#wouldn't that be a cool superpower?

[theriu]

You ever buy a thing and it’s just a LITTLE too big, like it WORKS but you wish it you could just manifest your paint program’s Lasso Tool and resize that thing a few percentage points?

[evilminji]

Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

[sobfultoast]

•~°◇ Just the Little Human Things ◇°~•

Prompt: Humans and demons are different, no duh. There are some things that we do naturally that shocked and freak out the brothers. Here are some random few (each linked to a specific brother, like 1 means Lucifer, etc).

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.

• ~ ° ◇ ° ~ •

1. Cracking bones.

You spent a long day dealing with your studies. Your fingers cramped. So you cracked them. Lucifer was appalled. He thought you just broke yourself. Lucifer goes straight to you and asks if you just broke your finger or something along those lines. After calming him down and just explaining that you were popping the air bubbles in your joints because they ached, he was more appalled.

Humans can get air bubbles in between their bones?! That's so weird. Demons can't crack their joints. If they make any cracking noise, they probably cracked their bones.

At least you're not hurt. That is all that matters to him.

2. Adrenaline.

Demons have instincts like humans, but they don't have adrenaline. They have the same amount of strength and power, no matter the situation. No amount of tension will give them a random boost in a fight. Humans do. It's called adrenaline (SHOCKING). Boosting our stamina, pain tolerance, reaction time, and strength. It's like a superpower! A superpower that Mamon was unaware of at the time.

You both were running from trouble, as normal. Even though your body was in its flight or fight, no amount of adrenaline will make you run as fast as the fastest demon in hell! So how was he supposed to know! It was until there was a dead end. The door was locked. Mammon was about to use some magic to open it because the angry demons were very close behind you guys. before he could, BAM! You ram right into it and smash it open

What. The. Hell??? Are you on steroids or something?!

Once you escape, Mammon has so many questions. He now thinks adrenaline is so cool.

3. Being social animals.

Demons aren't necessarily social creatures. Some will go millennias without talking to anything, and they don't go insane. It's just a lot of demons like socialising. Levi is not one of those demons, though. Levi will go some months without speaking to anyone, even some days without speaking to his brothers. He thought humans were the same. He didn't know that it could cause mental issues like insanity or depression.

Levi only found out because he was watching a horror anime, where a human character was isolated for months and went insane. He thought it was fiction, but then he asked you. As soon as yes leaves your mouth, he is in utter disbelief.

Now he feels bad whenever he has you holed up in his room. Don't you want to socialise? He wouldn't mind if you went to party with Asmo and Mammon... At least he'd try not to mind. Are you sure you're okay with just him? Yeah? ... He thinks he is okay with just you, too.

4. Humans on the moon?

When you came to devildom, even though Satan wasn't that close to you, he did research about humans out of curiosity. Satan learnt about human history, myths & legends, science (a.k.a human magic), medicine, and even decided to research human technology.

The only thing he didn't know was that humans went to the moon. When he was doing human history, he was doing ancient human history. Being a demon who was immortal, Satan classed anything from the last 100 years as morden to him. He was alive during it. He should know when it happens. But somehow, no one talked about the humans landing on the moon.

You wanted to know if demons had also gone to space, and he answered with, "No. Some of angels have... What do you mean also?" Humans, flightless and magicless fleshbags, have gone to the stars?!

5. Baby teeth falling out.

Asmodeus wanted to see childhood pictures of you! He was going on about how cute you were until he saw that in one of your photos that you were missing a tooth?! Asmo didn't know you were missing a tooth! He immediately tried to look in your mouth for that missing tooth, but there was a tooth there?! What?! Did you get some sort of tooth surgery?

Demons and angels don't have baby teeth. They are made not to naturally lose any of their teeth, and if they lose a tooth, they have to get a surjery to get it back. So, this concept is crazy to them.

Asmo was thankful it was natural. You made him panic!

6. Stretch marks.

Demons have rapid regeneration, so they don't get stretch marks. The scars just heal immediately as it isn't a deep wound to them.

Beelzebub had no idea humans could get them. He thought some demon attacked or tried to put a hex on you, but once you explained it to him, it blew his mind. Losing or gaining weight causes these marks? Humans are stretchy??? That's cute.

