#why did i leave all of my fics off on emotionally significant moments........

[smallblueandloud]

^ about where my brain is tonight

[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[remus-thecreative]

Its such a long song we will just split this into 2-3 parts lol ANYWAYS enjoy part 1 of this late thing for #AroSidesWeek

Give Us Euphoria PART 1

Songfic (Euphoria by MUSE) 

Every side is aro-spec in these fics we create; this focuses on Remus and Patton. Obligatory disclaimer: this is based on both the source material AND our fictives (Rat and Frog were collaborators actually lol). They made sure to get each other's consent/permission to team up and write this, as should anyone writing about ppl they know irl. 

Content Warnings: minor injuries, self deprecation, talking about depression and dissociation, suggestive nicknames.

Anyways, enjoy!

Shut down

We are growing spiritless

If no one cares, then who is gonna save us?

Give us euphoria

Remus was really, really fucking bored. Not just in general, but emotionally it felt like someone had squeezed out every drop of water from its octopus appendages and left it to dry in the desert. More literally, he hadn't moved from underneath his own bed in… yeah he wasn't even going to try counting. Groaning pathetically, the side glanced over to its right, relishing in the sudden pain due to the fact its eyes had not moved much for hours. Pain was good in these times, was grounding and very real unlike far too many dark fantasies Thomas would never bother even considering. But, that wasn't the main reason he had looked to his right; no it was…. shit, why had Remus-

"FUCK! This is just sad, and I don't do sad shit unless it's paired with grotesque horrors!"

The words were nearly ripped out of its throat that was rather dry, frustration almost palpable. A fit of coughing was followed by the admittedly theatrical creaking of the duke's joints as the side crawled out from underneath the bed. Ew, physical exhaustion of the depressed variety. Whether he had the energy or not, he was going to get to the bottom of this problem that was becoming disturbingly clear in its source. Not bothering to check on the state of its outfit and grimacing at the still extremely empty 'dark sides' living room, Remus took in a deep breath and put what it hoped was a winning and deranged smile on its face while giggling out:

"I hope someone is ready for a visitor from hell…"

Worn out

Everything will fall apart

So shine a light and warm up this heavy heart

And give us euphoria

It hadn't been the best week for Patton, and if he was going to be honest, the near future wasn't looking that much better. Despite the continuous progress with everyone figuring out how to work best with each other, all the new discoveries about Thomas' sides, and the growing acceptance of many… it had taken a lot of emotional energy he hadn't expected. 

Honestly, his own shortcomings regarding being morality stung worse than what was left of his strained relationships; relationships in general had always been confusing and difficult for Patton. Never sure when the exact moment a person becomes a friend or lover, so he had always tried to be equally affectionate to everyone. Lost when it came to what's supposed to happen when a relationship ends or changes. Unaware if the annoyance or exasperation he felt from others at his puns were simply in the moment or a sign he had made a significant overstep, so he kept them all as harmless and cute as he could. Yes, Patton had done his best! Only, that wasn't actually the correct action. The right thing to do. He supposed it was all connected after all, morality and relationships. 

Which brought him to the present, a tired chuckle making its way past his lips as he realized he'd spaced out yet again instead of getting ready for the day. 

"At least I'm already dressed to impress! Well besides my glasses, where did I set them last night…"

Patton started off cheerfully, voice getting quieter as he stood up and searched the room with the enthusiasm of a cat sensing an oncoming bathing in a tub. Although leaving his room was a must when he wasn't feeling his best, it was tempting. Then again, he had plans to talk to a certain snake today, and really didn't want Janus of all sides to get worried about him, or even worse, disappointed. That should have been enough to speed up the finding process, but strangely enough he still couldn't find his glasses. Brows now furrowed, Patton put his hands on his hips and almost let himself get upset, brown eyes widening in fright as he caught himself. 

"No no no, I cannot be doing that! Not after the frogger incident-"

"-I think you mean the coolest shit ever that you should do more often, Patton-With-The-Cake!"

The shriek that left Patton was quite mild compared to the jump his body performed as Remus popped into his room. 

[curioussubjects]

come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen

Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version.  For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.

This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one. 

Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s. 

I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It

The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).

Seasons 4 & 5:

I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.

Seasons 6 & 7:

Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.

Season 8:

Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.

This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.

So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.

Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).

Seasons 9 & 10:

The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait

This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.

YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though). 

10.16 Paint It Black

From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […]  Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […]  Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…

Season 11:

The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby

Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”

11.11 Into The Mystic

I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters

And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.

II. Why Season 12

[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]

Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.

12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets

This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?

12.19 The Future

This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:

1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.

2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?

3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.

4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.

5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."

What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship

Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:

Season 13:

So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.

13.01-13.05

Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural

I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?

Season 14:

Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.

14.15 Peace of Mind

Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.

14.18-14.20

Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.

Season 15:

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.

And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.

Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.

"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."

[minijenn]

In honor of it being Sora’s birthday, I figured I might as well repost my favorite portion of Chapter 22 of Keys to the Kingdom since I wrote it roughly a year ago and it is, fittingly enough, focused on our dear boy’s in-fic birthday as well (and its also one of my favorite bits of Keys in general its very emotionally raw and it hits me in the honey nut feelios every time I reread it. Sooooo enjoy!

***

A few days after the first night they’d spent together, Kairi happens to remember a certain special occasion coming up very soon. And as soon as she does, she immediately begins planning, spreading the word to everyone but Sora as she devises a scheme meant solely for him. It comes just in time too as he’d recently regained the ability to sit up on his own again, his upper body now mostly mobile even if his legs still surge with pain any time he so much as tries to walk. Still, it’s enough to satisfy Kairi that her plan will work as she puts it into motion as soon as she wakes up on the intended morning, knowing that this is something neither of them will want to miss.

“Hey, good morning,” she greets brightly almost as soon as she opens her eyes, only to find that he’s already wide awake beside her. Ever since he’d asked to have his bed moved closer to the window, it’s become something of a pastime for him to casually watch the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of Radiant Garden down below, a pastime that she often joins him on in the early hours of the morning they spend together.

“Morning,” he says, turning to her with a smile.

“I have a surprise for you,” she grins as she sits up.

“A surprise? What is it?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I just told you what it was,” she chuckles while getting up out of bed.

“Aw, c’mon, Kairi…” he groans in faux exasperation. “Can’t I at least have a hint?”

“Just be patient!” she scolds, smirking. “I have to go get something for it first. Be right back.” So Kairi hurries off, leaving Sora in complete suspense for whatever she intends on giving him or showing him. She returns about an hour later, fully dressed and ready for the day as she rolls in perhaps the last thing he’d been expecting.

“It’s… a wheelchair…” he frowns, somewhat disappointed by the chair itself as well as what it implies. Namely, the idea that he’s still far more invalid than he wants to be.

“Hey, it wasn’t easy getting this wheelchair, you know,” Kairi protests, hands on her hips. “I’ve been pestering Cid to trade in some old computer parts for it for days . Besides, this isn’t the surprise. It’s just what’s going to get you to the surprise.”

“Wait…” Sora’s formerly dubious tone shifts to anticipation at this. “You mean…?”

“Yep,” Kairi nods as she summons her Keyblade. She points its tip toward the far side of the room as light surrounds it, and from her focus she forms a bright portal to some unknown location. “We’re finally getting you out of this room.”

Sora breaks into a huge smile at this, unable to hide how elated he is by the mere thought of getting out and seeing something other than the same four walls he’s gotten far too used to by now. Yet even so, he does have at least one reservation about the plan. “Uh… can I ask where we’re going?”

“No,” Kairi answers simply as she pushes the wheelchair closer to the bed. “You’ll see when we get there. Now come on; as excited as I am about this whole thing, I bet there’s no one more eager to see you get up and out then, well… you.”

“You can say that again,” Sora readily agrees, doing what little he can to get ready for the trip. It takes some doing between both him and Kairi, and though some significant pain does come along with the transition, he eventually manages to slip out of bed and into the chair. And as soon as she’s sure he’s properly seated and comfortable, Kairi wastes no time in wheeling him into the portal she made, hoping that her surprise, for as simple as it is, will satisfy him all the same.

When the light from the portal clears, the pair arrives in a picturesque place, to say the least; a deep, dense forest of lush, towering trees, drenched in the fresh, bright colors of a springtime morning. Between the gentle breeze swaying the leaves, birds chirp their cheery melodies from unknown perches, creating an air of captivating peace and promise that Sora can’t help but appreciate as he takes in a deep breath of the warm, crisp, clean air. “Whoa... “ he says, absolutely fascinated as he looks around. “Where are we?”

“We’re in a special world Merlin made just for me and Axel to train in,” Kairi explains, smiling as she pushes his chair down a makeshift path through the woods. “But since we haven’t really been training since he’s been gone, so I thought it might as well be put to use somehow. I also thought that some fresh air might be just what you needed.”

“You thought right,” Sora sighs contentedly as he hangs his arms behind his head. “This place is amazing.”

“It gets better,” Kairi stops short just shy of arriving at the edge of the forest. “But… you have to close your eyes for this next part.” Sora raises a curious eyebrow at this, but he ultimately complies when she insists. She says nothing as she wheels him forward a bit more, eventually bringing his chair to a stop in the right spot before scrambling to get the finishing touches ready.

“Will I get to open my eyes sometime today?” Sora asks teasingly, though he still keeps them closed as she had advised.

“Well, if you’re gonna be that impatient, you can open them… now,” Kairi says, watching his reaction with growing excitement as he gets his first glimpse of the stunning view before them.

Indeed, it astonishes him more than even the forest itself had; a vast, wide valley stretches out far before them, just as rich and radiant as the rest of the woods. And yet, what catches his attention almost as much as the view itself is what Kairi has set up beside him. “What’s all this?” he asks with a curious smile as he looks over the picnic lunch she’s prepared. It isn’t anything extravagant, just a few sandwiches and snacks, all of which she’s plated quite nicely. But what’s most interesting about the entire set up is a single elegantly-decorated cupcake topped with a brightly burning candle at the center of it all.

“Surprise!” Kairi cheers, holding the cupcake up to him. For his part, however, Sora simply looks between it and her, absolutely bemused until he shakes his head in confusion.

“Ok, I give up,” he says with a puzzled grin. “I have no idea what any of this is for.”

“...Sora... “ Kairi’s smile swiftly disappears at this. “Do you… not know what today is?”

“Um… I could be wrong, but… I’m pretty sure it’s a Thursday?”

“Well, yeah. But this Thursday also happens to be your birthday.”

Sora starts at this, somehow even more bewildered by this news as he shakes his head slowly. “N-no, it's… it can’t be, it’s not even…” he stops short, his eyes widening as the realization finally strikes him. “Oh my gosh, it is my birthday….”

“Honestly, Sora, how did you manage to forget your own birthday?” Kairi can’t help but chuckle at just how dumbfounded he is. “Especially since you never have any problems remembering mine or Riku’s.”

“Hey, can you really blame me?” Sora protests defensively. “After all, I don’t really remember celebrating my last birthday either…”

Kairi’s otherwise playful expression turns solemn at this as she realizes exactly why he lacks that memory, if what Riku had told her is anything to go off of. “W-well, do you at least know how old you’re turning today?”

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, though his confidence quickly drops off. “I’m… uh… mm…”

“16?”

“Yeah, that’s right, 16,” he nods before being caught off guard once again. “Wait, really ?!”

Kairi lets out an exasperated sigh, placing the cupcake in his lap before taking a seat on a tree stump across from him. “You’re absolutely hopeless,” she smirks, though her tone soon turns wistful as she looks out at the expansive view before them. “You know, if we were back home, then I’m sure everyone would be throwing you a huge party right now. Especially since 16 is such an important milestone.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Sora crosses his arms, though he still smiles all the while. “My mom always used to tell me that when I turned 16, I’d become a ‘man’, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“It means you’re all grown up, silly,” Kairi laughs, amused. “And that’s a pretty special occasion. Which is why I wish I could have done more to help make it even more special for you, but… I hope this is at least close to good enough.”

“Are you kidding? This is great!” Sora readily assures her. His bright smile quickly fades however as he looks back down to the treat she’d given him. “Honestly, you might have even done too much. I mean, it’s not like it’s anything actually worth celebrating…”

“...What do you mean?”

He hesitates for a moment, but in the end he simply shakes his head and glances away instead. “I-it… it’s nothing…”

“It’s not nothing to me,” she leans forward, catching his gaze once more. “Sora, if something’s bothering you, then I want to hear about it. I told you before: I’ll do whatever I can to help you. But I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He pauses, clearly anxious about divulging something so personal, but ultimately he folds, knowing that if there’s anyone he can trust with what he’s about to say, then it’s her. “I… I don’t think I deserve this…” he begins carefully, yet honestly. “ Any of this. Everyone’s been so great about helping me ever since all this started, but I don’t get why . It’s like… you all just dropped everything just for me, even though you could be doing so many other important things! Heck, you and Axel even stopped your Keyblade training because of me.”

“Of course we did,” Kairi says earnestly. “Because we care about you, Sora. We all do. If any one of us were in your place, wouldn’t you do the same for us?”

“Of course I would!” Sora exclaims without a moment’s hesitation.

“And that’s why we’re doing all this for you,” she offers him a bittersweet smile. “Sora, you do so much for other people. You care so much about nearly everyone you meet. So… maybe it’s time for you to start caring a little more about yourself too…”

“W-well, maybe that would be easier for me to do if I stopped making so many mistakes all the time!” he snaps, largely without thinking.

“Mistakes?” she places a hand against the side of his chair as she looks at him, concerned. “L-like what?”

“Well, like falling for a dumb trap and failing my Mark of Mastery exam for starters,” he says, going down the lengthy list he’s been keeping mental tabs on for quite some time now. “Then I just lost one of the thirteen Keys to Kingdom Hearts of all things, to a member of the Organization that wants to take it over and destroy everything ! Then I agreed to let myself be captured and chained up and poisoned and the entire time the Organization could just be out there getting even more of those Keys and I can’t even do anything to stop them! And that’s all on top of losing my strength not just once but twice in a row, only now it’s even worse because not only can I not even fight, I can’t even walk ! A-and…” A small, harsh sob escapes him, the weight of his multiple mistakes weighing heavy on his heart, especially the worst of those mistakes, one that he can’t even bear to voice aloud. “And I just keep on making all these stupid mistakes over and over again when everyone’s counting on me! I-I feel like I’m failing everyone who needs me… A-and that’s exactly why I don’t deserve this... “

Tears brim in his eyes as he shakily holds the cupcake out to her, silently begging her to take it away from him. And not just that, but the kindness and compassion that she and all the others have shown him right along with it, all in the belief that he’s done nothing to earn it. That he should be cast out and hated instead of being cared for and comforted. And at that moment, Kairi has never wanted to prove him wrong more than she does now.

“No…” she gently pushes the cupcake back to him. “It’s exactly why you do deserve it … ” He stills, looking to her in genuine disbelief even as she continues. “Sora… I wish you would see yourself the way everyone else does… Because if you did, then you wouldn’t see any of those mistakes. You’d see all of the good you’ve done, all of the worlds you’ve saved, and all of the people you’ve helped. And I should know; after all… I am one of those people…”

“B-but I put you in so much danger!” Sora protests tightly. “All of you! You should have never gone to rescue me! You should have just-”

“Should have what ? Left you there with Maleficent?” Kairi asks, tensing up at the very thought. “I don’t think so. I can’t speak for the others, Sora, but for me? Finding out that you’d been captured, that you were being tortured … It was one of the worst things I’ve ever had to go through.”

“A-and you shouldn’t have had to go through that!” Sora counters, still immensely distraught. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me because I should be stronger than this! I need to be stronger than this, b-because if I’m not then… what good am I to anyone…?”

His last statement is so quiet she barely hears it, but it still nearly breaks her heart all the same. Because it’s at that moment that she finally realizes exactly what his problem is: he has so much love in his heart to give to others, he always has. But he never bothers to spare any of that love for himself. Which was why, in place of what his own heart can’t give him, she decides to give him some of hers instead.

“You’re enough…” she whispers to him, kneeling down in front of his chair and taking his hands in her own. “You’ve always been enough…” She can feel the warmth of tears starting to build up in her own eyes now but still she doesn’t stop; she can’t stop. Because he needs this, more than he really knows. “C-can I tell you something? W-when I first started my training, I felt like it was...  a lot to take in. Everyone expected so much out of me when I-I’d barely even used my Keyblade before. It’s been getting easier but, still, there’s sometimes where I worry… What if I’m good enough? I mean, stacked up against you and Riku and even Axel, I… I can’t help but feel like I’m the weakest link of the bunch, you know?”

“K-Kairi, what are you talking about?” Sora asks, immediately placing all of his worries with her and essentially forgetting about himself in the process. “You’re not a weak link at all! Once your training’s done, I know you’ll do great!”

“See?” she can’t help but smile softly as she squeezes his hands a bit. “There you go again. You always know how to help everyone else feel better, but… all this time, you’ve just been… miserable on the inside, haven’t you?” He says nothing, instead looking away from her morosely as she goes on. “But now I think I finally understand why. I thought I was under a lot of pressure, but you, Sora? You literally have the weight of hundreds of worlds resting on your shoulders! And it’s not fair that you have to carry that weight all on your own. Especially since… you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do…” he sighs, closing his eyes solemnly. “Because if I don’t, then who will?”

