly.

"Three" 

"Huh?" He rised his head to look at her. "Three…? You mean…? Your visit to the doctor with your mom…"

"Yes" Marinette giggled, happily pulling out an ultrasound from her purse and showing it to him proudly. "We're expecting twins!"

After a few seconds of processing her husband couldn't hold his tears. Emotional and delighted, he lifted Marinette's body in his arms, spinning her around happily.

"Luka! Put me down!" She laughed. 

He couldn't stop smiling either.

Twins. 

Like he and her sister. 

Twins he could doubly (and extra stupidly) love and spoil.

"Amazing…" he finally stopped spinning and took a moment to press his forehead to hers. "I can't wait to meet our children" he said, eyes to eyes- earnestly, affectionate.

"Yeah… me neither" she blissfully reciprocated. 

He finally put her down, and pulled Marinette closer in a heartfelt kiss. "I love you," he said. Then his hand moving over her stomach. "The three of you"

"I love you too, Luka" she gave him another warm kiss. "The three of you"

The Couffaine's family was growing - but so was their (stupid) love.

Fin

[starstruckwillows]

vitamins — will byers ♡

requested by 🐍<3

nancy wheeler x fem!reader, platonic!will byers, talk of homophobia, this is more will centric

you as will’s queer mentor

you’d lived next door to the byers family for a long time. before will disappeared, and your whole life became affected by the dead remains of the upside down.

despite being closer in age to johnathan, the youngest boy was the one you’d bonded with the most. you’d spent many nights watching films with him while his family were all working. when he was rescued, you were one of the only people he still knew how to talk to.

and maybe, he’d go on to admit to you later, he felt comfortable with you because of the rumours.

the girlfriend, gay, queer, rumours that flocked around an unbothered you. will just hoped they were true as he sat on your bed, waiting for joyce or johnathan to pick him up. he decided it was time to tell someone, and at least you couldn’t disown him.

while he flicked through a comic, you grew bored of your chemistry homework. you concluded you’d ask nancy for help later.

“talk to me, will,” you sighed dramatically, “my brain’s gone numb.”

he laughed half-heartedly, “yeah. so... i’m in love with mike.”

you choked on the water you’d only just reached for, banging your chest as tears spilt down your cheeks. will stood up in concern but you waved him off, “no, i’m fine. that was sudden.”

he shrugged, not meeting your eye and sheepishly apologizing, “well, i didn’t mean to kill you.”

“just, say that again for me.”

“i’m in love with mike.”

you leaned against the back of your chair, “huh. you want to know what i honestly think about that, will?”

he felt his stomach drop. here came the bad news, “yeah?”

“you could do better.”

“than boys?”

“what? no, than mike.”

will folded his arms, “why’d you say that?”

“no reason. are you alright?”

he only realised then that he was trembling rather violently. he shook his head and sat back down, pressing an elbow to his bouncing knee as he answered you, “i’m good. yeah. i just... you seem better with this than i am.”

you nodded sympathetically, “well, i’ve had more practice. i’m also, y’know, gay.”

it was will’s turn to choke now. metaphorically, because he wasn’t drinking anything, and he had also suspected. the way you said it so bravely... it instilled confidence in him.

“you and nancy, right? i knew it.”

you smiled, “it’s not really a secret. we’re just private. and slightly wary, considering the world we live in.”

will scoffed, “is steve, like, collecting lesbians? that’s three now.”

you laughed, “maybe he has a radar for them.”

“like... a gaydar?”

“something like that. anyway, i promise, everyone in our circle will be alright.”

he took that on board, but he didn’t tell anyone else for a while. that was okay. of course.

you made a conscious effort to give your relationship with nancy more clarity within your group. an arm at her shoulder every known and then, honey and babe worked into your sentences, wearing her jacket, and, most importantly to will, referring to her as your girlfriend. that was something you had, were allowed to have.

all within your group of course, this was indiana in the eighties.

“does it scare you?” will whispered one day, as another news headline of lgbt riots appeared.

“sometimes.” you whispered back, with an arm around him. sometimes it seemed you needed will as much as he needed you.

the young boy looked defeated, “i feel ostracized as it is. what’s worse than zombie boy? gay zombie boy.”