Beelzebub likes running his hand over the marks. It's fascinating to him.

7. Modern medicine.

Belphegor knew a lot about humans due to his human phase when he was an angel. There isn't anything that you do that surprises him. Belphie even knows humans went to the moon because he is an astrology girlie. But he is clueless about morden medicine.

Belphie lost interest in humans when he fell, obviously. He didn't want to interact with humans after his hatred for them developed. So he has no idea about morden human medicine.

Humans don't use frog eggs anymore? They were unsafe? Really? Belphie thought they worked. He did not know humans were just as unknowledgable as he was back then. Belphie learnt after you accidentally got a paper cut, and Belphie said he'd go get the plasters and leeches.

You had to tell him that the leaches were outdated by a few decades.

•~°◇ Have a kind day! ◇°~•

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Batman had Danny by his leg. More specifically he was hanging Danny upside-down 40 stories in the air via said leg.

Okay. So Danny maaay have stolen some tech from a lab. Okay, a lot of tech. But Batman thought he was a witness or an accomplice! Not the perpetrator themselves! Does he do this to all his witnesses?

Appearently Danny said that last part out loud and his sass was unappreciated, hence Batman letting go. Unfortunately for both of them Danny didn't want to fall and he instinctually stayed there floating perfectly still in mid air.

Danny may be a terrible liar, but he was a phenomenal actor, especially when he's feeling spiteful. Alright, he thought random bullshit GO! Before Batman could comment, our little menace gave Batman a scandalized look, "You're a meta?!"

"No." The bats scowled even harder than before "Your abilities may have manifested just now."

Oh ho ho, Danny wasn't going to let him get away that easy. "My parents would have killed me if I had the meta gene. I know. They checked." That one wasn't exactly a lie. His parents would have seen any superpowers as confirmation that he or Jazz were ghosts and then it was game over and they did check thier DNA for something a lot when they were younger...huh. Thoughts for later than.

"How do you know you haven't gotten mutated by any of the stuff you deal with? Besides if they were my powers then I wouldn't still be hanging upside down."

Bats grunted in acknowledgment and just stared at him for a few seconds, which was uncomfortable. Lucky for him one of the other bats landed near Batman on the rooftop and asked about the situation. Danny didn't hesitate, "Batmans a meta! I'm stuck!"

"I am not"

"Are too!" Danny quipped back. He sounded kinda childish but he didn't particularly care at the moment. More bats came after the second one spilled the beans on some 'com' thing. They mostly mocked Batman and asked if he was okay, which he was but he would like to be let down please.

Eventually someone called 'Red Hood' showed up and was really really mad that Batman had threatened a kid.

There were fireworks after that. The kind that belonged on a soap opera and Danny wished he had popcorn for it. Unfortunately he was stuck disrespecting physics for the time being.

Or was he? The big bad bats attention wasn't on him at the moment now would be a good time to ru-

Danny screamed, genuinely startled at the sudden free fall. He heard multiple people swear and grappling hooks fire. The next thing he knew he was shaking while holding onto someone for dear life. It had been almost a full year since the accident and yet he still lost control of his powers sometimes when distracted.

Luckily Red Hood is super cool.

----

Aka Danny gaslight Batman into thinking he has superpowers he can't control.

Red Hood is mad Bruce threatened a child.

[cripplecharacters]

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Complication of posts from CrippleCharacters, as well as other blogs providing advice on writing disabled characters!

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Last update: 15/06/2024

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[justficsiguess]

thinking about... yandere!batfam...

Imagine you're living your normal life and *boom*, one day suddenly a portal opens right in front of you, you fall through it, it closes right behind you. You can only make out a few vague shapes making their way towards you before you pass out.

When you wake up you're... in a bed. Surrounded by a bunch of people who introduce themselves as the Wayne family. You're in Gotham. There was some kind of portal accident with a villain and you fell here from a different dimension and you're stuck until they can figure out how to fix the portal machine, because it was broken during the fight.

Villain? Portals? Gotham? And what was this family doing there during a fight?? They explain that they're vigilantes, Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, etc etc. They decided to tell you this because you'll have to work with them to figure out your home dimension and they didn't trust anyone else to take you in, plus this is just more efficient [and more comfortable than living in the batcave]. I haven't decided yet if you're from a dimension where they exist in comics or don't exist at all, but either way, you're really confused bc this is just not something that happens in your universe.