“ I will,” she answers immediately. “Riku will. Donald and Goofy will. Leon, Aerith, Yuffie, and Cid will. Axel will, the king will, Master Merlin and Master Yen Sid will. So many people will and can help you, Sora. We all want to help you carry that weight. All you need to do is ask.”

He takes in a deep, unsteady breath at this as he stares past her toward the rich blue sky above. “I-I… I’m not good at asking…”

“I know. That’s why I’ve already made up my mind that I’m going to help you anyway, even if you don’t ask. And you know...” She smiles, slipping her hands out of his as she places the cupcake back into them. “Even if you are technically a ‘man’ now, I still don’t see any reason for you to waste a perfectly good birthday cake, now do you?”

A small, yet genuine laugh escapes him at this as he accepts the fork she offered him. And with it, the help that she’s so ready to freely give him in both this moment and beyond it. “I can’t say that I do,” he says just as he blows the cupcake’s nearly burnt-down candle out.

“Did you wish for anything?” she asks him curiously.

“Yeah…” he says happily, his gaze resting solely on her as he wipes the last of his tears away. “It already came true.”

***

The sun is just starting to set over the forest by the time they leave it. As the day slowly, peacefully passes by, the rest of their conversation flows much more lighthearted than how it had started out (though the cupcake they end up splitting does raise their spirits quite a bit). And yet, they’re soon met with an even more festive mood when they return to Merlin’s house, only to arrive to find everyone eagerly waiting for them with a surprise of their own in mind.

“Happy birthday, Sora!” everyone exclaims in bright unison the moment they spot the pair emerging from the portal Kairi had made.

For his part, Sora is even more caught off guard by this surprise than he had been with Kairi’s, especially when he notices the extent of it. They’ve decorated the entire house with countless colorful streamers and balloons, and have even gone as far as to collaborate on a sizable cake, one that is, sure enough, topped with 16 candles exactly. “Whoa! You guys did all this for me?” he asks, genuinely touched by their impressive efforts. “How’d you even know it was my birthday in the first place?”

“Kairi told us,” Aerith informs with a warm smile.

“Oh, really…?” Sora glances back at her with a knowing smirk.

“W-well, someone had to,” Kairi huffs, pushing his chair forward a bit. “It’s not like you would have seeing as how you didn’t even remember what today was to begin with.”

“You forgot your birthday, Sora?” Goofy asks with a small chuckle.

“Why isn’t that not surprising?” Donald adds, crossing his arms.

“H-hey! I didn’t forget it!” Sora counters, flustered. “I just-”

“Like I said, you just didn’t remember it,” Kairi cuts in with a wry smile. “Which is exactly the same thing as forgetting it, but don’t worry. None of us will fault you for it.”

“Yeah, especially not when cake’s on the line!” Yuffie quips with a spirited wink.

“Yeah, cake you didn’t even help the rest of us make,” Axel points out, raising a critical eyebrow at her.

“Aw, cut me some slack; cooking is not my strong suit.”

“ Clearly .”

“Would you two cut that out?” Cid scowls, annoyed as he comes to stand between them. “I’m sure the last thing the poor kid wants to hear on his special day is you two runnin’ your traps at each other!”

“I know I don’t,” Leon agrees dryly.

This elicits a small chuckle out of Aerith, one that both Sora and Kairi quickly join in on until soon enough, the entire room erupts into bright, genuine laughter. Once that laughter dies down, the party fully kicks off. While it isn’t a particularly large get-together, it’s certainly an enjoyable one, filled with talking, laughter, and of course, cake. They keep it going late on into the night, until all of them are tired yet content with the time they’ve spent together as they all fondly part ways to head to bed. As she usually does, Kairi stays with Sora, though as she climbs into bed alongside him, she can’t help but notice the almost glowing smile he falls asleep with. It doesn’t take much thought to figure out where that smile is coming from either. After all, he’d told her as much earlier that very evening and when he did, she could tell just how much he had really been needing something like this to begin with.

Because for the first time in a very long time, he’d been given a chance to feel less like the savior of the worlds he’s expected to be, and more like the normal, now-16 year old he really is. And for the first time in a long time, he’d been given a chance to let the weight of the worlds he’s forced himself to carry just wait, if only for a little while.

[ourmiraclealigner]

Forgotten Birthdays

George Luz x Reader

Gif not mine! Credit to original owner.

disclaimer: writings are only based off of the actor portrayals in the television series. this is not meant to disrespect the real hero’s of the war.

synopsis: George forgets a special day leading to the couples first fight

request: anon - Hello! I love your writing! Could you possibly do a fic about how George wouod act in a fight?

warnings: none

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @floydtab @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @peggycarter46 @mavysnavy @ivy-miranda-2390 @love-studying58 @ya-yeeteth @rarmiitage @primusk @punkgeekchic @joesliebgott

—————————-

Birthdays had always been a big deal for (Y/N). Being the youngest in her family, she relished in the once a year attention her whole family devoted to her. She enjoyed the constant praise, the well-wishes, and the feeling of being celebrated by her loved ones. She always spent the day with a radiant smile, never too shy to tell the older man who worked the ice cream shop down the street that it was her birthday in order to get a free sunday.

But that changed when she joined the Airborne.

She quickly learned to not draw unnecessary attention to herself and was sure to never mention her birthday around Sobel, fearful he would gift her extra PT as a “birthday present”. As time wore on and as she started to get closer to the men, she shared her feelings about how much birthdays meant to her.

She always made sure to write a birthday down when she heard it, even if she wasn’t close to the man, she understood how alone they felt and wanted to cheer them up and make them feel close to home. So, she always had her list handy and frequently checked it, got to know their interests, and scounged around for gifts when the time came. On the day, she would leave it in their fox hole or bunk, a small smile on her face as she watched their reactions.

Yet, there was never anything left for her on her birthday.

When her and George got together, she had expectations. George was a good man, he was always there for her and she was his priority, so she didn’t think anything was wrong with expecting a heartfelt happy birthday from him. It’s not like she was asking for a diamond necklace.

She had especially thought things would be different once they settled down in Haguenau. They had a warm bed, hot food, and had a roof over their heads.

So (Y/N) had found herself watching George organize and take inventory of the extra rations for the men on a particular cold day in February, her 21st birthday. A big milestone in her life, for now she could legally drink and not one word muttered about it from any of her friends. She had spent the last three years fighting for them, protecting them, and not one of them remembered.

She leaned against the counter, her chin holding her head up as she watched his eyes scan over the candy bars as he mumbled numbers under his breath. She was finally a full blown adult, images of her being able to walk into a warm bar back home filled her mind as she listened to the crinkling of the wrappers as George picked them up and set them back down on the counter. The folded letter she had received earlier that day from her sister pressed against her chest as he swiftly pushed them to the side and wrote a number down on a piece of paper, his eyes not meeting hers as he spoke.

“You haven’t said more than two words to me all day sweetheart” He pointed out as his hand reached up to scratch his hair covered chin, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Did I do something?”

She shook her head as she pushed herself away from the counter, his head snapping up and watching her movements. (Y/N) didn’t want to be difficult, but she couldn’t stop the ache in her chest as the day wore on with no mention of its significance from George.

“No” She responded softly, the sound of an explosion outside causing her to slightly jump. George’s eyebrows furrowed as he moved in front of the counter, holding his hand out for her to grab. “No” She repeated again, looking towards the door and then back at George, his concerned expression causing her heart to beat faster. “You didn’t do anything, I just-” She cut herself off with a curt shake of her head.

Why couldn’t she just open up to him? Her mind was screaming at her to be honest, be an adult, and be emotionally available to him, but the disappointment she felt clouded her judgement.

After a moment of silence, she continued. “I just got a letter from my sister, that’s all” She felt his warm hands rub up and down her arms, gently squeezing at her forearms, his deep, warm brown eyes still locked onto her face. “Makes me miss home, I hate only getting to see everyone through pictures.” Her eyes filled with angry tears as she bit her lip, a feeling she couldn’t describe washing over her.

“(Y/N), baby, what's going on?” George’s words were rushed as she crumbled before his eyes. He leaned down a little bit, catching her eyes with his as his hand gently cupped her chin. He knew a few letters from home wouldn’t have caused such an extreme reaction.

She shook her head, pulling her arm out of his grasp as she felt her emotional floodgates open.

Her bottom lip quivered as a hot tear rolled down her hollow cheek. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t remember one day.” She knew she was being ridiculous, throwing a fit over her birthday while the world was at war, while young boys were dying outside. But she couldn’t stop herself. “I-I don’t ask a lot from you George” She felt his warm hand on her arm again, his face frozen into a confused stare. “But I asked you to remember one fucking day.” Her finger prodded his chest as she finished with a sniffle, the usual dullness of her cheeks morphing into a deep red, not allowing her to mask the shame and embarrassment she felt for yelling at George.

A harsh silence settled between them, his eyes pleading with hers as his eyebrows stayed furrowed. “Doll” He spoke softly, hoping his tone and the pet name would calm her down a bit. “Help me out here. What did I forget?”

A light scoff escaped her lips, her eyes closing for a few seconds before reopening. “Nevermind”. Her words were barely above a whisper as she stepped back, creating a large gap between them. With a huff she turned and walked out of the small building, the grey sky and distant sounds of explosions reminding her of the horror that lay across the river.

(Y/N) and George had never fought. They had never had a disagreement or a misunderstanding, so George was thrown for a loop. His mind drifted back to her words and the look on her face as he tried to piece together what he had down wrong; what he had forgotten. He was distant and distracted all day, allowing his drifting mind to interfere with the tasks he was given throughout the day.

The rest of the day dragged along, (Y/N) silent as she pushed the “stew” Malarky had cooked up around her mug. Her dark eyes seemed to drill a hole in the old wooden table as the men joked around her. Her mind floated to the many birthdays she had spent at home, her body warm by the fireplace as music floated into the dining room. Her favorite meal was always on the table as her friends and family chatted amongst themselves. It was a stark difference to the stuffy air of the basement.

George walked in, his footsteps heavy on the creaky stairs as a small gag left his parted lips from the smell of that night's dinner. Malarky looked over at (Y/N) before back at George, silently asking the older man what had transpired between the couple. George sighed softly as he shrugged. “Not sure.”

(Y/N) didn’t spare George a glance as he pulled the chair out from next to her, placing his hot mug on the table as he sat down. Clearing his throat as he mixed the contents of the mug, his eyes downcast as a heavy cloud of tension fell over them.

“You gotta eat.” He started gently, not sure if this was the type of situation he should joke around in “Don’t know how this isn’t making your mouth water” he added with a light chuckle, scooting closer to her so their knees were touching.

Her lips pursed as she turned her head, a piece of her dirty hair falling onto her cheek. “It’s not my ideal birthday dinner” She watched him put together the pieces as her words hung in the thick, dank air of the basement. “But it doesn't make sense to complain” She stood up, the chair squeaking against the floor, grabbing the attention of some of the other men standing by them. She scraped what was left in her mug into George’s, his eyes wide as he watched her pale shaking hands.

“Sweetheart-” He stood as well, his calloused fingers pushing the mug away from him as he watched her retreat up the stairs, no longer hungry.

He waited a few minutes, allowing himself to collect his thoughts as he rubbed his hands over his forehead.

His feet dragged against the cobblestone road as he made his way back to the house he had been staying at, a weight lifting off his chest as he say (Y/N) tucked into bed, moonlight from a part of the caved in roof illuminating her hand as she wrote on an old yellow piece of paper. He sat next to her on the bed, one hand grabbing the paper and pen out of her own as the other ran over her cheek.

“Wake up sleepyhead” Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared up at him “Happy birthday” His chapped lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes “I simply cannot allow you to spend your birthday in bed.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” She asked as she sat up, bringing her knees to her chest as his hand trailed down her body and stopped on top of her knee.

“I want a redo” A chuckle escaped her lips as she started to move, wanting to get out of the small bed but his hands steadied her. “No (Y/N) I’m serious.” His change in tone stopped her as she fell silent, letting him say his peace. “I fucked up today, I know that.” He wet his lips with his tongue before he continued. “You deserve to be happy, to feel appreciated and loved. It’s my job to make you feel that way, I want you to feel like that everyday, but I know you don’t.” He took in a sharp breath as his thumb rubbed small circles on her knee. “And it’s one fucking day a year I should be able to remember, ‘cause I want to celebrate you, I want to make you feel how you make me feel.”

“George-“ She tried to interrupt but he stopped her.

“I’m not done.” His hands moved to her cheeks, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I love you and I’m sorry I’m such a dumbass.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his words as she relaxed into his grasp. “So please accept my apology and let me spend the rest of tonight and tomorrow celebrating you.” He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her lips, letting their noses brush. “Can you do that?”

She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her again, this time, for longer. “What are your plans for the rest of the night?” She asked as she moved over to create space for him.

“Whatever you want” He answered as he slipped his legs under the thin blanket. “It is your birthday, but I was hoping we could start with a cuddle.” His lips pressed wet kisses to her jaw as her eyes closed.

“I have a feeling this might end up being a pretty good birthday after all”

[etherealtauruss]

tk being insecure about his body hc? please make it mostly fluffy after the angst. i’m soft 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

so .. i may have turned this into 2k words worth of a fic? enjoy!!!

you need some lovin’ (tender lovin’ care)

read on ao3

The 126 and 130 were responding to an apartment complex fire just off of West 6th Street. The blazing inferno– to everyone’s knowledge– seemed to be purposefully started. Thus, APD, and in turn Carlos, were called to the scene as well. He had to take statements from witnesses about the potential arsonist.

One thing to note: TK isn’t fond of the 130. If we’re being technical, he isn’t fond of one member in particular; Jake Matthews. Honestly, loathe is a better word. TK loathes Jake Matthews.

Jake is Carlos’ ex-boyfriend; obsessive ex-boyfriend, to be exact. Ever since he and Carlos broke it off, he’s had a personal vendetta against TK.

But, it wasn’t TK’s fault they broke up. The split happened 6 months before he and his dad even stepped foot in Austin. And yet, he was still being held accountable.

Jake and TK were complete opposites in every way imaginable. Jake was a big guy. He was well over 6 feet, probably weighed a calm 200 pounds, pretty bulky, and was hung between the legs; if the bulge that graced the front of his pants at all times was anything to go by. So sure, Jake definitely had TK beat physically according to societal standards, but mentally and emotionally? TK came first in that race.

Carlos assured him of that plenty of times before. “Baby, you’re so much better than him. I don’t even know what I saw in that guy.” He nibbled on the shell of TK’s ear and continued, “The way you treat me. Love me. Make love to me. Not to mention that impressive package between those thighs, it’s heavenly...”

TK shivered at the thought of that conversation, mainly because of the events that took place afterward. Point is, TK wasn’t worried. Carlos only had eyes for him and visa versa. Nonetheless, anytime both crews were responding to a call, Jake always had something nasty to say to TK. And for TK to claim it didn’t get under his skin in the slightest? Yeah, that would be a lie.

The worst part about it all is Jake would play coy whenever Carlos came around. Luckily, Carlos didn’t believe the sorry act for a second.

After the conflagration was extinguished, all the first responders made sure everyone was accounted for. The crews started to settle down on the side of the road, catching their breath.

“Hey TK.” TK rolled his eyes, and begrudgingly looked up at the person who was speaking to him.

“What do you want Jake?”

“How’s ‘Los?”

TK glanced to where his boyfriend was standing, “He’s fine. We’re fine.” He paused for a beat, “And don’t call him ‘Los. You guys aren’t friends anymore.”

“What’s he still doing with a pretty boy like you anyways?”, Jake sneered.

“Pretty boy? Really?”

“Did I lie, Strand? You’re not very tall. Your build is mediocre, and I’m sure the situation between your legs doesn’t satisfy your man.”

TK swallowed thickly, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He wasn’t too upset. Jake was targeting physical aspects, and for the most part, he was pretty confident in his body. Or, so he thought.

TK could recognize parts of his piece-of-shit ex Alex in Jake. The confidence he held for his physical attributes had been whittled away to mere nubs during said relationship. Wounds he thought had healed were starting to open back up. Jake and Alex were one in the same. They deserved to be together if Alex ever made his way to Austin.

He felt the blood rushing in his ears. His heart was beating a mile a minute. He wished they’d get another call. He wished someone would rescue him. He wish–

“–I remember when he and I were together, he told me he loved being manhandled. Thrown onto the bed. Hands pinned above his head.”

“You can stop,” TK interrupted, in an attempt to get Jake to shut up.

“After rough shifts I’d make love to him, feeling him all around me, knowing he was all mine. But you wouldn’t know about that would you.”

“Jake, I get it.” TK pleaded. He didn’t need to hear about Carlos’ previous sex life; let alone his fantasies that TK couldn’t fulfill. Why hadn’t Carlos mentioned any of these desires to TK? Carlos wouldn’t leave TK. He knew this but he couldn’t help but wonder if he was ever good enough for his saint of a lover.

“If we’re being brutally honest, you’re not his type at all,” he snickered. “Or maybe you are. He helps people for a living. You’re nothing but a charity case to him.”

“That’s enough.”