“i get it, man. i mean, i don’t, because i wasn’t kidnapped by a sentient alternate reality,” he laughed at that, thankfully, “but i’m here for you. you aren’t alone.”

he asked you what he should do, then. you joked, “drink milk and take your vitamins? i don’t know.”

will sighed, “i have a boyfriend, now. would you want to meet him.”

“of course i would.”

🏷️ — @lil-quinnie @echoloidsblog @sw34terw34ther @river13254

[hardstraykidshours]

skz & how often they would have hook ups

pairing: no pairing - this is just an ot8 headcanon (not member x member)

genre: smut, headcanon, 18+ (minors dni)

length: 665

warnings: profanity, mentions of drinking, implied masturbation, lotsw of talk about hook ups and one night stands, suggestive/sexual content, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

minho

this man would low key be an absolute slut. he would be fucking as often as he can with his busy schedule. even when he’s absolutely slammed with tours, comebacks, etc. he'd be finding a way to fit in a good fuck. literally anywhere anytime. random closet before a concert? check. empty practice room after hours? check. a fucking hotel lobby bathroom? check but just that one time. almost exclusively would have one-night stands. would only fuck the same person twice if the sex was absolutely out of this world, and even then he would stop after two. you better not catch feelings cuz he sure as hell won't.

2. seungmin

he low key would have so many hook ups and it would surprise everyone, including him. his post nut clarity would literally be him just thinking about he let this happen again lmao. big difference between seungmin and minho is that minho would be doing literally anything and everything to find time to fuck whereas seungmin would only hook up if he knows he has time in his busy schedule. looooooots of drunk hook ups and messy sex in borderline public places (i.e. club bathroom).

3. hyunjin

he definitely would love a good hook-up but would often opt for a nice night in instead. major homebody. he also would not be hooking up if it’s going to bring him any added pressure. in his eyes, sex should relieve his stress, not add to it. if he didn't have time or it didn't seem to be working out, he wouldn't do it. if his schedule was really packed, he’d rely on a nice hot shower and his hand until things die down.

4. jisung

he absolutely loooooves sex, but he would get in his head too much to sleep around as much as the top three. one night stands with strangers make him nervous, so he would be more likely than the others to circle back and fuck someone he already has in the past. he would keep a list in his phone of the best hookups in every city, so when he’s touring he would always have someone on standby that’s going to be a good lay. but he would have to work himself up to make the booty call.

5. changbin

this guy wouldn't be a big fan of random hook-ups and one-night stands. he would want the same person over and over again, so he can get to know them in bed - what they like, what they don’t, etc. he would want the comfortability that comes with sleeping with only one person, but he would not be catching feelings, so it’d always be a friends with benefits kind of situation that will usually end after a few months.

6. chan

our best leader would be too damn busy to fuck most of the time. he definitely would want to fuck around, so if given the time, he would be #2 on this list. unfortunately, he will always sacrifice himself for the group, so he would always be spending his time working instead of fucking. during the short periods of time where they do have a small break and aren’t on tour or preparing for a comeback, he would be having a different hook-up almost every night if possible, but the second their works starts again, he would go back to his dry spell.

7. jeongin

he would be newer to the idea one-night stands, so he wouldn't be confident enough to have them often. he would have a few here and there, but they'd be pretty rare. he really would want to find a partner who he can learn with, and that just isn't always the case if he were to be constantly hooking up.

8. felix

no. he would not be hooking up with someone random. he would have a single one night stand while on tour and would immediately catch feelings, so then he would be too stressed and scared to ever do it again. felix would be more a "find the right person and settle down" kind of guy.

[righteousness-and-tea]

shuichi + 🍷 for the event pls?

also I'm sorry I didn't say this earlier but congrats on 200!! you def deserve it your work is amazing and I'm so excited to see what else you create!! 🫂

-🍋anon

Thank you so much for your kindness, 🍋 anon! It's been a joy to write for everyone. Also, I'm super excited to write this one... Shuichi is one of my favorites, actually. I'm not sure if I've said much about what characters I like! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :)

-Mod Celeste

200+ Followers Event: Drunken confession from Shuichi!