Anyways. You live with them now, get closer to all of them, work with them sometimes (even though you can't do much, mostly you just watch them work but they insist it's important you're there), decorate your temporary room in the manor a bit, learn some stuff about this dimension (some people have superpowers?? cool!!). You can't go outside though, they say that would be dangerous, as you're not from this dimension and not supposed to be here at all. You want to go back home, but the repairing of the portal machine seems to be very complicated, everyone keeps telling you they just can't figure it out...

One day, during a rare (very rare) moment alone, you decide to look around the manor. You still haven't seen everything in here, it's so big! After some exploration, you stumble across an interesting room that's kind of hidden away. It looks almost exactly like your new room in the manor, but dusty, with some items you remember the Batfamily proudly showing you as you were decorating your room, and becoming unreasonably disappointed when you didn't like them. But the most concerning thing is that there are pictures of you. Not new ones they took since you've been here, but older ones, where you're younger. But, no, it doesn't seem like they're pictures of you exactly, there are photos of a pre-teen you on Bruce's shoulders, that can't be you, you just met them! There are also pictures of a vigilante you've never seen before, which you figure must be this other-you as well. What happened to them? And why would everyone hide this from you?

Turns out you didn't come here from an accident with a villain at all. The Batfamily lost the other version of you somehow and decided they wanted you back. But not a strong, smart vigilante like the version of you from this universe. No, they could get hurt again, or figure out what's going on sooner and escape. They chose you, hoping they could slowly get you accustomed to the idea of staying and then one day lie to you and say they can't fix the portal machine, they can't send you back. It still hurts them to know you're not exactly like the you they lost, you were raised in a completely different way, of course you're not the same, but they'd never let you go, either. They love you.

They were hoping you wouldn't find everything out so soon... but, well, they can fight over whose fault it is that you were able to find this room later, first they need to find a way to calm you down and stop you from leaving them.

If you find yourself drugged and/or tied to your bed, don't be mad at them! You gave them no time to explain before you started panicking and trying to get away, they couldn't just let that happen!

[byooregard]

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bluebabadee

THIS BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR NON-HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS. HUMAN PASSING MUTANTS DNI

10 notes 📌Pinned Post

sparklejays Follow

based on your likes!

every time I see a human talking about "how cool it would be to have superpowers" or some shit like that I loose it a little bit more. do these people realize that being a mutant isn't just fun powers. like even beyond the shit I deal with trying to get jobs or all the relationships that have been ruined once people realized I'm a mutant. abilities aren't just fun and games, I have a friend who can't touch people without nearly killing them, I burned down three buildings before someone finally taught me to control my abilities, and these people are all like "wouldn't it be great to fly to work every day??" just admit that you see us as comic book characters and not real people with real struggles

#actually mutant #jay .txt

276 notes

scamperpamperblog reblogged spocktism

🏙️tilleys-brain Follow

self diagnosing is great and all but most of you people aren't telepaths, you're just hyperempathic

#actually mutant #actually telepathic #hyperempathy #crosstagging i know but some of yall need to see this #tilley speaks #it can be dangerous to go around acting like you know peopels actual thoughts when its just your brain

1,657 notes

oh-you-pretty-things

.

#vent post #sometimes I get really mad at magneto #like I think he's done a lot for mutant rights and stuff #but I'm so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm evil just because of my powers #like jesus not all of us are trying to start atomic wars #some metallokinetics just use their abilities to make cool sculptures #but I can't get a spoon from across the room in front of strangers without someone mentioning jfk

3 notes

mutantbuffy reblogged muntantpollscentral

🩻mutantpollscentral

*physical mutation meaning something that is ALWAYS physical, not just something you can turn off and on whenever

#ig my mutation IS technically physical its just not visible to people most of the time so i feel weird claiming that #but like i was born with the tattoo marks #the powers didnt come till later tho #so idk which to pick

668 notes

sploimsh reblogged jesterjuleses

🎹pussy-truck-faggot

HEY! shout-out to people with *weird* mutations. Mutations that don't look cool, mutations that are gross, mutations that are dirty, mutations that you can't tell people about because they always cringe. You're just as valid as every other mutant out there. Your powers don't need to be palettable to humans for you to be treated with respect.