Carlos. That was Carlos’ voice. Carlos was here.

TK let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize was stored away. Neither of the two firefighters had noticed that he approached them.

“Jake, you can go now. You’ll be hearing from your chief by the end of this week. Let’s hope you’re not without a job for verbally assaulting another first responder”.

TK silently thanked the angels above. The tears that had welled up in his eyes finally spilled over the threshold.

“C’mere Tiger,” Carlos cooed. He wrapped TK in his arms, running a reassuring hand along his boyfriend’s back.

“I shouldn’t be crying,” he let out a wet laugh. “Sorry.”

Carlos placed a finger beneath TK’s chin, causing his boyfriend to look him in the eyes. Rubbing calming circles on his cheekbones in order to get rid of the stray tears that lingered on his face.

“Never apologize for how you feel. From what I was able to catch, Jake said some pretty disgusting things to you. He belittled you, and targeted your insecurities. I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Ty.”

Carlos sighed, “And none of what he said was true by any means. You’re not a charity case. You’re the love of my life.”

TK shrugged, still not fully convinced. He knew what Carlos meant well, and that he’d never lie to TK, but he couldn’t help the feeling of doubt threatening to swallow him whole.

“How about we get you home?”

“Can’t.” TK mumbled into his boyfriend’s shirt. “Not done with my shift.”

“I talked to your dad before heading over to you, he said it’s fine.”

The couple made their way to Carlos’ patrol car, fingers intertwined. They settled themselves into the vehicle, Carlos placed a loving hand on TK’s knee.

“Are you hungry?”

TK simply shook his head. He couldn’t speak just yet; he knew it’d just result in him crying again.

Carlos stopped at Raising Cane’s on their way home anyways. Though TK claimed not to be hungry now, that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be later once all his worries had been washed away by some good ol’ TLC. The fact that chicken fingers were TK’s favorite comfort food was an added bonus.

They entered Carlos’ apartment and TK immediately shed all of his gear at the door. Again, Carlos engulfed the younger in a hug.

“‘Los?” TK questioned, barely above a whisper.

His partner hummed in response.

“Can we shower together?”

“Of course, love.”

They started towards the bathroom, their food abandoned on the dining room table. TK flicked on the light and began removing all his clothing. Well, almost all of it. He kept his briefs on, thinking back to what Jake had said to him.

“Ty?” Carlos asked. “What’s the matter?”

“I-, well. I-,” TK sighed in frustration. “Is my dick too small for you?”

Carlos was taken back and had to bite his lip to hold in a chuckle at his boyfriend’s brash words.

“I’m being serious!”, TK whined. His bottom lip jutting out to display his infamous pout.

“Baby, you are perfect for me in every way.”

TK crossed his arms. “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No.” Carlos started, “I’m saying that because it’s true”.

The older man began to undress as well, “And why are you asking me that?”

TK stayed silent. He wanted to tell Carlos everything Jake said, but at the same breath, he’d much rather not relive the conversation.

Carlos waited a few moments for a reply, stark naked in front of his significant other. His tan body glistening under the glow of the luminous lighting. His muscles that looked like they were painted onto his body flexing. Not to mention the member that was the icing on the cake; perfectly hung between two burly thighs. TK’s cock twitched at the sight of his boyfriend. Had he not been upset, he would’ve jumped Carlos’ bones then and there.

He sighed, “Ty. Baby, you have to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Before he knew it, TK words were spilling out of his mouth like vomit. “Jake said that I don’t satisfy your needs. He reminisced about how you guys used to make love. Told me that you like being manhandled. You never told me you liked to be manhandled. Why didn’t you tell me? I can do it. I’ve done it. Is that what you want? I can work out a bit more, start upping my weight–”

Carlos intercepted, “–Sweetheart, breathe.” They took deep breaths together. “Now, start over, and go slower.”

“Jake basically just reminded me how different he and I are from each other. Which isn’t a bad thing, except it is? Our body types are nothing alike. I like my body; trust me, I do. I work hard to keep it this way, but I had no idea me not being super ripped made you feel like I couldn’t top in the bedroom.”

For the third time that day, Carlos enveloped the younger in a bone-crushing hug. Deft fingers ran through TK’s hair, pausing at the nape of his neck to scratch lightly. TK melted under the touch, practically turning to putty in his lover’s arms.

“Baby, have I ever said anything to make you insecure? Be honest, please.”

TK huffed, “No.” He adjusted his hands so that he was tracing random patterns onto Carlos’ back.

“That’s the worst part about it. You do everything right, and I let your jerk of an ex-boyfriend get inside my head.”

“Well, I doubt I do everything right. But I certainly do make an effort to keep you happy.”

“Babe, it's not you, I swear. Just the shit Jake said was fucked up. It made me feel bad about what I can’t do for you.”

“Can I let you in on a secret?”

“No time like the present.”

“I like taking care of you in the bedroom. I take it Jake never told you why we broke up?”

“Nah, don’t think that’s ever going to be on his agenda.”

“We split because he was too controlling”, Carlos revealed. “You know better than anyone else, I love taking care of people. So, imagine my surprise when he didn’t let me take initiative in anything. Not the bedroom. Not where we went on our dates. Not even what was for dinner.”

“But you love cooking?”

“Exactly. He didn’t even let me do what I loved most. I couldn’t take the constant nagging, and the unnecessary controlling demeanor, so I broke it off. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“So you mean to tell me, he was deflecting? That whole time?”

“Yep.”

“I feel like an idiot” Tk replied, letting out a soft chuckle.

“No way you could’ve known. And Ty? You mean everything and more to me. What we have is irreplaceable. Every inch of you deserves tender loving care. From your alluring sea-green eyes to your incredible compassion.”

TK captured Carlos’ lips in a sloppy kiss. All the emotions of the day embedded in this act of affection. Between the intense licking into Carlos’ mouth, and their naked bodies pressed against each other; things were heating up, fast.

They pulled away from each other breathlessly, shallow pants exiting their lungs. 

“Our food is probably ice cold by now, Tiger” Carlos said, turning the faucet to the shower, allowing the water to heat up.

“It’s fine. We can just reheat it in the air fryer.” TK replied, going in for another searing kiss.

The two stumbled into the shower, relishing in each other’s presence. The food could wait.

[nyxi-styx]

No Air

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: M/M, Prinxiety, AKA: Virgil/Roman Words: 2,300 Rating: E for everyone Warnings: hanahaki, body horror? maybe?, blood, difficulty breathing, angst but like... softly. Gently. Tags: unrequited love, but not really, fluff, happy ending, very Princely Roman but also like insecure Roman, Logan and Patton are fatherly and heckin’ concerned Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, and very briefly, Thomas Sanders A/N: This is my first ever (and maybe only but idk) Sanders Sides fanfic. I hope you all enjoy it. I usually don’t like the hanahaki trope but thanks to a fic by @xpouii, I had an idea that I just needed to get out. So it goes without saying that this was entirely new territory to me both in the hanahaki aspect and the Sanders Sides aspect. Please enjoy! :)

The moment they’d sunk back into the mindscape after discussing the hidden dark sides of Disney films with Thomas, Virgil’s chest felt tight. This wasn’t the typical fearful, anxious tightness he was accustomed to. No, now he was wheezing. Like he couldn’t take in enough air. He sat down on his bed and took a few slow, calculated breaths. It helped some, but it didn’t go away entirely. What was wrong with him? The odd condition seemed to continue to plague Virgil with increasing intensity over the next several months. Each time Thomas summoned him, he kept his words few and his answers brief to avoid gasping in front of him and alerting him to his condition. It wasn’t possible for him to develop severe asthma… right? No. And it wasn’t some standard respiratory illness. Thomas was fine. He felt like he was going crazy. Maybe that was the lack of oxygen to his brain. It seemed that every time Virgil interacted with Roman directly it became harder to breathe. Figures. Of course that pompous idiot is going to be the death of me. The next time Thomas had gathered the four of them for a video, Roman had actually complimented him in front of everyone. Virgil coughed violently and felt something in his mouth. His eyes widened as he closed his lips firmly. It wasn’t bile. It wasn’t saliva. What was it? It filled his mouth and throat, drying both out entirely. Unfortunately, he’d drawn the attention of the other four. “Virge? You okay, buddy,” Thomas asked gently. Virgil nodded and gave a thumbs up gesture before turning his back to the group. He spit whatever was in his mouth into his hand, seeing for the first time that it was a cluster of vibrant red flower petals. He gave a panicked wheeze and immediately sank back into the mindscape away from everyone else. What the hell?! I have to be going crazy. This doesn’t just happen! Flower petals?! 

Out of concern, Patton had followed Virgil into the mindscape. “You sure you’re okay there, kiddo?” The father figure reached out and touched Virgil’s shoulder, causing the other to abruptly jerk away from him. It took a moment for Virgil to be able to form the words, the illness making his mouth dry. “Yes,” he snapped at last. “I… I said I’m fine!” Startled, but no less concerned, Patton relented and backed off, returning to Thomas and the others where he was still needed. The flower petals dissolved in Virgil’s hand and he curled up on his bed, pulling his hoodie up as a comfort measure as he continued to struggle to breathe. __

Roman complimented him again and, as if the coughing and flower petals weren’t bad enough, there came a sharp pain. Like hundreds of little needles poking his lungs from the inside out. Virgil was convinced he was going to die. And this was a miserable way to go. How could he even die? He was part of Thomas. Thomas was alive and well… and so were the others. But here he was… miserable every day. The pain and discomfort he was undergoing was clearly visible to everyone else despite his best efforts to hide it. They never pushed his boundaries, however, allowing him space to approach them if he desired.

“Logan, I’m concerned about Virgil,” Patton confided, catching up with the other in the mindscape when neither Roman nor Virgil could hear them. 

“Of course you are,” Logan confirmed. “We all are. There is clearly something troubling at hand and either due to his nature or whatever the issue is, he’s hiding his discomfort away from the rest of us. The problem is that without him being willing to open up- unless we are able to see the symptoms for ourselves- we have no way of knowing what it is or how to help him.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Patton fretted, wringing his hands. “I don’t like it. Can we go check on him? Please. I… I know it may be a long shot. But. He needs our help.” Together, they phased through into Virgil’s room, both expecting to hear a snarky and sharp-tongued “Don’t either of you know how to knock?” but instead they heard more aggressive coughing and arrived just in time to watch Virgil stare in horror at the blood-soaked flower petals in his cupped hands. 

“Oh my goodness gracious,” Patton exclaimed, causing Virgil to look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Oh, kiddo,” he tutted sadly. “I think you’ve got yourself a love sickness. Unrequited love sickness.”

“Wh-what?”

“Specifically, Hanahaki disease,” Logan explained. “It’s a disease caused by unrequited love and pining. Typically, it begins when the patient realizes their affections for another and believes it to be unrequited or one-sided. As it goes unaddressed and untreated, it naturally progresses and worsens. Luckily, you’re not in the final stages yet, though you are in a dire situation. There is hope. The color and/or type of petal can be an indicator of the object of your affections: either their favorite flower or their favorite color. May I?” He approached Virgil tentatively and picked up one of the flower petals, wiping away the blood to confirm that the petal itself was red and not merely stained that way from the blood. “Given that there is blood, I’d guess your lungs and heart may be filled with thorns. These are definitely rose petals, though I think the color alone tells us everything we need to know. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to Roman about this at all?”

Virgil ignored Patton’s soft, wistful gasp and aggressively shook his head. “No,” he wheezed. “No and please… don’t…” He paused to cough. “...don’t tell him. I… I think it’s a… mistake.” He coughed again, letting petals fall to the floor, rosebuds tumbling after them. “We.... don’t get along. It’s… it can’t be.” “You know sometimes when we like someone, we don’t know how to express that. So… we cover up our emotions by… calling them nicknames or… teasing them. It’s not the nicest or healthiest way to express fondness, but it’s very normal,” Patton explained calmly. “So what your… well, anxiety… might be telling you is the two of you not getting along and Roman not liking you, might really just be a normal case of… playground pigtail-pulling.”

“Apt, Patton. Thank you,” Logan complimented. “We can’t force you to do anything, Virgil, and we certainly don’t want to make you emotionally uncomfortable on top of your physical pain and discomfort, but I do believe you should think it over before it’s too late. If Roman returns your feelings, you can be cured. The other options are to die- you can’t- or suffer for the rest of time. And Thomas will notice something is wrong. You can’t perform your basic function and protect him if you’re entirely incapacitated. We will leave you with that and allow you your privacy.” “You know where we are if you need us, Virgil,” Patton assured him. “And… well, we care about you, darn it! So please… do what’s best for yourself.”

No. No, it just couldn’t be the truth. They had to be mistaken. He didn’t love Roman. And even if he did, Roman most certainly didn’t love him back. There would be no cure for this. He would just have to get used to the feeling of sharp thorns digging into his heart and pressing against the insides of his lungs. He curled up and turned The Nightmare Before Christmas on his TV. It was always a comfort. He pulled his hood up, wheezing as he stifled another cough and tried to just focus on the movie. As always, the movie was comforting… until Sally was wandering the town and the lyrics ‘and does he notice/my feelings for him/when will he see/how much he means to me/I think it’s not to be’ caused poor Virgil’s heart to thump painfully against the vine of thorns in his chest. He wheezed again in panic and coughed up more rosebuds, petals and blood. He’d heard this song scores of times. Why now did it seem so significant? 

‘And will we ever/end up together/no I think not/it’s never to become/for I am not the one…’ Virgil’s chest tightened again and he couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down his cheeks, carrying black eye shadow with them. Fuck. They were right. Of course, they’re right. He really was in love with Roman. Against his better judgement, against the odds of everything they’d been through together… his heart belonged to the over-the-top, dramatic, pompous… wonderful, bright, creative, uncertain, dazzling… prince.

Virgil drew his legs up to his chest and put his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall freely. He felt hopeless. He was going to be stuck this way forever. Once again, he coughed violently. This time, however, he had to manually remove the large obstruction protruding from his mouth. A full rose blossom. This must have been what Logan said was ‘the final stages’. His breaths became shallower. He constantly felt like he was suffocating, breathing through layers of fabric. And mostly, that was true, thought there was nothing over his face. His own feelings were suffocating him, manifesting in painful roses.

Moving became agony within another day, so Virgil elected to lie down and suffer in relative peace. Each breath was labor and the carpet quickly became littered with discarded rose blossoms and buds that he plucked from his mouth with shaking hands and allowed to tumble to the floor. Eventually, he gave up pulling them away. Another always replaced it within moments.

Patton had been stewing ever since they left Virgil after finding out about his condition. He could no longer sit idly by while someone he cared about was suffering. Virgil could be upset all he wanted, but it was the right thing to do. He had to tell Roman. He was certain the prince returned Virgil’s affections anyway. Determined, he set off to tell Roman, taking a very reluctant Logan along with him to explain. “Roman! You need to save Virgil. He’s got the honey-hockey disease and you’re the only one who can cure him!” “Um, that’s Hanahaki, Patton,” Logan corrected gently, only to be met with a confused look from Roman. He sighed, cleared his throat, drew a deep breath, and explained yet again. 

“So, what you’re saying is that our grumpy, frumpy little rain cloud is cursed and can only be saved by the kiss of true love from a prince?!” Roman’s face lit up exuberantly at the idea. He was made for this. “A worthy quest. It will be done!”

“Well, not- not really,” Logan de-escalated while Patton shouted, “Exactly!” Logan sighed again, adjusting his glasses with a light air of annoyance. “Your overall idea is not incorrect, Roman, however, it has to be true and genuine romantic love. Unfortunately, friendship is not enough to save him.”

“Worry not,” Roman assured them. “I will save him! With true love’s first kiss!” Valiantly, he strode away from Patton and Logan to go and rescue Virgil; however, as soon as they were out of sight, his knightly facade faded and his insecurity had a vice grip around his stomach. Why? He knew already that Virgil loved him. That much was obvious from the illness Logan and Patton told him of. What if he rejects me anyway? What if he would rather suffer? What if he doesn’t believe me?! He took a moment to himself. He had to put all of that aside. It wasn’t about him. This was bigger than him. Virgil needed his help, consequences be damned. 

Roman took a deep breath and pushed on, entering Virgil’s room to find him lying on his back, a large rose blossom grotesquely blooming from his forced open mouth. What a pitiful state to find him in: barely breathing at all, cheeks streaked black from tears redistributing his makeup. The prince approached carefully, reaching deep to find his nerve again. “Virgil,” he called quietly before crouching beside him. As soon as Virgil opened his eyes and made eye contact with Roman, he looked away again, clearly embarrassed at his current state and the fact that Patton had obviously told Roman what was happening. 

Undeterred, Roman took Virgil’s hand gently between both of his own. “Oh… my darling raindrop. Such a silly thing to go and get ill over. Of course… of course, I love you too. You are charming in your own strange way. You bring a smile to my face more often than you believe and we make a harmonious and powerful team when needed.” Virgil looked at Roman again, his eyes full of unspoken emotion. Roman smiled at him and softly sang, “For it is plain/as anyone can see... We’re simply meant to be.” He held out the notes on the last two words with a flourish- he couldn’t help himself- and reached up with his free hand, delicately pulling the rose from Virgil’s mouth. He tossed it to the floor and used his thumb to wipe away a trail of blood on the other’s chin. He leaned in and caught Virgil’s lips with his own, softly but earnestly. He kissed him with all of the longing and hidden affection of months past, feeling like he had a lot to make up for. It was his own fault, clearly, that Virgil ended up in such a poorly state to begin with.