(For the sake of clarity, everyone mentioned is of legal drinking age! Also, Mod Celeste says to drink responsibly!)

Shuichi is not usually a drinker. He'll join Kaito and Rantaro at the bar every so often, though he's the designated driver pretty much every time. Not that he minds, of course. He'd hate to lose his inhibitions.

Last time the guys got together, Kaito told him about the annual class reunion in a few weeks. Despite the... quirkiness of his graduating class, Shuichi does still like seeing them every so often. Also, you would be there-- and he's been thinking about catching up since you are often out of the county for work.

"I know you'll be there dude-- y/n already RSVP'd." Kaito laughed as he smacked him in the shoulder.

So, once the day came, there he was. The reunion was usually held at a nice hotel's convention center. A fairly dressy event, but that didn't stop Gonta from not wearing shoes... "you have to admire his consistency," Shuichi thought. It put him at ease to see old friends.

He was making small talk with Maki when you arrived. Dressed sharply and beautiful as ever, his heart stopped at the sight of you. But it had been so long... what would you even talk about? Heck, would you remember him? The anxiety filled his mind.

Kokichi, observant as ever, saw him in this state. He scampered over, mischievous intentions clear, and struck up a conversation. "Heeeeey buddy, cat got your tongue?"

Startled, Shuichi stuttered out a response. "O-oh, uh... yeah, I suppose. Just a bit out of my element, haha." That was an understatement.

"Well... I think I know just the thing. Loosen up, will ya?" With his devious little smile, he passes Shuichi a glass of champagne. In a moment of weakness, he downed the whole thing. Though, it did help.

Looking for some better solace than Kokichi, the detective found Kaito and Maki once again. He saw you talking to the hotel staff, friendly and warm. They could tell Shuichi was a bit shaken, so the pair sat him down and tried to help.

"Listen, man. I know you've got the hots for y/n, so you should be honest!" Kaito was a pretty straightforward guy, for better or worse.

"Now now, Kaito. It's not always that simple..." Maki, the more thoughtful of the two, chimed in.

Shuichi sat at their table, dejected. "I'd love to, but... what if they don't reciprocate? What if I do something wrong?"

Kaito knows when he gets like this, positivity is the remedy. "Have some confidence! You're a really cool guy, and they know it. Just show them that and you can't go wrong! That's how I got Maki-roll, you know." She rolls her eyes, but can't deny it either.

He takes the advice to heart. Trying to embrace the night in stride, he has a few more drinks and makes the rounds to talk to everyone. Shuichi had planned on saving you for last, in the hopes maybe he'd catch you alone. However, the nerves got to him, as did the alcohol. By the time he walked his way over to you (it was more of a stagger, actually), his cheeks were flushed and he had an unusual expression.

"Uh, hey there... y/n." He attempted the charm of a movie star, albeit poorly. "How's it been?" He enquired.

He was clearly a bit inebriated. You thought it was cute, though. The entire night you'd seen him steal glances, only to turn away shyly. He wanted to impress you, and you knew it. You'd had some chemistry back in school, after all. You humored him and answered, with the same "cool-person" attitude.

In his state, he saw this as a win. So, he kept going. Maybe not being held back by his rational side was a good thing? "Let's say we go over the balcony, you and I... I'd like some more alone time with you, if you don't mind," He winked as he took your hand and guided you to the secluded spot. The guardrails were strung with twinkling lights and the view was just stunning.

You asked what his intentions were, and he finally came clean. "So, uh... as it turns out, I'm in love with you. Crazy, right? I have since Hope's Peak, really. I'm sure you've got an awesome partner already though, so this... this is without hope or agenda, okay?" Even in his drunken state, some genuine thoughts slipped through.

Hearing the words after all this time brought you peace. You hugged him tightly, reassuring him you had nobody else. His red face turned redder.

"Huh? Wait, you actually--- huh. I didn't plan this far..." you both shared a laugh at that. The night had worn on very long, however, and it was time to get going. You drove him home, and tucked him in. By that point, he was passed out. What a night!