#THIS!!! #rb

5,678 notes

rosetvler

god i am so tired of the hypocrisy in this community. the double standards are insane. its okay to have 'scary' powers but the moment someone's abilities are scarier than like, pyrokinesis you're evil and dangerous to be around. 'acceptance' for you people only means nice mutants who've never hurt or scared anyone ever.

rosetvler reblogged rosetvler

non-mutants can reblog this btw

#srb #actually mutant #getting real tired of this

18 notes

katiedidnt reblogged morelikesexmen

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

okay like. i get that were all about acceptance and pride or w/e but no one in this tag has ever had friends irl i swear. if someone asks you not to read their mind you shouldnt. honestly you shouldnt be using telepathy on people at all without their permission. mutant abilities dont disclude you from respecting peoples boundaries

🌌rosetvler Mutuals

i swear to god you people are such hypocrites. its all 'mutant and proud' until someone has a power you dont like. its always about keeping the humans feeling comfortable instead of thinking about how it feels to never use your powers because theyre breaking 'boundaries' that were made up by humans in the first place

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

dude do you hear yourself right now

🎆jade-the-pyromancer Follow

Hey, I like your point op, but maybe you should stop trying to speak over actual telepaths and let them decide how to use their powers themselves???

🩻magicsteele27 Follow

i. i am a telepath.

#duddeeee telepaths are insane #used to be friends with one SO glad i broke that off before it went too bad

15,678 notes

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

imagine being any high-ranking person who's NOT Alethi and hearing Navani is a Bondsmith too AND had like literally a dozen different breakthroughs while imprisoned for Just A Few Weeks AND one of them would essentially let you build a magical antimatter bomb if you wanted to

like. go off, it was Cool As Hell, but Man.

MAN.

If I were in this situation that would be terrifying in its own right

like haha Navani you're sooo cool... haha... y-you promise that once the war ends you're not gonna use your conjunction of genius and the ability to shit ungodly amounts of Light on command to make Alethkar, known bloodthirsty empire, like 300 years more advanced than everyone else and the main distributor of Towerlight, an invaluable new resource which if it wanted it could seize supply of in an inescapable steel grasp, riiiight?

Haha.

Riiiiight?

Navani?

You wouldn't do that. :)))))). C'maaahn. It's our birthday. We're your little birthday allies :))).

Haha you wouldn't use us to save Alethkar and then turn around and make your country an uncontested terrifying superpower that's even more terrifying than before because now it also has gained the experience needed to be able to not only act like, but likely often *truly believe* it's the good guy and that "everything's different now" and guilt/sweet talk everyone into compliance with new trade deals and stories of how cool and awesome and helpful the Alethi were when everyone almost died.... :))))

Riiiight?????

[emdeerm]

Idea!

Whomst???

So, let's take canon Danny Phantom. We can even take the AGIT, that would only make him canonically 16-17is for this scenario. (Btw, poor Val. I'm seriously so sorry for her)

Danny is flying around the Infinite Realms to familiarise himself with it better. Look, if he decided to be the Bridge, he has to learn more about the Ghost side of his life. Their customs, quirks, limits, world... from someone who isn't a Fruitloop or his parents. He is still ashamed that it took meeting Dairy King to finally realise that not all Ghosts are evil.

He got to a section of many, many, MANY, natural portals that led into completely different universes. Most of them even had Heroes!!!! He was so exited!

He visited many in the next few months. Made friends, confused the heck out of locals. Made some enemies, cause that's just his life.

Spiderman was cool! Iron Man was so fun to prank, the guy was a billionaire and hilarious.

Even if he never was able to speak with the vast majority, those Japanese Heroes with cool superpowers were awesome. He was kinda glad his world was normal-is tho. Call him judgmental, but come on, look him in the eyes and tell him that you wouldn't be weirded out by some of the mutations.

And now, he spotted his new target. From what he gathered, they were an urban legend of the gloomy as heck city. Robins,... bats? or something. Time to make friends!