The moment Roman pulled away, smiling bright as the sun, Virgil could breathe openly and clearly for the first time in months. The pain of the thorns vanished, no more petals, no more flowers. Only love.

[uwua3]

therapist.

❄️📚 tsukioka tsumugi

summary: you don’t need a boyfriend, you really just need a therapist

warnings: cheating, exhaustion, heartbreak, jealousy, lack of communication, passing out, toxic relationships

author’s note: this is a song fic! it’d be cool to listen to the song as you read, obviously the lyrics won’t match up to the pace of the passage! i recently went through something like this and thought it would be important to address in a healthy manner ♡

sometimes, you can’t expect your s/o to be the person who “fixes everything”. remember to establish mental health boundaries + ask someone if they’re in the right headspace to emotionally support someone!

word count: 3,352

music: therapist – mae muller

YOU DON’T BRING HOME ROSES, YOU JUST BRING HOME STRESS

YOU NEVER SAY I LOOK GOOD, WHEN I’M LOOKING MY BEST

Tsumugi anxiously fixed his hair as he shifted around his phone’s camera angle facing him. It was so late, he had so much work on top of his tutoring shifts, but you kept putting off this call for so long. Said you were busy, but Tsumugi knew you were nervous to talk to him face to face. You pretended to have family errands even though he saw you active online, but he wanted to see you (even if it cost him another sleepless night and missed assignments).

It was ten minutes past the allocated time frame you had suggested to call, but you weren’t responding to his constant texts. Tsumugi straightened his sweater (lucky sweater, actually) and saw his face frown as the clock kept ticking against his will. You were late, that’s not new, but you would have at least notified him. Tsumugi flipped through your texts, trying to find something that would justify your absence. No matter, Tsumugi figured, knowing you wouldn’t be too long. After all, you guys were just taking it slow, maybe scheduled FaceTime calls weren’t that serious?

As Tsumugi leaned back and felt the weight of the day on his shoulders, he released a sigh of disappointment as he stared up at his room’s ceiling. Tsumugi was looking forward to this call all week now, feeling jittery to see his potential partner because he really, really liked you, it honestly scared him.

It was the first time in a while he got back into the love scene as other than the resident wingman, so putting himself out there was new. As a joke (and moment of desparation), Tsumugi tweeted how much he wanted a significant other and hit send before going to sleep. Yes, social distancing and quarantine were getting to him, bad. But, waking up and receiving a message at 4am was exhilarating.

You guys met online. First, it was you liking his tweets back and forth before you DMed Tsumugi. It was out of character for him to even consider responding to a stranger, but it was quarantine... and maybe this could have been some fun! It was a childish thought for someone his age, but as soon as Tsumugi sent a laughing emoji back, the two of you hit it off.

There was instant chemistry, spending hours everyday (time he didn’t have) to have engaging conversations together that made his heart jump every time you instinuated something flirty. Tsumugi’s last relationship was years ago, it had been so long, he didn’t know how to respond as well as you did. But, one thing led to another, and it was barely a week before Tsumugi confessed he liked you, embarrassingly enough. It was after you put out a Google Form application to get suitors to make him purposely jealous, and Tsumugi definitely hadn’t felt that jealous in a long, long time.

But, you wanted to take it slow. Talking about how you never had such a cute partner before, that Tsumugi was so considerate so you didn’t want to rush anything and ruin the potential. Tsumugi agreed immediately, he knew you weren’t ready for commitment and that was okay. Maybe, he could change your mind?

That night, you two talked over the phone for six hours. It was the highlight of his entire romantic life, it was his first date! Tsumugi remembered there was little to no awkwardness the first time around, and fell asleep at 6am just to wake up one hour later. Although he was exhausted and his sleep schedule was destroyed, Tsumugi never felt happier and more comfortable with someone else.

Again, Tsumugi felt himself dozing off before he heard his ringtone blaring. He jumped up and quickly accepted it despite his bedhead. Hopefully the entire dorm didn’t hear it (they did) and Tasuku actually believed he was going steady with someone. (“Seriously, this is the fourth night I’m kicked out of my own room.” Tasuku complained, but didn’t bother fighting it when he saw Tsumugi’s pleading eyes). There you were, on screen, and Tsumugi instantly flushed.

First of all, you were drawing as you sketched something out with your headphones in. Secondly, Tsumugi self consciously covered his sweater, he was way, way too overdressed when you were dressed casually. Third, you only smiled at him before resuming your activity. Not even a greeting? Maybe a compliment that he looked nice (it was the best Tsumugi looked all quarantine)?

Tsumugi didn’t see it coming. For the rest of the short hour they had together, you guys barely talked as you seemed distracted. When the call ended with the first thing you said all night, Tsumugi dropped back into his bed and shoved his face into his pillow. You didn’t even say anything? Were you busy? Was he inconveniencing you? The FaceTime call felt nothing like the voice call, it was so awkward. It felt like there was nothing there at all.

But, maybe he was being hasty? It can’t be love at first sight, they were both adults with jobs—right, a job. Tsumugi pushed himself up as he rolled out of bed, returning back to the stack of papers balancing his phone. Grabbing his red pen and keeping the desk lamp on, Tsumugi prepared himself for a very long rest of the night. After all, these papers weren’t going to grade themselves.

AND IF WE’RE STAYING UP ALL NIGHT,

IT’S CAUSE YOU’RE MOANING

(AND NOT THE GOOD KIND)

Tsumugi forced his eyes open as he glanced at the alarm clock between him and Tasuku’s beds. It was 5am, weren’t you tired? Tsumugi attempted to read the tens of large texts that detailed everything that went wrong that day, just endless complaining. Tsumugi tried his best to console you at first, but he was so, so tired. You two had been awake talking about the issue at hand for nearly six hours. How can someone even talk about themselves for that long? Tsumugi increased his screen brightness, he needed all the reminders to stay up as possible.

If Tasuku caught him still up, he’d be in for a scolding for sure. But, no one suspected a thing. Tsumugi always had low–energy, this wasn’t any different. Except, he was messing up the entire order of his day. Tsumugi was missing appointments despite being known as a punctual teacher, skipping out on chores in the garden, even avoiding the other company members altogether to prevent creating plans. It was taking a toll on Tsumugi’s mental state, but he had you... right?

Tsumugi didn’t want to burden you with his problems, though. You were going through much worse and needed an outlet to rant about it. There was nothing wrong with that, of course! He just wished, it was at a different time. Tsumugi did everything in his power to make you feel better from the predicament, but you didn’t change. You were just as frustrated as before, maybe even more.

Was Tsumugi really that bad at being a good “taking–it–slow” boyfriend? Tsumugi sank into his sheets, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you leave without a warning. What could he had done different? Were you getting bored?

Tsumugi tossed and turned, unable to sleep as he turned on his phone to reread the conversation every thirty minutes or so. What went wrong? Why did you open up and suddenly disappear without thanking him? Maybe, it wasn’t his business anymore. Did you trust him?

Tsumugi fell asleep at 7am. He slept past his alarm, again.

WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY,

BUT NOT AT MY EXPENSE

You hadn’t responded to his texts asking about your day in forever. Your read directs were off anyways, so it’s not like he knew. But, Tsumugi started pacing his room as he kept refreshing your account. Were you okay? Did something happen? Could he have prevented this? What could he have—oh.

You tweeted on your private account. You were talking with someone else (Tsumugi scrolled back to the beginning of the thread), starting two hours ago. Huh. He hadn’t heard that you got a new friend, that was good! Tsumugi felt proud seeing you overcome your nervousness to interact with others, before he his heart dropped reading the tweets.

Was it normal for friends to talk like this? Tsumugi read the entire conversation despite his head telling him to respect your privacy, but how could he when you put it on his timeline? They were calling you your favorite endearment, and it stung when Tsumugi realized he wasn’t the only one who called you that. Ouch. Not only that, but it seemed exactly like the way you two started talking. It was flirty, to say the least.

Tsumugi heard everyone get called down to dinner and the rapid herd of footsteps running past his door. Tsumugi pocketed his phone, wanting to hear your specific chime as he joined the group to eat. He needed a distraction, but even Omi’s food couldn’t keep his mind off you and that new friend of yours.

Could this count as “cheating”? Was there even cheating in unofficial relationships? What stage were you guys at? Could Tsumugi ask you out right now and have it not be weird? Why were you, crushes so confusing? Tsumugi unintentionally sighed, eating slowly as he sensed multiple sets of eyes glance at him.

“You okay, Tsumugi? You look so tired~ even more than Hisoka!” Homare asked, a dramatic tone with his words but his eyes were concerned about the thin figure of his already skinny friend. Hisoka even nodded to strengthen the argument, poking at the egg white omelete with his fork. Tsumugi forced a casual chuckle, placing his utensils down to hide his shaking hands. Damn, caffeine.

“Sorry to worry you guys, I’m just getting more students, recently.” Tsumugi mentioned, awkwardly laughing to seal the deal. The other boys nodded, not trying to press Tsumugi for more information as they turned their attention back to the delicious meal. Only Tasuku kept his eye on Tsumugi, taking in the way his spine was slouched and focus seemed elsewhere.

Ducking his head, Tsumugi gripped the base of the kitchen chair, trying to keep the tears in as he thought of you. You who was probably messaging your friend instead of him. Leaving him on read for days.

This was the happiest he’s been... right?

THE MORE I LISTEN AND I LISTEN,

THE MORE I’M THINKING

Tsumugi was about to text you. He hated hiding these feelings from you, he wanted to be your boyfriend. He liked you so damn much.

As he was about to type a message explicitly stating how he thought you two were ready to pursue a serious, committed relationship, you texted him first (for once).

Tsumugi couldn’t even finish reading the message before running out of dorm room to the bathroom. Bumping into Azuma on the way out, Tsumugi dropped his phone in the corridor before disappearing behind the door to gag. Tsumugi tried to stop himself from throwing up but it was too late, he held himself over the toilet as he choked over his own spit. He couldn’t see anything, his vision was so blurry.

Tsumugi was so, so sick. Sick of all of this.

Azuma picked up Tsumugi’s smartphone and looked at the screen, seeing it was open to a number he had never seen before.

You: I don’t like you anymore, Tsumugi. I don’t want a relationship right now... I don’t think I even ever liked you as a crush.

YOU DON’T NEED A BOYFRIEND,

YOU JUST NEED A THERAPIST

Tsumugi: That’s okay! We can still be friends, right?

Life went on. At least, for you. You two still chatted every once in a while, and Tsumugi still put all his attention and effort despite knowing there was no possibility you liked him back anymore. It stung, to say the least. To know you ran circles around his mind all day and Tsumugi wasn’t even worth your time, it killed him. His attention span was limited to only reacting immediately when hearing your text tone.

Tasuku had to carry him back to the dorms after the whole bile episode. Azuma refused to say anything, locking his lips when Tasuku demanded to know what happened. Azuma casually suggested Tsumugi might have just had a bad case of food poisoning, much to the Mankai chef’s distaste. No one in Winter Troupe bought it but still took shifts checking Tsumugi’s health levels, acting like he had food poisoning when his puffy red eyes suggested otherwise.

When it was Azuma’s turn, he sat beside Tsumugi as he prepared the food. Tsumugi ate in silence and Azuma accepted that, knowing talking could ruin the mood. It was the first time Tsumugi was at least making an attempt to eat something. Without even looking, Azuma hummed as he gathered the plates after Tsumugi finished. As he rose, Azuma couldn’t help but turn back and rest a gentle hand on Tsumugi’s shaking form.

“I’m sorry.” Azuma quietly whispered and it was enough to make Tsumugi cry. Blinking rapidly, Tsumugi leaned into Azuma’s open arms as he hid his face in the latter’s chest. Azuma hoped no one heard Tsumugi’s sobs as he released all the pain you put him through.

There wasn’t much said, but it was enough.

Tsumugi slept that night. He woke up to his alarm and started the day without delay.

YOU GOT TOO MUCH DRAMA, I’M NOT QUALIFIED TO FIX

I WOULD HOLD YOUR BODY, BUT YOU WANT SOMEBODY THAT WILL HOLD YOUR SHIT TOGETHER

Tsumugi was going back to normal. He was arriving on time again (he muted your contact), taking care of the plants in the courtyard again (much to manager Matsukawa’s relief), and even actively went out with the other members daily. Homare stopped questioning him senselessly every moment, Hisoka offered him a marshmallow every once in a while, Azuma still suggested free cuddles at night, and Tasuku gave up on trying to find out whatever happened. Life went on.

Until, that night.

Tsumugi tried to avoid checking your texts, knowing he would be sucked in into the void if he did. But, you were sending multiple, which was strange. Tsumugi checked his surroundings, seeing Tasuku was out playing soccer with his friends. He had the room to himself for a while.

With no one to watch his every move, Tsumugi carefully opened your chat room and his heart soared.

You admitted you always liked him so much. You wanted to be in a relationship with him. You only lied to protect your own feelings. You wanted him back. You... liked him. Tsumugi didn’t see all the progress he made moving on get thrown out the window as he quickly sent a reply, agreeing to take things slow again to see how it would go.

Tsumugi wanted you to earn his trust again, even though he knew damn well he wanted to take you back in a heartbeat. Would you put in the effort? He was so curious. You two spent the entire night catching up and texting.

Tsumugi went to bed at 4am. He slept past his alarm again, again, and again.

I WANNA MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD, AND PUT YOUR MIND AT EASE

BUT I’M JUST WHERE YOU POUR OUT THE NEGATIVITY, I’LL GET YOU EXCITED

Tsumugi had high expectations for someone who didn’t change. You tried at first, checking in on him multiple times and even offering to help him out with anything. It was so nice being in the honeymoon phase, and Tsumugi was considering finally taking you back. But then, you slipped from his grasp. You stopped trying. You texted one–liners. You didn’t change.

This week was exams season. Tsumugi was overwhelmed with work and texted you his updated schedule so you weren’t upset every time he didn’t respond. No one noticed his unhealthy behavior starting to come back since he was always out tutoring students for their finals. Life seemed to stop, even though everything but you changed.

Tsumugi was on the train home, scrolling through his Twitter timeline to see you were active again. You were talking to that friend again. Tsumugi suddenly noticed how exhausted he was, holding onto the train pole as he rested his face against the cold metal. He needed a break, a long nap for eternity. He didn’t even know why.

Tsumugi didn’t eat dinner for the first time in a month. Azuma frowned when Tsumugi simply walked to his room, turning to see Tasuku doing the same concerned, parental expression. Azuma was about to open his mouth but stopped, instead exhaling sharply through his nose before volunteering to wash dishes. Tasuku assisted, forgetting all about Tsumugi’s lack of appetite.

Tsumugi didn’t sleep at all that night. At least, he didn’t miss his alarm, this time.

BUT IT’S SO ONE–SIDED

AND I’M GETTING TIRED OF FIGHTING FOR SOMEBODY, WHO AIN’T FIGHTING FOR ME

Tasuku had to drive his car to the student’s house after one of Tsumugi’s student’s parent quickly phoned the most recent contact.

“Tsumugi?” Tasuku answered, putting his phone between his ear and shoulder as he was supervising Winter Troupe’s street act on Veludo Way. Homare was pretending to be the equivalent of William Shakespeare, which didn’t require much acting to begin with. People loved it, though! Tsumugi couldn’t contribute since he had a study session. Maybe academics were really wearing him down, he looked more tired than ever.

“Hi, is this a friend of Tsumugi’s?” A woman with a worried voice asked. Tasuku put the flyers down as he held the phone, concerned, as he caught Azuma’s eyes staring intently. Had he always besn this curious? He usually minded his business.

“Yes, is everything okay?” Tasuku questioned, watching as Azuma made a graceful exit from the act as he made his way to Tasuku’s side. Tilting his head to the side, Azuma caught Tasuku’s face pale. Muttering a quick thanks and asking to be texted some address, Tasuku immediately started his car parked on the side without wasting a moment. Before he could run off, Azuma gripped Tasuku’s forearm and narrowed his eyes.

“What just happened?” Azuma inquired, his gut feeling proving him right when Tasuku shook his head. Stepping back, Azuma sighed as he notified Homare and Hisoka of their departure. When Azuma shuffled into the passenger seat, there was no time to put on his seatbelt as Tasuku punched in the address into the GPS and sped off.

“It’s Tsumugi, isn’t it?” Azuma cursed, holding onto the armrest as Tasuku’s grip on the wheel tightened. Tasuku didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“How’d you know?” Tasuku questioned, his voice carrying for miles. It sounded like an order, but Azuma fell silent and focused on the cars driving by. Tasuku swore before hitting the dashboard, making Azuma jump in his seat.

“How did you know?” Tasuku demanded again, even louder, as Azuma whipped his head to face him angrily.

“It’s not my place to say!” Azuma countered, immediately covering his mouth with his hand when he revealed there was something going on. Tasuku flinched, knowing it was the first time Azuma even raised his voice in fear of straining his vocal chords.