In the morning, he was greeted with a horrible headache and a note on his bedside table. It read: "Hope you're up for some dinner tonight-- I have an extended stay here at home. Plus, it's about time for a first date, don't you think?" Signed with your name.

The shock finally hit him. "What did I do last night?" Shuichi was partly mortified, but...

Seems Kokichi was right about loosening up.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Bridal-style" - Rhett Abbott x Reader

[TW: blood, minor injuries]

[1k followers celebration!] 😭

SUMMARY: Rhett agrees to help your father with some old barbed wire on the ranch. When you accidentally cut yourself, he throws everything away.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

The Sun was shining with its late-summer vigour, warming your face. It was those rare moments when living on a ranch wasn't an all-around-the-clock job that made you actually appreciate living in the country. Outside of big concrete cities, the world seemed a lot slower and more peaceful as if the countryside was a different, much more peaceful, dimension.

It was only recently that your father worked up the will to get rid of an old barbed wire fence that started to look more like a plant grid for wildflowers and weeds. In a way, the old chainlink fence with barbed wire could pass off as an heirloom, considering the fact that your great-grandfather put it up with his father.

Your father's will, however, ended at letting you help him, the barbed wire apparently especially dangerous to women, so he asked Rhett to come over one day to help take the fence down.

The whole situation became slightly funnier when one considered your relationship with Rhett and all the sleepless nights you spent giggling against his bare chest - your father had no idea there was anything going on between the two of you. Although the longer you waited to do so the more hurt he was going to be by the well-kept secret, you didn't quite think Rhett was willing to give a proper name for the affection you shared. If he did, the relationship would become defined in a way and with that definition would come certain responsibilities. The truth was, Rhett's attitude towards that matter would have surprised you if only you talked to him about it but you clung to that naive belief that lack of clarity about your relationship was incomparably better than complete lack of it; a certain fear of rejection rendered you speechless when it came to defining what the two of you were.

It was hard to name any other man who was alluring while looking scruffy except for Rhett Abbott. Something about that "farmboy grime" made him completely irresistible or perhaps you were more in love than you were willing to admit. On that day he was wearing a loose pullover that made you slightly cringe inside - it reminded you of one particular night when you had nothing else on except for that sweatshirt and all the events that took place then. Seeing Rhett in that sweater, working next to your father made you feel embarrassed.

Because of how badly or carelessly it was put up and the fact that Mother Nature began reclaiming it, the barbed wire was tangled with tall grass and weeds, camouflaging itself like a steel snake whose bites weren't any less severe than those of Racers and Garters wandering the Wyoming wilderness. All of that accounted for your blindness towards the harm.

You were carrying two cold bottles of beer for the two most important men in your life, the Sun was warming your face and it felt as if Heaven itself sent you that day. There wasn't a cloud in sight, just like no accident could ever turn that day bad or so you thought.

"Thanks for helping out," you said as you passed Rhett the other bottle having already given your dad one of them. His fingers lingered on yours longer than they had to. The way Rhett stared at you always made you feel a little shy - there was a certain intensity in his gaze, one that you naively believed belonged to the world of chick flicks, romantic comedies and Shakespearian tragedies.

"Anytime," he answered casually but you noticed a shadow of a grin on his face. It seemed as though he was enjoying the neighbourly favour but it should come as a surprise: the weather was great and a pretty girl gave him a cold beer. Rhett quickly chased away some of the bolder thoughts that, perhaps, that one day could be a glimpse into the future if he worked up the confidence to get you a ring. Although he was very fond of those wandering fantasies, he regarded them as too forward in the light of the current, generally undefined, state of your relationship. In some way it was quite humorous: somehow he accepted the fact that you were spending most of your afternoons and nights with him but couldn't find the faith in his heart to believe that you, too, could ever want him as someone more.

You weren't looking at your feet and that was perhaps your first mistake. The toasty Sunlight on your face was simply too pleasant and invigorating to force your head to bow. Besides, the unmowed grass was a little too tall to see steel wires coiling on the ground.

The sensation was short at first, nothing more severe than a papercut. Then, there was a second when you didn't feel anything remotely unpleasant and so you discarded the bizarre sharp pain as nothing important. Only when you took another step did you begin to feel a burning, pulsating sensation. Your leg felt wet but dawn was too far away for it to be simply leftover dew.