And close the leakage of the Raw, unfiltered ectoplasm into here. He had only been around one for an hour and he saw how problematic it was.

Aka

Danny is a gremlin in canon. He found cool portals. He will make it other's problem.

Yes, he keeps his identity hidden. No, he doesn't stay invisible all the time. Only initially to get some info. After that? You'd spot him openly bothering the superheroes. And rogues. Can't let them be left out.

What are they gonna do? Kill him? They can't even touch him most of the time.

[tizeline]

Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?

Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾

Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!

Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh

The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.

Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.

Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"

And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A night out with friends turns into a surprise welcome home party for the man who broke your heart, Eddie Munson.

Masterlist Listen to Scar Tissue Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter.  Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC:5162. Beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Have a good day,” your mother calls out as you shut the front door to the gray clapboard-sided home that your parents had fallen in love with the moment they laid eyes on it. You hadn’t even gotten past the front steps before she appears in the doorway, pulling her purple terry-cloth robe tighter around her shoulders as she calls you back. “You don’t have to come right home after school,” she tells you, pressing a few folded bills into your hand, “Go out with your friends. Have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You muster up a smile, shoving the bills into the front pocket of your Levi's, certain they will end up in the ceramic pink elephant bank that sits atop your dresser, just like the money she gave you last week. She watches you walk down the steps, giving you a wave before she turns away, shutting the door behind her. 

She tries her best, but she doesn't understand that friendships in the seventh grade aren't made as easily as they were in kindergarten, and you can't tell her that in the six weeks you've been enrolled at Hawkins Middle School, not a soul has spoken to you unless asked to by a teacher. 

This was the life that your parents had chosen, a career that demanded constant relocation and upheaval. "It's an adventure," they'd tell you as your things were being packed into boxes. But the older you got, it felt less like an adventure and more like a test. A test to prove yourself over and over. There’s a phrase your mom has uttered so often over the years, that it's surprising it's not embroidered on the throw pillows. Bloom where you're planted. But here, in this town, you're only a weed in the garden.

Hawkins isn't any worse or better than any of the other ten places you've lived in the last seven years, but these kids have been together since birth and aren't eager to welcome newcomers into the flock. Pouring your efforts into being confident and friendly, projecting a cool and unbothered facade, the constant exposure has left you empty. The mask is too heavy, and you’ve been wearing it far too long. If this were one of the comics you kept in the box under your bed, you'd be discovering your superpower–Invisibility. They don't see you here, and maybe they never would. 

The edges of folded bills in your pocket press into the meat of your thigh. Adding them to your total should give you enough for the new Elastica CD.  With a bit of luck, you might be able to talk your dad into driving you to Tower Records in Indianapolis this weekend. A few houses away, the battered front door of a small yellow cape opens with a click and thud, drawing your attention. The house was more run-down than the others on this street. The grass was left to grow a little longer before being mowed, and a few nights a week, you could hear the yelling coming from inside before seeing the slow flash of lights of a cruiser parked in front. 

A boy with curly shoulder-length hair bounds out from inside the house, slinging on his worn backpack as he hits the sidewalk.

Right on time this morning. 

The scuff of your white Doc Martens falls in step with the crunch of his black Converse hitting the pavement. The chain running from his back pocket to his hip sways with his movements. It’s more of a determined bounce than a walk. Your eyes stay trained on the frayed holes of his Jansport, corners of textbooks and papers pushing through. You keep waiting for physics to kick in and the thing to give way entirely.

“Quit following me.” 

His voice floats over his shoulder, shattering the quiet of the morning. Your head swivels from side to side, looking for whoever he is speaking to. His body turns until he’s walking backward, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack, casting his expectant brown eyes on you. 

“Me?” You ask, touching your chipped painted fingernails to your chest.

“You’ve been following me for weeks, and it’s creepy.”

“I’m not following you,” you say incredulously, “We’re just going to the same place.”

“Well, walk on the other side of the street or something,” he says, turning back around, continuing on his way like he assumes you’ll comply.

“No.” 

Your defiance comes out flat and solid, drawing a line, sick of him and this whole town.

“Yes,” the word comes back without a glance, utterly unbothered by your show of determination.

“No,” you repeat louder, your eyebrows pulling together in a scowl, “If you don’t like it, you walk over there.”