The rest of the car ride was silently tense. Azuma couldn’t help but shudder when he saw Tasuku carry a passed–out Tsumugi to lay in the back seat.

Tsumugi slept for the first time in a while. He woke up to something else other than his alarm.

Your text tone sounded. Tasuku checked the message, this time.

YOU DON’T NEED A BOYFRIEND,

TRUTH IS, YOU NEED A THERAPIST

You: I’m so sorry, Tsumugi. I like someone else, I’m sorry.

You started dating that friend of yours two days after Tsumugi officially called it quits on your friendship.

Tsumugi couldn’t sleep, all he could dream about was you. Tsumugi stopped setting alarms. Tasuku always turned them back on.

Life went on, for you.

[artificialqueens]

Stupid For You, Chapter 6 (Crygi, Jankie, Jaida x Nicky) - Metaluna

Fic summary: A cliche lesbian AU. It’s the summer before Gigi goes to college, and she decides it’s time to take a job at a local amusement park. There, she meets Crystal, a beautiful girl that she with bonds over the anxiety of the service industry. Almost immediately, Gigi gets it BAD for Crystal. Meanwhile, Jackie definitely ISN’T gay. She likes men. Only. Men. What happens when a beautiful girl named Jan comes into the picture? And lastly, Nicky flirts with anything with a pulse. Jaida falls for anyone who gives her attention. This is going to be one interesting summer.

Chapter summary: As things are tense between Gigi and Crystal, Jan tries her best to intervene. 

Crystal couldn’t sleep. All she could think about were the words she said that so deeply hurt Gigi. She didn’t know where they came from. They weren’t at all from a place of malevolence. It was as though the words came out and Crystal couldn’t stop them. Before she even realized what she had said, it was too late. She understood if Gigi didn’t forgive her, considering she wasn’t sure if she’d forgive her if the roles were reversed. After tossing and turning for hours, she looked at her phone. 6:30 A.M.

Since there was no point in sleeping for half an hour, she forced herself to get out of bed. Normally, she put on a full face of makeup. Today, she couldn’t even be bothered to do her eyebrows, opting instead to wear her thick rimmed glasses. Instead of her methodically done space buns, she threw up all her hair on top of her head without brushing it.

Walking to work was the last thing that she wanted to do, but her parents had to work, and she knew Ryan would still be mad. Right as she shut her door to embark on her walk, she heard a rumble of thunder. Shit.

Even with an umbrella, by the time Crystal arrived to work, she was soaked. Crystal sighed as she put her damp backpack into her locker. She tried her best to wipe the raindrops off her glasses, but smudged them in the process, making them worse. Even though she knew it wasn’t a big deal, Crystal was at the point emotionally where every small occurrence felt like the end of the world. She felt tears form. As she wiped them away, she hoped to God no one saw.

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice asked kindly. It was Jan, who was standing next to Jackie.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m great!” Crystal could hear the fake enthusiasm dripping from her voice. “Just… something in my eye!”

“Sis, we know something’s wrong.”

Jackie agreed. “You don’t look like yourself. Let’s go sit.”

The second Crystal sat down, she started crying. Jan reached out to hold her hand. “Talk to us.”

Crystal sniffled. “I think Gi…one of my friends, hates me.”

“Why would she hate you?” Jackie asked. Crystal could tell that both Jackie and Jan caught wind that she almost said “Gigi.”

“I said some really nasty things during an argument. I mean low blows, things that no one should ever bring up, especially not during an argument.”

“Listen here, gorg. If your friend really is your friend, she would understand. We all say stupid stuff that we don’t mean. I say stupid shit to Jackie every day and she still keeps me around.”

“Jan’s right. I’m sure if you apologize to your friend, she’ll forgive you.”

“Well, here’s the thing. I don’t deserve forgiveness. This is stuff that she told me in confidence. She trusted me with this information, and I literally threw it in her face.”

Crystal looked up and saw a skinny blonde out of the corner of her eye. She and Gigi locked eyes. Almost immediately, Gigi’s face turned from a neutral expression to one of malice.

By this point, Crystal was sure that Jan and Jackie figured out who she was talking about. “Gigi’s never going to want to talk to me again. Did you see the way she just looked at me?”

“Maybe it’s not what you think,” Jan said optimistically. “Maybe she just realized she forgot something. I’ll go talk to her.”

With that, Jan left Crystal confidently got up from the table and walked over to Gigi. Strategically, Jan made sure that the two of them were standing out of Crystal’s view.

“Jan, I’m not talking about this right now. Not here. Not now,” Gigi said firmly.

“But Crystal’s a wreck right now.”

“I don’t care.”

Jan was taken aback. “Okay, wow. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, frankly it’s not any of my business. But, something bad must have happened if you went from being hung up on her to not even being able to look at the girl. Right?”

“Be quiet! No one else knows I’m…” Gigi trailed of raising her eyebrows.

“Gotcha. But damn, whatever she said was a lot, wasn’t it?”

Gigi nodded. “I just don’t want to talk to her right now. I need time.”

“I respect that, and I’m sure she can too.”

The second Jan came back to the table, Crystal demanded, “What did she say?”

 “She said she needed time.”

“Okay, but could you tell how much time?”

Jan shrugged. Crystal knew she looked pathetic, and she didn’t care. One way or another, she was going to make it right with Gigi. She cared way too much about her to give up.

–

On her break, Gigi absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram. She felt her jaw clench as she saw a picture of Crystal and her boyfriend on a hike. She noticed how radiant Crystal looked at sunset. In the picture, Crystal was kissing Ryan’s cheek, and all Gigi could think of is how much she wished it was her. She mentally kicked herself for thinking that, because she was supposed to be mad at Crystal. If anyone knew how to hold a grudge, it was Gigi. She wanted nothing more than to be mad at Crystal, to completely shut her out. But, there was something about Crystal. Gigi couldn’t bring herself to stay mad at her. As Gigi looked up she saw that Crystal was sitting at the table diagonal to her. They locked eyes for a moment, and looked away at the same time.

Even though she told Jan she didn’t want to talk to Crystal, Gigi knew it was a lie. She wanted nothing more than to run up to Crystal’s table and to talk about what happened. As she stole a glance at the redhead, Gigi saw Crystal stare at her phone intensely. After appearing to type a small novel, she tossed her phone on the table and laid her head in her hands.

Gigi looked down so as not to raise suspicion. Once a few seconds passed, Gigi deemed it an appropriate time to look up again. Gigi had never seen Crystal look so stressed, but when Gigi decided she was going to go talk to her, Crystal left in a hurry. Something was very wrong.

–

Jan had a tendency to insert herself in her friend’s problems. It wasn’t her fault, she just wanted to help. If ever there was a time to help sort out friendship problems, it was now. Jan couldn’t stand to see Gigi any less than happy, and seeing Crystal without a smile on her face hurt. Jan promised Jackie she would stop “meddling” in her friend’s problems. But she had to step in. She had to, especially after Jackie told her horror stories of how friendships were ruined over petty drama each summer. Jan had a feeling this was a little more than petty drama, but she’d be damned if her friend group would get split up.

While she was in the bathroom fixing her eyeliner, Jan heard crying one of the bathroom stalls.

“Hello?” she called.

No one responded but whoever was crying tried their best to muffle them.

“Who’s in here?” she tried again.

Jan sauntered over to the bathroom door. She opened and then closed it, and waited. Eventually, Jan heard the stall door unlock, and as she heard the faucet turn on, she rounded the corner to see Crystal staring at herself in the mirror, eyes red and puffy.

“Crystal? What’s wrong?” Jan asked sympathetically.

“Just boyfriend stuff.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Crystal shook her head. “No.”

“Okay, well if you change your mind, you have my number.” Jan dramatically turned to leave. 

“Actually…”

“Yes?” Jan answered, turning around a little too quickly. Now was her chance to fix things.

“So, Ryan, my boyfriend, found out that I got really drunk at the party. He asked who got the alcohol, and I told him it was Gigi, and now he doesn’t want me to talk to her anymore.”

Jan raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Crystal questioned.

“Do you want me to sugarcoat it or do you want my honest opinion?”

“Can you sugarcoat it?”

“Actually. No. Crystal, that is the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard in my goddamn life.”

Crystal flinched. “Damn, tell me how you really feel.”

“You can’t let a boy tell you what to do.”

“He’s not just a boy… he’s my boyfriend.”

“Crystal that’s even worse!” Jan exclaimed. “Never let a significant other tell you what to do.”

“I don’t want to make him mad!”

Jan looked down at the bruise on Crystal’s arm, Instinctively, Crystal covered it with her hand. 

Jan groaned. “Crystal. Listen to me. If you let your boyfriend tell you how to live your life, you’re going to miss out on a lot.”

“But I love him,” Crystal whined.

“That may be so, but I can tell that you value your friendship with Gigi. Right?”

Crystal nodded.

“Okay, well you can’t ruin that.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

An idea formed. “I have an idea! Tomorrow’s National Roller Coaster Day.”

“And…?”

“And the park is staying open after close for all the employees to ride the rides. Me, Gigi, Jaida, and Nicky are all going together. You should come with us.”

Crystal hesitated. “I was going to hang out with my boyfriend. He’s gonna get mad if I cancel.”

“Come on, Crystal. When else are you going to get to hang out in an empty park with all your friends? Besides, like I say, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

“I don’t know Jan…”

“Just think about it, okay?”

“I guess.”

“’I guess’ is better than ‘no,’” Jan said with a smile.

As she closed the bathroom door, Jan was confident that she was going to make things better.

—

The next day, the excitement of the staff of Paradise Isle was palpable. Even for the rides staff who were working the event were excited, mainly for the overtime pay. As soon as 9 P.M. rolled around, the event was officially underway. Gigi had never seen the leads and supervisors clear the store so quickly.

As she and Jan headed to the bathroom, they planned everything they were going to do.

“I promised Jackie I’d bring her a funnel cake,” Jan said as she changed into a t-shirt with her future university’s logo. “It’s the least I can do since she’s working.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” Gigi said tucking her uniform into her backpack.

“Gigi…” Jan began.

“Yeah?” Gigi slung her backpack over her shoulder.

“I uh, may have told Crystal that she could join us.”

“You what?”

“I thought that it’d be a good idea. I thought that if we were in a group it wouldn’t be weird and you could maybe make up or something.”

“Oh, shit. This is bad. Jan… Why?” Gigi groaned.

“In hindsight, this was a horrible idea.”

“You think?” Gigi’s tone was harsh, which made Jan cringe. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I deserve that. I’m sorry. I should have ran it by you.”

Gigi sighed as they left the bathroom. “It’s what it is. It’s done now. Maybe you’re right.”

Nicky texted the Gigi that she and Jaida would be waiting for her and Jan at The Landing. After scanning the area for a moment, Gigi saw her friends and waved.

“Hey, bitches!” Jaida greeted with a hug.

“What’d you two do today on your day off?” Jan asked.

Nicky and Jaida just exchanged a look.

“Ah. 10-4,” Gigi said rolling her eyes.

“Is Crystal joining us?” Nicky asked.

“I sent her a text, let me see if she responded,” Jan said as she unlocked her phone. “Damn. She said she’s going hiking with her boyfriend, and that she wishes she could have come.”

“Well she could have,” Jaida said with an eyeroll.

Gigi didn’t say anything, but internally was filled with relief.

Everyone was having an incredible time. Not having to wait for more than ten minutes for anything made the rides even more fun. After riding Sinbad’s Adventure, which was the smallest of the three roller coasters in the park, three times in a row, Jan announced. “Ladies, I need a break.”

The others muttered in agreement, and made their way to a table.

“What’s our game plan?” Jaida questioned.

“Hmm,” Nicky began. “Do you want to do all the lame rides on The Boardwalk?”

“I could take lame right about now,” Jan said. “Plus I told Jackie I’d get her funnel cake.”

“Why did she decide to work?” Nicky asked.

“She wanted doubletime pay. Plus, she claimed that once you go to an after-hours event, the novelty wears off.”

Gigi rubbed her back. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes!” Jan sprung up. “Let’s go ladies.”

Gigi had to admit, the rides that Nicky called lame were some of her favorites. They brought upon a wave of nostalgia of when she and her sister used to come to the park every summer. The way all the carnival-style rides’ signs lit up made her heart soar.

Once they did all of the rides on The Boardwalk in record time, Nicky asked. “Jan, do you feel up to going on The Genie?”

Jan nodded. “Jackie texted me and told me if I didn’t bring her a funnel cake soon, she’s going to eat her left foot.”

“We can’t let that happen!” Jaida said dramatically.

Gigi and Jan linked arms as they skipped to The Backlands. By the time they made it to the roller coaster, Gigi’s legs felt sore. She made a mental note that she’d have to make use of her university’s gym come fall.

“Baby!” Jan exclaimed as she saw Jackie at the greeter position.

“Gimme!” Jackie said as she snatched the funnel cake, taking a bite.

“Are you supposed to do that?” Nicky questioned.

“I’m your lead, how dare you speak to me like that!” Jackie said haughtily. “Nahh, literally no one gives a shit right now. I’m not even supposed to be standing here right now. Greeter isn’t a position that’s up right now.”

“Let’s ride in the front!” Jaida suggested.

“Oh, Jesus,” Jan groaned.

“We can ride in the second row,” Gigi suggested.

The front was an extra cycle’s wait, but no one cared. As they waited, Gigi looked around, and in the fifth row Gigi saw familiar red hair in familiar spacebuns. She felt her stomach drop harder than the Jinn ever did.

Gigi felt her body tense, which Jan noticed. “Gigi, what–”

“Shit,” Nicky breathed. She and Jaida weren’t well-versed in the situation, but they both knew something was up with Gigi and Crystal.

Crystal was standing next to Widow, and her expression went from excited to deer-in-the-headlights. Gigi felt her heart pound. Did Crystal really hate her that much? If she didn’t want to see her, why didn’t she just say so? Gigi had so many questions, and knew she wasn’t going get answers to any of them. Without saying a word, she through the exit gate.

“Should we…” Jaida trailed off.

“I got it,” Jan said.

“Are you sure?” Nicky questioned.

Jan nodded. On her way out, she gave Crystal the nastiest look she’d ever given in her life and said, “You really fucked up. I hope you know that.”

[bigskydreaming]

Here's a random question for you: I know you're a big (the biggest) proponent of Scanny, but if you had to pick someone else for Danny to have a relationship with, who would it be?

I actually have thought about this! Honestly, my go to after Scott for Danny is Mason, because the younger characters are literally only two years younger than the original characters even if it seemed otherwise a lot of the time. And so given that we never saw Danny and Mason interact due to the whole ‘oh sure, he totally graduated offscreen a year early just in time to not be around for the season that revolved entirely around his specific expertise aka hacking’ nonsense....I can easily imagine a few years in the future, Danny and Mason meet in college or grad school or somewhere they’re on even footing and learn they have mutual friends/experiences/knowledge in common and from there grow into a friendship and also maybe then they’re boyfriends and then husbands and then dads and then grandpas and happily ever after yada yada.

Meanwhile, if Danny encountered Liam at any age, I feel like he would just be like: “No.” And then wave his hand around in Liam’s direction in a circle like to encompass all of him, as he’s all. “All of this is just exhausting, whatever it is. I am too old and too tired to deal with this....vibe you’re emitting.”

LOL I can’t explain it, like Liam and Mason have entirely different energies and I feel that age isn’t even a factor as to why Danny would just not at all have patience for Liam. Like, I don’t think he’d DISLIKE him exactly, so much as just....’I’m going to be over here, and you’re going to stay over there, and I just think that’ll be best for everyone and we’ll all get along great that way.”

Hmm, who else. Controversial I guess, but I actually did kinda like Dethan, waaaay back at the very beginning of it, before that very same season crapped all over any real potential it or even the twins at all had in the show. Given that I’m fine with them and even like them in AUs or fics that diverge before they had anything to do with Boyd’s death, but if that’s at all in canon for a story, I have no interest in them as anything other than cannon fodder. Which let’s be real, you always kinda have a need for in TW stories. 

But initially, I REALLY REALLY liked the fact that there was this (at the time) mysterious new character that was there for DANNY, like, deliberately seeking him out because of real or suspected significance....I was all for that, because I was like yes, excellent, clearly this means they have plans to focus more on Danny and bring him into the core group eventually and also obviously Danny’s gonna turn this guy away from the Dark Side and make him betray his pack of overcompensating losers for Danny and the power of LOVE because who doesn’t love that trope, am I right? Its all so clearly laid out!

Ahhh, to be that dumb again.

Anyway, so in AUs or early canon-divergent fics, I can be all for Danny and a better, more fleshed out and non-jackass depiction of Ethan. But by the time Ethan returns in actual canon, the fact that he’s with Jackson just irritates me in a ‘hooking up with your ex’s best friend is a jerk move and we get it, show, you don’t consider Danny important and never did, jfc’ kinda way. Beyond that though, I’m just like, Jackson can have him at that point, they deserve each other, go Team Jerkwad.

I don’t see Theo and Danny ever happening because I like to think that Danny’s view on scheming, ambitious and boundary-breaking friends with possible homicidal inclinations has changed since Jackson and Ethan’s presences in his life, and he’s like.....”Nah, I’m not doing that again. Two of that type are enough for me, and I’m kinda always gonna put up with Jackson at this point because...look, I had my reasons probably, just because I can’t remember the basis of our friendship now, like....just back off, okay?”