"Ah, shit," you said to yourself but the light wind must have carried your words a little farther as Rhett was startled aware of the unforeseen turn of events. No doubt you were going to have another scar.

"You alright?" Rhett called out to you but judging by his quick movements toward you, he cared very little for your upcoming answer which he knew perfectly well was going to downplay what had happened.

"Just a little blood, I ain't dyin' just yet."

Without continuing the conversation, he simply picked you up and began walking towards your house - it wasn't far, maybe ten minutes on foot. His reaction was completely unnecessary, as you were perfectly capable of walking on your own but you weren't going to tell him that just yet. It's safe to say that he knew you were thoroughly enjoying his overreaction when you wrapped your arms around his neck and didn't even try to hide your smile.

Rhett thought it was silly how weirdly responsible he felt for you. There was no fault of his own in your leg getting cut on the barbed wire and yet there was a pang of guilt in his chest as if he didn't fulfil some self-proclaimed duty of keeping you safe and sound.

"You know, you didn't have to dramatically carry me bridal-style," you finally said as he was rolling up your jeans. Although his hands were scarred and thick, mistreated by a life of farm work, his touch was beyond gentle as if Rhett himself feared he might hurt you.

"I know. I was practising," he answered without looking at you. Rhett had a habit of saying quite effective flirtatious lines but never while maintaining eye contact. There was a sense of insecurity in him, one that you could never quite pinpoint the source of.

He was taping some dressing over your cut, looking with worry at your face whenever you would wince. Rhett always tried to hide his emotions, suppress whatever was gnawing at his heart mainly due to the less than fortunate dynamics in his own family. The problem with the younger Abbott son, however, was that he wore all of his feelings and thoughts inside his eyes and quite often on his face. You could read him quite well and sometimes you wondered if he had ever realized.

Something about that well-seasoned-by-life man kneeling on your living room floor seemed funny as if he had forgotten to wear his bull-riding and lady-fawning demeanour. When it was only his eyes that stared at him, Rhett was as much himself as he possibly could - not a local champion but the guy that waited until you hung up no matter how tired he was and made you better coffee than you did.

"What's so funny?" Only after he asked that question did you realize that you were quietly giggling while admiring the cowboy that ruined all men for you - there was no other on God's green Earth that could even compare to him.

"I got Rhett Abbott kneeling before me."

For a moment, he laughed with you, surprised at the random thought you were willing to share. He had already finished dressing your cut but wasn't getting up from the floor for some reason.

"It ain't exclusive. Just gotta ask nicely."

"And what if I ask rudely?" you taunted him.

"Then you gotta make me," he answered. A mischievous grin crept onto his face as his hand began sliding up your calf.

"Oh, don't threaten me with a good time."

The front door opened just when Rhett's lips pecked your own. Had your father walked a little faster, he would have witnessed the exchange of affection between you two. Quickly standing up, Rhett cleared his throat and began walking towards the front door.

"Sir," he said to your father before leaving the house.

Your dad's stare followed Rhett as he walked out. Then his eyes returned to you or rather the bandage tightly wrapped around your leg. He walked towards the kitchen table and leaned against of the chairs, staring you dead in the eye.

"So, the Abbotts' boy?" your father asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. A blush crept unto your cheeks, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Somehow, dads always knew.

"Yeah," you answered awkwardly. There's always been a hint of embarrassment in discussing one's love life with their own parents. "It's... It's been going on for a while now, really."

Your father remained leaning against the back of the kitchen chair. He slowly nodded to himself as if he was thinking about something that visibly pleased him. A sombre smile appeared on his face.

"He's a good man. Needs to grow up a bit but he's got the heart." Having said that, he simply left the house to find Rhett, who was leaning against one of the pillars holding up the roof of the porch. "Come on, son." Your father friendly patted Rhett on his back. "Let's finish that goshdarned fence. I've got some old man's advice for ya."

Through the kitchen window, you could see Rhett's surprise at the new nickname. Knowing your dad, it was going to stick.