“I was here first.”

“Seriously?” The anger in your chest turns to heat, rising up your neck and settling in your face. Your mouth opens, ready to unleash the venom sitting on the tip of your tongue when he stops walking.

“Might as well walk beside me then.”

Surprise melts the words in your mouth as your feet carry you forward until you’re close enough to see the freckles covering his nose. His eyes stay forward as his stride lines up with yours, moving forward at a more relaxed pace. A light breeze rustles the leaves of the Maples lining the street. The sound of your footsteps is interrupted by the occasional passing car. 

“You’re in seventh, right? You got Schnider?” He asks, his eyes darting to your face.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking down at your boots.

"Bad luck. She's a real bitch. I had her last year."

Answering with a shrug, you risk a look back at him. Long eyelashes framing big doe eyes, a sweet face he tries to hide with a hard shell. He wears a mask, too. 

Your brain’s on overload for the rest of the day—thoughts of the boy coloring away the hours like a secret, overanalyzing every bit of your interaction. When the shrill sound of the final bell rings, you join the current of students, gathering your belongings and exiting the building in a wave.

The fresh air is a welcome escape from the stuffy classroom as you cross behind the school past the football field, heading toward the path through the woods where the boy is lingering just beyond the gate, digging through his pack but coming up with nothing like maybe he had been waiting. Without a word, he falls into step beside you. When you look at him, this time, he meets your eyes. The sunlight flickers through the swaying leaves as your footsteps resonate through the trees as you continue together.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cuts the quiet air when you reach the front steps of his house, his tone revealing a hint of uncertainty. 

"I'll be headed the same way," you answer.

He turns away from you, pausing with his foot on the top step, looking up at his house before looking back at you. 

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he offers, his cheeks pinking at the vulnerability his words carry.

"I know," you respond, a small smile gracing your lips as you continue home.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter, tucking your phone into your clutch and bolting up the marble steps to the second floor of the Kimpton Grey Hotel. Composing yourself as you pass through the lobby and open the double doors into Vol.39. The bar exudes timeless elegance with its dim, warm light shining on the dark-wood accents. Vintage jazz playing through hidden speakers, sounding like smoke and liquor. Everything here is steeped in leather, old money, and sophistication. It's no surprise that Nancy chose it. 

"You're late," Nancy says flatly, no amusement in the blue eyes framed by the blunt cut of her black, sleek hair as she glances at her watch with disapproval.

"Sorry." You slide into the open seat on the tufted couch across from her, adjusting the material of your dark emerald midi skirt so the slit wouldn't be showing off too much thigh, "There was traffic." It definitely wasn’t the extra half hour you spent with your feet up on your desk at Stax listening to the new release from Band of Horses.

"This is Chicago. There's always traffic," she counters, keeping her voice low enough that it doesn't travel past the lit bookshelves lined with leather-bound encyclopedias framing the seating area that your friends are currently occupying. "That's why I gave you a time a week ago. So you could plan ahead."

"She’s in a mood," Argyle says from the corner of his mouth, his hair falling around him like a curtain as he leans closer from the velvet upholstered club chair beside you. 

"Where's Steve?" Nancy demands, setting down her crystal tumbler on the gray marble table in the center of the space.

"He's not here?" you ask, scanning the bar. "It was Robin’s turn to watch him."

"Me?" Robin exhales from the other end of the couch she shares with Nancy.

"You're his best friend," you point out with a quirk of your brow.

"Yeah, but you're his–"

"I don't know why I bother to organize nights out for all of us if no one is going to be on time," Nancy cuts off Robin, huffing as she crosses her slender arms over her chest.

"It will be fine, Nance," Johnathan reassures, coming back from the bar carrying a flight of martinis he sets down in the center of the table. "Just relax. Everyone's going to be here in plenty of time." He takes the seat beside her, comforting her with his arm around her shoulder. 

Nancy and Johnathan have been on again-off again since she left Hawkins for school in Boston. Rekindling their relationship when she moved to Chicago and accepted a position at Spectrum Media, where she still works as their vice-president of content strategy. 

"Plenty of time for what?" You ask, leaning forward to choose a martini, picking the Astoria with a knot of lemon. 