Just saying, I don’t think he’d inherently hate Theo if Theo’s story happens in an AU kinda way where he doesn’t murder and betray his way through the show’s social hierarchy, lol, but Danny would still just be like “Look, whatever your issues are dude, I’m not trying to judge you for them if you don’t make me, but like, go put in some you-time offstage and then maybe we can talk. I am not emotionally equipped to put up with the schemes of yet another person whose whole thing seems to be ‘am I good or bad, you decide, because I sure as hell can’t.’ I don’t care how big your biceps are, that is not going to be a deciding factor for me, not this time, no sir, I have learned from my mistakes, I have had hashtag Growth, and you need to go now, and also please put on a shirt. I SAID GOOD DAY, SIR!”

Danny and Stiles is Lol That’s A No For Me, of course, Danny and Boyd I would be totally down for and can picture them being like, a snark queen power couple who hang back and watch all the drama unfold around them while providing entertaining commentary back and forth to each other but otherwise act like they’re not even there, and when someone annoyed by their running commentary finally snaps and goes “Why are you two even here?” like, I can so picture Danny and Boyd just blinking slowly and looking at them, then at each other, then back at them as if confused by the question. 

“It’s Date Night,” Danny says slowly, in the tone reserved for being asked to solve the equation on the board that’s already got the answer written out right there.

“Okay, fine. But why are you HERE, then? If its your Date Night, like.....go have your date then. Catch a movie. Its all good, we don’t need you guys here at the moment.”

Boyd squints at them. “This IS our date. Whoppers?”

The latter is directed to Danny, as Boyd extends the box of candy towards him.

“Yes please,” Danny says, reaching for a handful.

Exasperated sighs are heard all around the room.

LOL anyway....who else....Jackson tends to be a no for me too, not for any real reason beyond like....I’ve read too many fics where they’re essentially treated as the Mirror Universe version of S/ciles, and you KNOW how I feel about that ship, so like, all even dubiously associated ships are by mere proxy also noped by me. *Shrugs*

Which mostly just leaves Isaac, and....idk, tbh. I’m not inherently opposed to them, and I’ve actually even read a couple of fairly long-ish and pretty enjoyable Danny/Isaac fics. But enjoyable in the sense of like....just as their own thing, a fun romance set in the TW setting/universe, between Danny and an Isaac-shaped woobiewolf. As the few Danny/Isaac fics I’ve found over the years tend to suffer from the exact same thing that’s always kept me from really ever getting into Scott and Isaac as a couple in anything other than theory...

Like, in the fics I’ve tried, I always tend to run into the same tendency to just....sand down all of Isaac’s rough edges and make him this shy, insecure, soft boy who is withdrawn until Danny or Scott bring him out of his shell....even when its based on the events of the show and Isaac’s already been turned into his leather jacket-wearing, snark-wielding, deliberately apathetic werewolfsona. 

And that’s just...not Isaac to me? So if I treat him as an original character basically, I can enjoy those stories, and do, just because there’s sooooo little Danny-centric fic that awhile back, I absolutely spent a good year or so making sure like, I found every last scrap of it, lol. I went spelunking in some deep, dark places in search of even a little spotlight time for Danny, because He Deserved Better and I was willing to put up with a lot to see him get even a little (except for like, blatant and unavoidable Scott hate being front and center in the fic as well. Then I exited with rapidity. I love Danny, but not even for him can I stomach that).

But yeah, otherwise, I very very rarely found a lot of Isaac fics, no matter who he was paired with, where he wasn’t like....constantly soft and vulnerable and the focus of Scott or Danny or whomever else’s regular attempts to comfort and protect him. Which I mean, I love Isaac, and I’m always projecting onto abuse survivors in fiction even if just a little bit, so its not that I object to the comfort and desire to protect him parts, just the sheer unevenness that tends to be present in his dynamics as well. I’ve always said that for me, the true theme of TW was survivor empowerment, that all of these kids had been hurt and exploited and traumatized in various ways and they all struggled individually and together to find ways to cope and to heal, and also to feel empowered enough to protect THEMSELVES from whatever or whomever tried to hurt them again in the future. 

And that’s the element that so often is missing from Isaac’s arc in fics, IMO...any hint of the character who he spent a lot of time and effort growing into on the show. Evolving first into a character who reveled in the power he’d been given and that made him feel safe and strong for the first time in his life, to the point where he was quite frankly an asshole a lot of the time. 

But then from there he grew into a character who came to terms with the reality that as his own power grew, so did the power of the new tormentors he was now often in conflict with, due to the source of his newfound strength...and his strength and brutality and apathy were not at all the tools able to help him find true protection and recovery in his new world. They just weren’t going to get the job done, and that’s when he started to let Scott’s example sink in and take his lead from that, finding the power and strength in committing himself more to others, becoming more of an active participant rather than just a spectator or a henchman who needed orders before acting.....allowing himself to be vulnerable in exchange for the benefits being more open to others afforded him.

Isaac’s growth onscreen from season to season was the very thing that made him so interesting and enjoyable to me....as well as how his bond with Scott did the same thing....so when the former isn’t really present in fics, even the presence of the latter doesn’t really do a whole lot for me. And its the same thing in the Danny/Isaac fics I read, so yeah. There for it in theory, but the execution I’ve found has never done anything to make it any more compelling a ship possibility than any other random ship.

I think that’s pretty much everyone though? Well I mean like, there’s Corey, but I don’t have strong feelings about that possibility one way or another. And there’s Derek, given the whole ‘Miguel’ thing in S1, but you know me, even in future/aged-up settings, I still tend to be ‘what if Derek dated people his own damn age tho, like just for the sheer novelty, let’s explore that some more’.....not to mention that as the show progressed, the more fandom hated on Braeden and her relationship with Derek, the more I spite-shipped them. To the extent that now I find it hard to picture even AUs where they’re not endgame, or if Derek HAS to be in another ship for some reason, then they still were a super serious relationship before the fic and there’s always that hint of her being the one that got away, kinda. 

*Shrugs* What can I say? The enemy ship of my enemy is my OTP. The Art of War, fandom style. I have no problem admitting it, lolol.

But yeah, that’s all of them I think now.

[ms31x129]

The end is here Chapter 7! I went simple with this DJ Jackson/William was shaped by 2 couples who loved him. That’s at the heart of this incredible story, imho.  @cultureisdarkbeer @monikafilefan @today-in-fic

Chapter 1 - Courage to Jump Tumblr LINK  AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 2: Luck of the Irish Tumblr LINK or AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 3: Graffiti of the Heart Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 4: Leave Your Demons At The Door Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 5: Truth Is the Pain Inside Our Hearts Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 6: Final Destination Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE. 

Chapter 7: Full Circle <<AO3 Link or if you like Tumblr you know the drill clickity-click on the Keep Reading link below. 

{Summary:

Jackson’s journey has come full circle, but what happens before it finally comes to an end?}

“Everything has a way of coming full circle. It takes patience and perseverance to see a dream through… to close that circle. Because some dreams, like some circles, can be much bigger than others.” -Karen Dale Trask

The fresh spring breeze tousled Jackson’s unruly hair. It either frizzed or flopped around his cowlick and left him consistently smoothing it down more often than not. He couldn’t help but wonder who he’d gotten that trait from: Mulder or Dana? Would he call her Dana or Mother or… Mom? Not that. He didn’t think he could ever find it in his heart to call anyone Mom again.

Jackson couldn’t help but think back to the moment he first spoke face to face with his birth mother. After hearing her heartfelt confession in the morgue, the one that made his gut tumble to his toes, he made a silent promise that he would talk to her at some point in the future. He just had no idea that the chance to make good on that promise would present itself so soon after he made it. He had just endured the worst day of his life after witnessing his parents lying lifeless on the floor covered in blood, and then hearing the words of a mother he never thought he’d meet left him reeling. Using Ghouli for selfish reasons had him feeling overwhelming guilt; yet seeing her and Mulder, under the guise of an illusion at that off-the-beaten-path gas station, had softened the ironclad armor he was trying so hard to construct around his heart...

The bell attached to the gas station door chimed and a tall man walked in.

“Can I get $40 on the SUV out there, please?” Jackson could see the attendant in his peripheral ringing the guy up as he popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. He watched the man turn to him and nod up at the TV where the Pirates and Nats were tied in the bottom of the 4th inning.

“You follow baseball?” His voice was low and smooth in a familiar sort of way that flowed over Jackson with ease.

Feeling a wave of goosebumps spike across his arms, he glanced over inside his illusion and directly locked eyes with the man his birth mother had embraced in the morgue: Fox Mulder.

Slowly nodding, Jackson answered, “I’m a Yankee’s fan myself.”

“Me, too!”

“Too bad I’m leaving town. Maybe, we could have caught a game,” Jackson sighed, confused that he actually meant it.

Mulder shrugged and scoffed at the pop fly to the pitcher's mound. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I bet a G-man can get good seats.” He nudged Mulder’s arm and pointed to the exposed badge sticking out of his jacket pocket.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at Jackson, the same ones he saw in the mirror every day. “Good eye.”

He huffed. “Gotta have one nowadays.”

Mulder smirked, nodding in agreement, and a flicker of sadness washed over his face as the screen focused in on a father and son laughing as they cheered on their team. “Years ago, I had the hope of taking my own son to a game.”

A knot began to form in Jackson’s throat. He cleared it and decided to leave a little something for the obvious emotionally worn-down man standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with him. “Well, maybe one day you can. Don’t give up.”

The smell of baked goods caught his attention and the memory of his first encounter with his birth father faded. He ventured over to the small mom-and-pop shop called “Little Virginia’s Bakery and Novelty Shop” with a renewed sense of purpose and food on the brain.

“Perfect!” His empty stomach rumbled in agreement.

For being an out-of-the-way shop, the little place held a few farmers, a family of three, and an elderly couple tucked away in the back. The sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar filled the air and Jackson’s mouth watered instantly.

“Hi there!” The silver haired woman stood from her corner table to greet him. “Welcome to Little Virginia’s. Hungry?” Her brown eyes trailed him from head to toe, assessing his dirty, worn jeans, well-loved jacket, and mussed hair. Jackson was sure he would hear a grandmother-like lecture about taking good care of himself; one he knew he’d never heard from one of his own. But, instead, she smiled and nodded to the bakery case. “How about I get you a nice carb-filled breakfast while you take a look around the place? Can’t help but assume you just might like something you see.” She pointed to the baseball on his shirt from his Freshman year travel league team—which he was reluctantly kicked off of for skipping too many practices.

“Uh, sure, okay. Thanks,” he stammered, unsure of what she meant by that yet followed her gaze to the wall behind him. Gasping, he wandered over to the large shelving unit filled with snow globes. “Wow!”

The wall was covered with a wide array of different sized globes. Each one was unique in design and meaning. Just like the collection back in his room that he’d never see again, he thought bitterly. He scanned each shelf from top to bottom, searching for one that called to him. It was something that he and his mom used to do on family vacations when they visited tourist shops.

Jackson slowed his mind and chose not to fight against the happier memory tickling at his brain of his very first snow globe that sparked not only the start of his collection, but his interest in all things cryptid...

“Jackson? There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” his mom chastised, grabbing his arm and kneading it between her fingers. “You wandered off again and left me wondering where my son’s imagination had decided to lead him this time.”

He sighed, hoping he wouldn’t be grounded later because of the strong attraction to what was staring him in the face at the moment. “Sorry, I just saw this and liked it.”

With a ruffle of his thick hair that dipped along his forehead, his mom chucked. “That certainly is an… interesting snow globe.” Jackson shook it and the white, glittery flecks swirled like a storm. “Why this one? It doesn’t seem to fit your space-themed bedroom.”

A grin spread across his chocolate stained mouth. “Oh, it does, Mom. Just like with outer space, there’s mystery behind the existence of Sasquatch. You know, guesses...”

She shook her head. “Theories, you mean,” she corrected, “just like with space. Jackson, you are too smart for your own good, you know that?”

His mom teased yet it was the truth; and he knew it. He knew a lot of things he wished he didn’t. “Yeah, I do.”

“Hey, kid!” A deep voice snapped Jackson’s eyes open and back to the shop. He stared at a man through one of the large glass globes and nearly laughed at the distorted fun house image he saw looking back. “You alright?”

“Yeah, uh yes, I’m fine,” he said, quoting his usual line when anyone asked how he was. “Just checking these out. I used to collect them, actually.” He wasn’t sure why he was sharing personal information with a stranger. He’d never done that before, but the kindness in the man’s eyes reminded him of his dad.

“Used to?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just haven’t added to my old collection in a few years.”

“Well,” the man started as he adjusted his hat, “looks to me like you’re ready to start a new one.” Jackson raised a brow and watched as the man went and sat back down in his chair with a smirk peeking out from his mustache.

As Jackson continued to look through the mass of watery globes, he considered that the old man was right. Starting something new was exactly what he was hoping to accomplish. Just then, a ray of sunlight struck the glass on a small, circular one out of the corner of his eye. It sat on the shelf nestled in a row of sports themed snow globes. The one he felt compelled to touch left him baffled at the significant meaning. If he weren’t fully aware of the pain-free feeling in his skull, he might think the image inside the globe was a snapshot of a future vision.

Holding it up into the light, the tiny people inside painted an exact picture of a life that Jackson thought he was never meant to have.

A man stood on the pitchers mound, arm wound back in an arc, ready to let loose a curveball with the way his fingers were gripped around the seams. The batter was a boy with brown hair who leaned over the plate, wooden bat cocked back and poised in the air. There was a woman sitting on a grassy hill near the boy, strands of her red-gold hair were fisted within a tiny infants grasp cradled in her arms. In that moment, Jackson actually believed that fate was calling.

Over an hour later, Jackson had made it to the desolate Wallis road, his belly full and spirits lifted, but a part of his heart remained heavy. Nature called, so he found a tree among the weeds to relieve himself. As he zipped back up, in the far distance he noticed the roof of the house, and reality punched him square in the solar plexus. Would the DoD pick up his trail? By taking these next steps, did it place them all in danger? Maybe they had moved on and were a happy family without him—complete and worry free.

Maybe, his trek should end where he stood.

His thumb rubbed the glass auricle buried deep in his jacket pocket; the crinkled letter folded next to it worn by years, travel, and his own perspiration poked at the back of his hand. Both of them provided reassurance. Perhaps, another link from the past held an answer along with some courage. There was still one line left to read after all. Carefully, with trembling fingers he unfolded the paper and the heart-wrenching words flowed freely from his lips.

“And in that moment, you will be blessed… and stricken… for the truest truths are what hold us together, or keep us painfully, desperately apart .”

An explosion of images seared through his brain in a rapid fire of painful impulses, like an electrical storm burning across his neurons. He was assaulted by her face, her voice, her scent... It was then that Jackson refocused, the revelation that he had returned to a monumental moment in the past—a crucial turning point, as he began to walk his mother’s path one last time.

March 22, 2002

Her hands shook as she closed the door and entered her dark, silent apartment. She tore her purse, shoes, and jacket off in the entryway and let them fall carelessly to the floor. Her heart beat wildly within her chest as intense anxiety buzzed through her body, like a saw blade humming through flesh. Pushing it away yet again, she stumbled through the dim hallway, stopping abruptly as she came to a cracked open door.

She gasped, taking in the sight of the empty crib. Ignoring the voice in her head that Jackson could hear screaming for her to run—to hide and shut it all away, she allowed her fingertips to dance along the cool wooden bed where her son should lay dreaming. With a trembling chin, she reached in and grabbed his cream blanket, the one her mother had knitted for him when she hadn’t yet known to use pink or blue.

“Mom…” Jesus, her mother will never understand; she might always blame her for searching for answers to obscure questions when her miracle was held within her arms. She slammed her eyes shut as the memory of her mother’s advice played out behind her lids for Jackson to witness…

February 18, 2002

Sliding her arms into her jacket as she prepared to leave, she said, “Mom, it’s important. I wouldn’t go if it weren’t.”

Frustrated, her mother shook her head and clutched baby William tighter against her hip. “Yes, I know, Dana. You say it’s about getting answers.”

Shaking her head, she sighed and her eyes flicked to her son playing with his grandmother’s sweater, blissfully unaware of his role in life. “Answers about William, Mom.”

“I know you’re worried about him—that there are things about him that you just can’t explain. But, even if you were to get those answers, what would it change?”

With emotions flaring, her voice trembled as she tried to explain in the simplest way possible. “Mom, he’s my child.”

Refusing to back down and stay silent, she pleaded with her daughter to listen. “And you have to love him and raise him in spite of everything.” Stepping closer, her mother’s tone softened as her hazel eyes met watery blue. “Dana, God has given you a miracle. A child that wasn’t supposed to be.” Gazing down at her grandson with pride, she offered, “Maybe, it’s not to question—just to be taken as a matter of faith.”

Feeling lost and alone with horrible thoughts swirling of what secrets may be out there regarding her son, she stared at her mother’s worried expression and told her the truth. “Mom, I can’t take this on faith. I need to know,” she explained, soothing William’s soft, fuzzy hair, wishing she could fully trust what her heart was telling her. “I need to know if it’s really God I have to thank...”