"There's a mystery guest," Robin says, wriggling her brows and hooking her thumb towards Nancy. “Full of surprises, isn't she?”

"Where's Flora tonight?" You ask Robin, noticing she is without an escort. 

"Flora?" She asks, picking up a drink for herself, "That was over a week ago." She dismisses her with a wave of the hand before running it through her wavy blonde streaked locks, "Sadly, she left for a goat herding commune in Sacramento. I've been seeing someone new, a painter named Taylor. She's on exhibit at Magnolia. Her florals are really dreamy." She bites an olive off the end of her toothpick, sighing. 

Smiling around the lip of your glass, you shake your head. Robin works as an exhibit coordinator for Magnolia Gallery in Wicker Park, falling in and out of love with artists as quickly as she sells their pieces. You give her credit, she's having fun. 

"Did you text him?" Nancy asks, her lips twisting with impatience. The tense clench of her jaw has you setting down your drink and reaching for your clutch with no arguments. "Do you know how hard it was to get this reservation?"

"Then why are we here?" Argyle complains, gesturing around the room while he slumps back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with the other. "You know I own like six bars, right? No reservations required."

"But then you'd be working," Nancy explains, as Argyle smoothes out his handlebar mustache.

"I'm always working, babe," Argyle says with a smirk, looking the part of a restaurateur and music promoter in his shiny flat-front trousers and short-sleeved silk shirt. 

Argyle is a new friend - meaning not from Hawkins. The California transplant, whose family owns a chain of successful pizza restaurants, has breathed new life into the Chicago music scene. Booking up-and-coming acts as well as big names into his bars and venues all across the city. He's a good friend to have, especially in your line of work–a music journalist for Stax the city's premiere music, arts, and culture magazine.

“He’s on his way,” you inform them, setting your phone face down on the table before settling back on the couch.

“On his way or leaving now?” Nancy shakes her head, knowing with Steve it’s probably the latter. “Why didn’t you ride with him?” She asks, turning toward Jonathan.

“I wasn’t in the office today. I was on a shoot,” he says, pulling his arm away from her and setting his drink down harder than necessary, his patience with her at an end. 

Jonathan, like you and Steve, works for the conglomerate Second City Media. Nancy likes to think that she permits the three of you to work for her competitor, but Steve had already gotten his foot in the door, securing himself an entry-level position at Metro Sports division before she was even out of grad school. Jonathan had been doing alright freelancing as a photographer, but when Nancy started at Spectrum, Second City recognized their competitor would wind up with an edge and hired him on as full-time staff. Everyone knows it's better for their relationship not to be working in the same place, especially with Nancy as his boss.

“Give us some clues about this mystery guest,” Robin interjects to lower the temperature between the couple, which is ready to boil over.

"Okay, I'm here." Steve comes from behind you, his voice alerting you to his arrival before you see him. His tie is already missing, the first three buttons of his starched shirt undone beneath his midnight blue suit, and his hair tousled from a day of running his hands through.

"Really, Steve? You couldn't be on time just this once?" Nancy scolds him, rolling her eyes.

"Meeting ran late. You know how it is," he leans down to kiss her cheek,"Or maybe you don't. I heard things are a bit slow over there at Spectrum," he teases, earning a smirk from Johnathan. 

Steve worked his way up from the sports division to chief content officer for Second City Media. The position puts him just shy of the power Nancy holds at Spectrum, fueling the pair's competitive and ambitious nature until their bickering often drives everyone else crazy.

"Steve," Robin draws his attention before Nancy gets the chance to respond, "About tomorrow–"

"Just a minute, Robin. I haven't gotten to kiss my beautiful wife hello." He steps over Argyle's legs and gives the man a quick handshake in greeting before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"I'm not your wife yet, handsome," you tell him as his strong hands cup your cheeks, tipping your head up toward him. 

"But it sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks before soft lips close over yours, his thumb pressing on your chin, asking for access to deepen the kiss beyond the line that's appropriate in front of company. 

"Niiiice," Argyle hums as the others snicker. Steve takes a hand off your cheek, holding it in front of you to block some of their views as his mouth moves hotly over yours. 

"God, you two are sickening," Nancy's remark is probably accompanied by an eye roll, but you're too occupied to notice as you tighten your grip on the front of Steve's shirt, drawing him nearer.