Jackson felt his mother stiffen as her own memory melted away. Her eyes snapped open yet the residual turmoil of her mother’s words remained entwined like barbed wire within her chest.

“Oh, Mom...” she whispered and bit her lip until it hurt almost as much as her heart.

She inhaled a deep breath, her knees buckling at the strong baby scent and that’s when she saw it: her own withdrawn, broken reflection in the small mirror hung above the rocking chair. How could she look herself in the mirror ever again and not see someone who had simply given up, who didn’t have the courage to stand by her son and fight to the death to protect him? His father would have if he were here. Yet, she sent him away to keep their son safe, and now she was left with nothing.

Guttural cries finally burst free from her mouth, the awful feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed her. Pressing the scent of their baby boy to her face, she screamed into the yarn of the blanket as her emotions warred on. Her mother: a God-fearing woman who forgives as easily as she loves, would never forget what her daughter had done here tonight.

Emptiness echoed in the silence, fatigue pulled at the weariness beneath her lids as her fingers ran along the soft stitching connecting the satin to the plush cotton. Her body felt hollow, like a shell that held nothing but an ocean of tears and shards of glass wedged between her soul and her heart.

It hurt to be in her son’s room where he slept and played and nursed and listened to her terrible singing and… it hurt to breathe. “Oh God, Mulder, please forgive me.”  

A heavy layer of sorrow covered her chest, suffocating her. The reality of her decision surrounded her with every shallow breath she took. “Mulder, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, fiery tears burning her down the column of her throat. “Our truest truth… our son, he’s held us together and now… and now desperately apart.”

No matter if her choice was right or not, William was their son: a living breathing product of their everlasting love, their miracle… and now he was gone. No matter her constant worry of the safety and origin of the miracle she held within her arms every day—had loved unconditionally the moment she knew he existed; she had willingly given away a part of her and Mulder’s love. A love so strong that it conquered the impossible and produced a wondrous gift. In that very moment, she knew she would carry this heaviness in her heart until the day she died. And Jackson felt her terrible thought that just maybe, she deserved to.

He felt his mother slipping away from his grasp as she road the roaring tide of her emotions. She and her gut-wrenching sobs were fading, drifting off into darkness where he knew she would rebuild her fortress of stoicism in order to survive, dimming the remaining light in her life as the vision did the same for him.

Time stretched like a rubber band connecting the past to the present. Jackson separated achingly slow from his mother’s grief with images fading into the back of his mind as his own anguish took hold.

“Ah, dammit!” The sheer agony that had coursed through her veins was enough for Jackson to still taste the metallic remnants of blood from her gnawed bottom lip within his own mouth. The upheaval of emotional static was in his head, shredding it from the inside—the side effects of constant fears and self-doubt. The selfless suffering felt from an unconditional love took away a piece of him as it took from her, unraveling the purity in his soul.

He felt his chin tremble uncontrollably, like it did when he was nine and was teased on the playground for being “weird.” He felt it: the last remaining bricks of the wall that stood to protect and uphold his heart crumbled, leaving him bare and exposed. The flashback sucked the breath from his chest and he folded, collapsing into himself and driving him to his knees.

Squinting up at the sun with a sheen of sweat across his brow, he clenched his fists, blanching his knuckles as nails dug deeply into the palms of his hands. Slamming them to the ground, Jackson screamed. The sound piercing the early afternoon sky like an air raid siren, unleashing the remaining demons from the scars that had refused to heal. The agony left his lungs with the strength of a gale force wind, begging the sun for its rays of light to soothe away the darkness. The torment felt as though it ripped his muscles, bones, and flesh to shreds. His dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears and the dam burst when his emotions surged against it. Crystal beads streamed from his deep blue eyes as heaving sobs tore at his throat and wracked his chest—the weight of his grief pressing him into the ground where he knelt.

Within the last year, he had cried all of three times: the night of his parent’s death, once out of sheer loneliness, and now from the effects of this letter. These words from his mother had saved him from the monster, the one indifferent to suffering and sorrow, and got him to feel.

Jackson dug into the dirt with the balls of his feet and pushed off, taking mighty strides as he sprinted before even aware of the conscious decision. His bag bounced along his shoulders, his long dark colored locks whipping back and forth behind him as he leapt large rocks and dodged roots. Charged with adrenaline surging through his veins, he had to keep running forward; nothing would stop him now. As quick as his long legs could carry him, his shoes hammered the hard earth that mimicked the pounding in his chest. The smell of bark and pine invaded his nostrils, his burning lungs begging for air, but Jackson embraced the pain. His shirt clung to his form, damp with sweat and tears and he ran, feeling her presence like he could feel her mind. He finally let down the mental barrier he had held up against reaching out and into her mind, liberating him.

All the signs, all the things leading him to reach this very path was fate; it had intervened and he knew now—felt it now… William needed to come home.

Now, the boy who had always felt split in two was whole. Now, he was finally fine . He was free.

By the time he reached the gated driveway to the property, the pain had dissipated as hope and truth dominated. One hand rested on the cold iron; his limbs on fire as he panted, trying to catch his breath. The well-worn house stood taller now—a simple A-frame with a couple dormers and extended front porch. The fence surrounding the property consisted of many shades of weathered wood, time and sunlight painting it several grayish and brownish hues. Beyond its confines stood a patchwork quilt of several grasses and wildflowers, sewn together by a dusty road. For a glimmer of a moment, he envisioned a little sister running through the rolling grass, chasing a dog to hug and cuddle, the puppy stealing licks while they laughed in amusement and drank tea on the front porch.

Jackson pulled open the heavy gate and stepped onto the familiar ground his feet had yet to tread. A deep breath calmed his rising nerves, as did walking through the tall wheat grass swaying in the open breeze. It all reminded him of his childhood farm and working the fields with his dad.

The land here grew wilder than his dad would allow, although so did he and, he suspected, so did the pair that occupied that house. He continued on, the rhododendrons now in full bloom overpowered the nearby flowers. They greeted his senses and he became more engrossed, living in the moment like he had never experienced before. This was real. His futuristic visions foreshadowed death and hellfire, reeking of ash and rot. But here, only birds sang and thick, green foliage swayed with the breeze, covering the sound of distant traffic.

For so long his thoughts never stopped spinning, visions of pasts and futures, the constant questioning of himself was nothing but a furnace of pain hidden beneath a forced smile and occasional happiness. All of that stood silent now. For the first time in his life there were no thoughts, only instincts. Ones that he trusted. So he continued walking along the gravely dirt driveway, up the worn steps to stand at their faithful door.

Somehow it all made sense, that the flashback visions would take him back to where this all began, bringing him full circle to find the truth; taking him back to the night where his old life had ended and was given a new one. The night William M. Scully became Jackson Van de Kamp. He was both Jackson and William, he realized: Chimera born—one boy with two sets of parents who loved him. One remarkable teen with a remarkable past standing on the porch of an unremarkable house, hoping to share a future with those who sacrificed everything for him.

Jackson had navigated his way through his birth mother’s past and his own—effectively finding himself during a time when he was truly lost. And, now, the son of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully would finally cross their threshold as his whole self, an open book written in a language only they could fully understand.

A flutter of nervousness began to churn in his gut. He shut his eyes, inhaling a deep breath and counted to ten, recalling what his dad had told him to do when he felt this way. Those familiar words of wisdom embraced him, giving him the push he needed to let loose three confident knocks to the squeaky screen door. Footfalls and muffled voices could be heard through the oak door and his heart pounded through his shirt.

A smile pulled at Jackson’s lips when he realized that he was standing inches from the proverbial edge of what was his leap of faith for a new beginning, completely unafraid and committed to jump.

[bereft-of-frogs]

So we ended up on a ‘rewatching Ragnarok level tonight’. I might double up and also watch Guardians of the Galaxy in bed to fall asleep tonight, but we’ll see.

I had a Day. And also I’ve been kind of nostalgic lately, for the period of time in between seeing Ragnarok and seeing Infinity War. It’s not really about the movies or fandom - I mean part of it is, but it’s way more about the emotional and professional place I was in in that time period. I was still in the coursework phase of graduate work (which is really the part I excel at and the part that made me happy), I was in really good shape, I had a lively and varied social life. I’ve just been in kind of a rut for the last year. I even find myself missing my old apartment which is sort of ridiculous. (The apartment itself was nice, but I had a roommate who I didn’t like and my current apartment feels much more mine.) It’s just all about how do I get that back? The feeling I had then. Where did it go? Why do I feel like this now?

I do have some actual real-life ideas of the why and how, but since those are like...long term things, my solution to that tonight was...rewatching Ragnarok XD

Thus, here are some thoughts:

- I do wish they’d slowed down the pacing of the first like...15 minutes a bit but that’s mostly because I would take a whole 2 hour movie of Thor and Loki sniping at each other. But I guess that’s what fanfiction’s for. ;-)

[also, if you’re asking me ‘but what would you cut to make that part longer’ the answer is just that comic strip of the dog being like ‘No cuts! Only more!’]

- there are a couple things where I’m like ‘@self, that would have been a rad detail to include, well, too late now.’ mostly the whole ‘knocking on the door of the Sanctum and then you’re just inside’ bit. That would have been rad to include, somewhere. Namely in the chapter of ‘bound at the end of the world’ where Thor and Steve go to visit Strange. Eh. Too late, oops.

- “Father, it’s us” THAT FEELS SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONALLY (more significant even than the ‘my sons’ line, which admittedly does get the good face reaction)

- I really need to make another running playlist with more of the Ragnarok score on it, this shit is great running music

- I’m really into the focus on euphemism on Sakaar. “People come from far and wide to unwillingly participate” Like that’s part of what makes it such fun dub con fodder, it’s all about the veneer of being okay and then you peel back the layers and it’s horrifying (similar to the thing I said earlier about how the Black Order doesn’t really scare me, but the Raft does). There’s that great moment that the writing engineers where you’re going along with it, and then trip into the horror. “People come from far and wide” *nodding along* “to unwillingly participate” *trip.* Dang. It’s really great that the writing can cause that drop in your stomach when you realize the dark truth behind the glamour. Dang.

- Loki also full body flinches away right when the Grandmaster interrupts his whispering with Thor. Every time, every fucking time I think I’ve gone too far, or read too much into things about Sakaar, canon just fucking does that...

(like I guess you can interpret it as surprised flinch, but with everything else...)

- also Hela says that Odin ‘banished me, caged me’ which is a nice callback to what Odin did to both Thor and Loki, in order

- also the chest touching ‘you’re not allowed to leave’ move, please canon, chill out a bit

- I 100% think earlier in the Hulk’s career on Sakaar, Thor doing the lullaby totally would have worked. Like, the Hulk had been there too long, he’d gotten too much control over Banner. (I’ve seen posts that are like ‘lol why did Thor think that would work’ and my two cents is the only reason it didn’t was because of the brutality of the arena and how long he’d been there)

- I do really like how clever and resourceful Thor is in this movie - contacting Heimdall, palming the controller off Valkyrie. I like smart Thor. :-)

- Loki and the Valkyrie’s fight. Still hot. Still makes me ship it. Enough said.

- and the visual effect of that flashback scene...iconic

- “I don’t want to fight your sister, that’s a family issue” I love how Bruce draws the line, like ‘I’ll fight your brother, but your sister...eh...’

- I would also take a lot more Thor and Bruce sniping, they are very entertaining. And like four full movies of Loki and the Valkyrie physically fighting. Just like. A lot of that. Yes.

- “...do you want revenge?” “Um, undecided.” Gold.

- god, the elevator scene. I can’t. “I should stay here.” “You’re right, you should stay here.” “TT_TT how could you think I should stay here?” Loki, you are a disaster. This scene is also probably the most honest scene they’ve ever had, through four films, and it’s like 80% lies and obfuscation, fuck

- ‘orgies and stuff’ CANON GO HOME YOU’RE DRUNK

- also, Thor and the Valkyrie fighting in sync. Also hot. Also makes me ship it. Hence the massively underrepresented OT3. (I think there are...12 Thor/Valkyrie/Loki fics on Ao3?)

- despite having not grown up with/interacted with her younger brothers until like two days ago, Hela really has the ‘get up, you’re in my seat’ delivery down pat. And it even works. (I only have like...a 70% success rate.)

- I hadn’t ever really caught that Hela calls herself ‘the savior of Asgard’ in her fight with Thor, I feel like that also has so much EMOTIONAL SIGNIFICANCE that then Loki is given that title a few minutes later

- Valkyrie’s wtf face when she realizes the Bruce Banner/Hulk thing is great

- Thor and Loki being Delighted With Each Other will always be the best part of the final battle

- another thing that contributes to what I think this movie does very well re: Thor and Loki’s relationship is all of their real conversations are like half conversations (the elevator scene being the major exception, which is more a conversation hidden beneath another one) - Thor doesn’t need to actually explain anything about Surtur’s crown and Ragnarok on the bridge - it’s this nice little half-said conversation that serves to prove that...they actually know each other, that they’ve grown up together, had all this experience together before it all fell apart. It’s part of what I really appreciate about their relationship here. Their relationship is so dramatic and fraught in the first three films they’ve appeared together in, which is beautiful in it’s own way (you all know I love me a good dramatic angst speech), but I think here we really see what foundation there is to lay the ground of a reconciled, renewed relationship.

- Thor’s little ‘what have I done?’ makes me SAD

- I’m still waiting on that fucking hug, Marvel. I will never stop waiting on that hug. I will keep fucking writing fanfiction where they hug, and cuddle, and kiss each other’s foreheads, and cheeks, and touch each other, even just little touches to the arm or back to get the other’s attention. I will keep writing fucking PLATONIC BEDSHARING until I get my GODDAMN HUG, Marvel, I swear I will!

- I wish I could like the comparison posts between the end of The Dark World Thor and Endgame Thor, but the problem is...I love his coronation at the end of Ragnarok so much (how quiet and unadorned and clearly supported by the people it is) that I just...can’t get behind having to rewind that arc. It was such a good one. From ‘I can’t be both king and a good man’ to ‘to be a good man in this moment means becoming king’ and the title and power don’t necessarily fit him perfectly but you get the sense that he can grow into it and make it his own, and honestly that’s probably a good thing, and that’s what makes it possible for him to be a good king...and I just...it was perfect. Having to do it a second time (because otherwise he’s just like.....giving up literally everything?) is just...ah. I don’t know.

So that’s it! We’ve reached the end! Clearly, the end in which Thanos arrives and things are bad but Thor and Loki both survive (and Heimdall, he survives too) and eventually they defeat Thanos and recover and build a life together ruling Asgard reborn OBVIOUSLY.

I’m really glad I did this. I think I rewatched Ragnarok in...April? Just before Endgame? But I definitely wasn’t paying attention, was doing something else (something somewhat unpleasant if memory serves) and stopped halfway through. This was fun, and helpful! (I think some of my voices and aesthetics had started slipping a little bit in writing. I should probably watch the other two Thor movies, and Infinity War again too, refresh the inspiration box in my brain.)

Okay! End movie night!

[dogbearinggifts]

Beauty in the Mundane Prologue: The End.

Umbrella Academy

Author’s Note: A fic based on this post by @scotty-the-t-rex. Your petition to have Hazel and Agnes adopt the Hargreeves kids has been answered, my friend.

This fic is also available on AO3.  

*********

1997 

The world was over. 

Hazel couldn’t hang onto the thought for long. If he pondered it for more than a few seconds, if he stopped and thought about all the cities and towns and plains and people who were now gone, his head spun the way it did when he drank too much and all four shots hit him at once. 

It wasn’t over yet, not in the year he and Agnes had jumped to. Late autumn, 1997 had seemed as good a place as any to seek refuge—not so far from the present they’d left to make their clothes stand out and their money unrecognizable, not so close that the apocalypse would loom over everything they did. The year held little significance aside from its status as a rest stop, a place to pause and breathe the air of a planet not yet engulfed in flame and ash. 

Knowing it was coming, knowing he had a means of escape, hadn’t made the brief glimpse he’d gotten any easier to bear. 

Agnes hadn’t gone far. She’d found a seat on a flattened rock close to the creek, the sort graduating seniors and happy young couples liked to use for yearbook and engagement photos, if the shows he’d watched were any reflection of reality. She’d adopted the same pose, too—back straight, hands on her knees, head turned slightly to stare out at the water. 

For a moment, Hazel simply watched her, watched a cold breeze lift strands of greying blonde hair, watched it bat them around before letting them fall back to her shoulders. The serenity about her, the calm lent by her pose and the breeze and the dappled sunlight across her back—it was an illusion, he knew. Reality had taken a minute or two to hit, but when it did, it seemed enough to knock her flat. Part of him wanted to let her be, but another part couldn’t leave her alone. Not again. 

Her glance toward him was brief, but not so brief he missed the mingled weariness and despair behind it. 

Hazel eased onto the rock beside her. The creek bubbled along, dashing over rocks and mud. How long it had been since he’d sat and listened to that particular melody, he couldn’t say. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing we could do?” 

Hazel bit his lip. In the past, he’d have pushed the guilt aside, found some distraction from it—but maybe that wasn’t how things ought to be done.

“Not with the time we had,” he said after a pause. “We were lucky to get out when we did.” 

“Maybe we could go back.” 

“Go back to what? Whole damn world’s destroyed.” 

“It can’t just….end like that.” Agnes turned, not quite facing him, but closer to it than she had been. “We can go back a—a little earlier, and maybe we can fix it.”

“How?” 

“Just find the point where everything went wrong, and then set it right. I don’t know, there—there’s got to be something.”  

Protect Vanya Hargreeves. 

That was the assignment. Keep Vanya Hargreeves from harm. Vanya was there to end the world, Hazel was there to make sure she didn’t run into any trouble along the way. Ensure the bomb went off as intended, hope he wouldn’t notice he too would be caught in the blast. 

She was where everything had gone wrong. 

This was supposed to happen. 

He’d rejected that answer. Fought it. Ignored it. Worked around it, when the battle proved fruitless. It should have left his head already, but that old excuse still bubbled up. Hazel couldn’t see the logic in it, but then, he’d never tried to see it. He’d simply done as he was told, done it well, and moved on. Onto the next job, the next killing, the next body left in a motel or a bedroom or the middle of the street. 

But he wasn’t with the Commission anymore. He was with Agnes, and Agnes wouldn’t sit by knowing the world would end in twenty-two years. 

“Maybe we could jump back a little more. Little further from the end.” 

“What would that do?” 

There was more than simple curiosity in those words, and Hazel knew before he spoke that he’d chosen the wrong train of thought to follow. “I dunno. Give us more time, I guess.” 

“We’d have more time, but what about everyone else?” 

Definitely the wrong train. 

“They—” She turned more, facing him, but he didn’t move. “Hazel! All of those people are going to die in twenty-two years, and you’re just gonna let them?”

“I just don’t see what we can do, all right?” He looked up, but didn’t quite meet her gaze. “Commission wanted the world to end, and they got their wish. They’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.” 

“But that lady, the one in charge—she’s dead. You killed her.” 

“She’s replaceable.” Those scars crisscrossing her skin made him wonder just how replaceable, but he wasn’t keen to learn for himself. “Now that she’s gone, they’ll just find somebody else to step in and do what she did.” 

Agnes lapsed into silence. A bird chirped from the branches above, but she made no move to look toward it. 

“She said to protect Vanya Hargreeves.” 

“Yep.” 

“Well, if Vanya’s the one who—you know, the one who did it? Maybe we could talk to her. Try and get her to—I don’t know, do something else?” 

“Probably not possible, way she was.” Blank expression. Colorless eyes. Striding through the streets with a violin case in her hand. Hazel had seen worse, caused worse, but he already knew that particular sight would pay frequent visits to his nightmares. 

“So we go back earlier. A couple of days, or a couple of weeks.” 

“Don’t think that’d be enough.” 

“I knew her, Hazel. She and her brothers and her sister—they’d come into my donut shop late at night, buy all the donuts they could. Start wolfing ‘em down before I could even make change. She was quiet. Shy. Come along behind the rest of ‘em like she didn’t know if she was allowed to be there.” Agnes bit her lip. “Whatever she did when the world ended, that wasn’t her.” 

A number of childhood visits to a donut shop didn’t strike him as quite enough to say you’d known a person, but then, Hazel didn’t have thirty years of customer service under his belt. Maybe those years had taught Agnes to see things he couldn’t. “She was a kid then. People grow up, change.” 

“Not like that. Something went wrong. Very wrong.” 

It had never been his job to think too deeply about the whys of things. Worker bees weren’t paid to think, they were paid to follow orders, do what needed done. A part of him, a voice that sounded an awful lot like the Handler, told him it still wasn’t his job. The apocalypse had gone off without a hitch. The world was over. All that was left was to find a peaceful spot somewhere in history and settle down as best they could. 

“What do you think it was?” 

“I think it was their dad.” 

Hazel met her gaze this time. Her answer had come with no hesitation, no forethought, as though she’d landed on it years before. 

“She wrote a book, you know. Vanya did. Everybody read it, everyone. And the things he’d do to them? To those poor kids?” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “God. Breaks my heart just thinking about it.” 

“They’re a real friggin’ mess.” Hazel hadn’t put much thought into those words back when Cha-Cha said them. He’d heard them, of course, added them to his strategy, but he hadn’t paused to think why they were a mess or what that mattered in the grand scheme of things. Hadn’t put them together with Five’s words about his brother or the other emotionally stunted man-children—his words—he’d returned to. 

“You really think that Hargreeves guy screwed ‘em up that badly?” 

“I do.” She sighed again. “I just—I didn’t know back then, but if I did? I’d have taken ‘em right out of that house. Adopted ‘em myself if I had to.” 

Maybe that was a hint, maybe it wasn’t. It seemed a little too heartfelt, a little too sincere to be one, and Hazel hadn’t ever explained the fuzziness of time travel to her in detail anyway. He could very well leave her to think that their childhoods were beyond alterations, let her believe that their timeframe in which to change course was far narrower than it was. Maybe she’d realize the lie one day. She probably would realize it one day. But if ducking the Commission meant denying Agnes her peace of mind, then….

Hazel couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought. 

“You know when they were born?” 

“Yes. October First, 1989. All at the same time—I remember that part. It was all over the news for weeks.” 

“So they’d be—what? Eight now?” 

“I think so.” She paused. “Are you...?” 

He sighed. “Look. I don’t know if getting ‘em away from their dad would change what happens. Maybe they’ll grow up to be just fine and the world’ll get hit by an asteroid or a nuke or something. Lot of shit can happen between now and then.” 

“But?” 

Instinct, honed by years with the Commission and approved by their policies, urged him to drop the subject. Change it, follow it to any conclusion beside the one he’d set a course for. But Agnes was here, and Agnes wouldn’t want him to go that way, so he drew a breath. He had to say it now, before he had time to talk himself out of it. 

“But if you want to give ‘em a chance to grow up normal, this year’s as good as any.” 

*********

Chapter One

[sethrine-writes]

My Heart, It Beats For You

Pairing: Nines/RK900 x Reader

Words:  2485

Warnings:  Super fluffy shmoop

Summary:  Nines didn’t understand the intricacies of affection, not at first. You came into his life, however, and he began to learn. His love for you was intense and overwhelming, and everything he never knew he needed until it happened. He planned a surprise for you, but as he has learned, not all relationships follow a set path. It all works out beautifully, in the end.

A/N:  This is the fic that was voted for on my other blog! You guys wanted some Nines with some fluff and happiness, and I finally get to deliver it to you! Happy Valentine’s Day, my lovelies!

------

At first, Nines didn’t understand the intricacies of small affections and tokens of said affection.

For one, such knowledge hadn’t been wired into his programming, having been created to be less responsive to outer emotional stimuli in order to lower his chances of deviancy. He could mimic emotional reactions, sure, but only by playing off what the individual in front of him was expressing, and only enough to get what he needed out of a suspect. He had a goal, then, and empathy did not play a role in it.

Deviancy was, naturally, absolute hell on his processors.

Where once, there was nothing, he suddenly felt everything, a flood of information washing over him in overwhelming emotional impulses that demanded to be acknowledged. It was a new experience, and life held purpose outside of objectives and getting the job done, by any means necessary. It was frightening, and angering, and too much for Nines to handle so suddenly and without warning.

Because of this, he was quick to learn how to keep everything to himself, remaining cool and collected in the face of his peers. There was too much to learn and experience, having practically been reborn within the deviancy coding, and letting on that he was but an infant in a world that had grown and learned over millennia of human interaction would be more than overwhelmingly embarrassing.

For weeks, months, even, he was fine, or as fine as an emotionally constipated android could be.

You came into his life six short months after he became deviant, however, and life suddenly had a whole new mess of meaning-

Which led into the next reason affectionate intricacies had a habit of eluding him, at least for a while.

He understood rationale and logic better than anything, or anyone, else, and in his first approach into his relationship with you, it was one of the things he continued to count on. Nines came to realize rather quickly that an actual relationship didn’t just merit on simple facts or follow step-by-step algorithms.

If anything, you helped him to see such reasoning with a mix of analogies that stuck with him since there utterance:

“It’s like…like you’re stuck in monochrome, when all around you is a world full of so many colors and facets. You act along flat lines, but everyone else is shaped and continues to branch out. Does that make sense?”

At first, it didn’t, not quite, but over time, Nines began to see what you were trying to tell him.

In many ways, he had not embraced his deviancy and had elected to remain machine-like in his approach to most things. In a relationship, he couldn’t do that, not without seeming far too distant, despite his growing infatuation with you.

He was exactly as you described – monochromatic, walking a drab line back and forth as if it was his sole purpose in life. All he had to do was branch off the path just once, and the colors would come to him.

And with that daring, hesitant step forward, many things he thought trivial and unnecessary began to make sense just as much as they became confusing.

In hindsight, he understood that each individual was different, and that each person, be it human or android, would require different amounts, as well as different levels, of certain wants and needs. He also understood that there was a time and place to enact these specific wants and needs, usually when together with a significant other, and usually when they felt most comfortable.

Nines recalled the first time he kissed you in public. The look of surprise upon your face and the light flush against your cheeks had delighted him in a way he couldn’t explain…until you shied away from him, nervous and embarrassed as others looked your way.

Apparently, sharing a kiss while you were at work was not an ideal move, something he had taken note of before, but Nines had been overcome with the need to show his appreciation for you. It only made sense for him to express such strong emotional attachment in a way you would both find pleasing and tasteful.

It was a mistake he made only once, and one you had tentatively explained reasoning behind why it wasn’t an ideal moment.

From then on, he began to take note.

He was much more versed in the intricacies of relationships than he was at the very beginning, and with each passing day, he continued to learn more to ensure that he could make your relationship last.

Something Nines had learned over the months was that he was happy with you. He felt more alive than he had ever felt when he was with you. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure your happiness, and the thought alone was both grounding and frightening in its intensity. He was completely serious in his understanding that whatever you wished of him, he would accomplish without any hesitation.

How lucky he was to have your gentle heart, then, because all you ever truly wanted out of him was his own happiness.

His thought process was halted momentarily at the sound of the front door being unlocked. He listened to the movements as the door swung open, identifying your light footfall and the relieved sigh you exuded at finally being home from a long day at work. So focused on your task of winding down, you didn’t even realize he was there until you had already shucked your shoes and placed your coat on one of the hooks by the door.

“Oh! Nines! I didn’t expect you home, already.”

“I had a shorter day then expected,” he answered as you made your way to the couch, where he currently resided.

You were smiling lightly as you leaned toward him, his preconstruction software having already anticipated the move. The touch of your lips followed an instant later, your kiss sweet and chaste – or it would have been, had Nines not followed your departure to make the kiss linger a bit longer. When you finally pulled away, it was with an amused chuckle and an even bigger smile.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you greeted with a bit of sass, of which Nines hummed at in his own amusement.

“How was your day?”

“Well, same ol’, same ol’, nothing really new. Busier, this time of year, but I’ve gotten pretty used to it. You?”

“Nothing new,” he repeated. “Connor would like us to come over next weekend for a movie night, should you find the day apt.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you answered, moving toward the kitchen. “I’ll put it on the calendar, so I don’t forget.”

Nines was quick to stand and follow you from an appropriate distance, knowing you were looking for something to drink. When you opened the fridge, you gave a light gasp, looking to Nines with surprised eyes.

“You’ve been to the store, I see,” you mused, surprised to find everything restocked, as well as a bottle of your favorite wine chilling at the bottom. “Mm, and you plan on getting me wine-drunk? To what do I owe the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Nines answered. “I recalled it was your favorite, and the selection had just been restocked. It will pair nicely with dinner, tonight.”

“Oh?” you queried, of which Nines only answered with a knowing smile. You huffed out a chuckle, shaking your head lightly as you reached for a bottle of water.

“Go ahead and keep your secrets, then,” you playfully quipped, moving toward the dining room.

You paused just short of leaving the kitchen, eyes glued to the display ahead for a long moment. With a furrowed brow, you turned back to look at him, clearly confused just as much as you were surprised.

“Are you sure I’m not missing something, I don’t know…important?”

You turned back to glance at the dining room table, moving forward to inspect the bouquet of calla lilies sitting in a beautiful glass vase right in the center. The lilies were colored with pinks and purples, a gorgeous array that you definitely hadn’t been expecting. If anything, you seemed more nervous at finding them there, though it was because you believed you had missed an important date.

“I don’t require a reason to surprise you, do I?” Nines questioned lightly, amused just as he was a tad confused, himself. He was almost sure he’d done things right for what he had planned, yet your own perplexed expression had him worried he had overstepped some sort of unknown boundary.

“Of course not,” you answered him, moving closer to ease him with the gentle stroke of a hand against his cheek. “It’s just…well, the wine, the secret dinner plan, and then the flowers? It’s all wonderful, but it also makes me think there’s something I might have missed. Our one-year anniversary is still a couple of months away, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he said, “but this isn’t a missed occasion, my heart. Rather, perhaps, this is a new one in the making.”

Your brows furrowed a bit more, head tilting just slightly to the side.

He was going to wait until after dinner, as seemed to be customary, but he had learned many months ago that not all relationships relied on custom.

With a gentle smile in place, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. You eyed it quizzically, though he could make out the dilation of your eyes and noted the increased beat of your heart.

“It’s not quite what you may think it is,” he began as he handed the box to you, ensuring your shaking fingers had a good hold of the item before he pulled back. “I wanted this evening to be a surprise that led to a special gift, though I hadn’t anticipated your panic. I feel as if I may have done something wrong.”

“No, no,” you assured, “it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I was worried I had missed something important and hadn’t gotten you a gift. I would have felt horrible for forgetting!”

Your panic began to make sense, then. It was something he would have to plan accordingly, next time. For that moment, he awaited your reaction to the gift he had worked hard on obtaining; it was a piece he had worked closely with the creator of to ensure his exact specifications.

Sensing the shift, your eyes darted down to the gift, fingers moving to open the top of the hinged box. Upon inspecting the jewelry within, your eyes widened considerably, lips falling open in absolute shock. You looked up at him, then back at the gift, and then once more at him before your gaze darted to his temple, where his L.E.D. indicator resided.

You recognized what it was, then.

“I know it’s a bit early for you to fully commit to anything,” Nines began as he reached for the box, gently prying it from your fingers, “but I did some research into other customs and traditions. I found that significant others will, oftentimes, give their partner a promise ring, of which can mean any number of things, depending on the person and the length of the relationship.”

As he spoke, Nines carefully removed the piece of jewelry from the box, revealing the full length of the twinkling chain that held in place a circular pendant. The whole time, your eyes darted between his tender gaze and the beautiful necklace he held, fingers suspending it between the both of you.

“In that regard, perhaps I was a bit literal,” he quipped, “though you have an affinity for necklaces, and I concluded you would be more susceptible to wearing one.”

He reached with his free hand and took hold of one of yours, pulling it between you and maneuvering the circular ring to lay flat against your skin. Within moments, the ring lit up, much to your surprise, circling a vibrant yellow color that was all too familiar to your eyes. Startled, you looked again at Nines, only to notice that his L.E.D. was circling a cool, gentle blue.

“It reacts to you, what you think and feel,” Nines explained. “Quite similar to how my indicator can announce my processing as well as my distress. I am also connected to the pendant, and when you wear it…”

Nines hesitated a moment, unsure if his next words would come across the way he wanted them to. Your gaze was expectant, however, as if you wanted to know exactly what he meant to say.

“When I wear it-?”

“I can feel your heartbeat.”

The room grew quiet, the air vibrating with energy Nines couldn’t quite explain. Your eyes remained glued to his for so long, he worried he had upset you. You blinked after another long moment, however, lashes fluttering as a disbelieving smile lit your face.

“You are such a sap.”

You turned your back to him, a move that was almost alarming until you looked over your shoulder at him in anticipation. He understood and quickly moved into action, maneuvering the necklace over your head and between his fingers until he was able to clasp it around your neck. When it was in place, you turned back to him, straightening the pendant until it was flat against your skin and centered on your chest.

The indicator was a cool, gentle blue.

“Oh,” Nines said, the simple exclamation nearly breathy and just as gentle. His eyes slipped closed for just a brief moment, his system being overtaken by the steady drum of your heart. When he opened his eyes again, it was to the look of pure adoration.

“Oh,” you repeated, eyes glossy and almost teary as a smile lit your face unlike any other. You touched the pendant against your skin almost reverently, pulling it up momentarily, only to find that the color had changed.

“It’s…it’s pink,” you startled, surprised by a color you had never seen before on any other android’s indicator. “What does that mean?”

Nines couldn’t help but stare in awe, knowing full well what the color symbolized, though he hadn’t expected to see it so soon.

“I love you,” he said, though whether that was the answer to your question or just his proclamation of love for you, it was hard to tell.

As soon as the words left him, you were in his arms, his lips lovingly pressing against yours in a kiss that expressed the absolute adoration and devotion he held for you. You returned the intimate embrace with utmost ease, your heart stuttering away in your chest and within his head.

Nines may not have known the intricacies of affection, at least, not at first, but he was getting the hang of it. He had you, all of you, for as long as you wanted him. There wasn’t much more he could ever want from the world.