Four of his fingers curl down, giving Nance a one-fingered message as he continues to kiss you until he's had his fill. Breaking away with a gentle peck. "How was your day today, Ace? Did you write me a Pulitzer?" 

"You ask me that every day."

Despite teasing you, he wouldn't be surprised if you had what it takes. That's how much he believes in you. He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a kiss next to the glittering diamond he put on your hand a little over two years ago. 

"Excuse you." Robin climbs over Argyle's legs that are still stretched out in front of him, taking up all the space between the chairs and the table, and walks over to the couch, squeezing her way onto the sofa between you and Steve, "Best friend privileges." She winks before launching into a conversation about the next exhibit she's putting together.

"You two crazy kids set a date yet?" Argyle asks at a volume higher than you'd prefer. Raising your index finger to your lips, eyebrows drawing together as your eyes flick over to Steve.

"I'm just making sure my invite didn't get lost in the mail," he says, sipping his drink. "I love weddings, man—all those tiny little versions of regular-sized food. Maybe I should open a restaurant like that, where everything is tiny. Tiny little kebabs and tiki drinks with tiny little umbrellas. I don't know what's taking you so long. You need to make an honest man out of him." His voice grows louder at the end of his sentence, earning him another look from you, a distraction that diverts Steve's attention from his conversation.

The waitress chooses that moment to appear, saving you from another conversation about setting a wedding date. It's not that you don't want to marry him–you do. Someday. Decisiveness has never been your strong suit, along with dressing up in big puffy dresses that look like frosting and being on display for everyone you have ever known and their plus ones. 

While Steve squints down at the drink menu, fondness warms you like the opening notes of your favorite song. Reaching across Robin, you tap his chest. He looks over at you as he pulls a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slides them on his nose.

Your lips move without sound–I love you.

You too, he mouths back. His mossy eyes softening as he smiles just for you. 

You're happy. Why change a thing?

“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Top shelf. Please,” Steve tells the waitress after she had gone around taking orders for small plates to share and more cocktails from the others. “Another Martini?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, please. An Astoria,” you tell her as she finishes scribbling everything down on her pad and heads off toward the bar to put in your orders. 

“The ladies?” You tip your head at Robin, who nods, getting up to follow you. Steve squeezes your hand as you walk by as he continues his conversation with Nancy about the effectiveness of paywalls on digital content.

“God, she’s in rare form,” Robin comments as you enter the empty ladies' room, each of you closing yourself into a stall.

“Are she and Jonathan fighting again?” You ask once you’ve finished up and moved to the sink to wash your hands. The echo of your voices bouncing off the black and white hexagon tiles.

“When aren’t they fighting?” She pulls a few paper towels from the machine bolted to the wall and drys her hands. “It’s like foreplay for them at this point.”

You laugh, checking under your eyes for make-up smears. “Any ideas about this mystery guest?”

“No idea.” She tugs the brass handle of the door open, and you follow her back into the bar. “Maybe her brother?” 

“That would be nice,” you say, your boot heels tapping on the dark chevron floors, “He just got married, right?”

“So young, practically still a baby,” she tuts, her head shaking from side to side.

“Robin, he’s not that-”

Robin's hand clamps onto your forearm, a squeal escaping her mouth as excitement radiates through her. She bounces on her toes, leaving you in her wake. Whoever elicited such a reaction is being blocked by Steve and Jonathan. When she gracefully maneuvers past them, you catch a fleeting glimpse of dark curls before the two men shift back into place, obscuring your view once more. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the other patrons swells in your ears. Your feet carry you forward, curiosity resonating like the reverb of a guitar. Steve feels you coming up behind him and shifts to the side. Without warning, rich chocolate eyes are locked onto yours. Eyes you haven’t seen in eleven years when he left you a mixtape instead of a goodbye. The eyes of the man that shattered your heart into so many pieces, all the edges are still sharp. 

“Hey, doll.”

The breath trapped in your lungs forms a suffocating bubble, its dull, aching pressure stifling any movement in or out, causing your body to lock in protest. You're tugged forward, unable to fight it, until your body collides with his. The faint but familiar scent of him embraces you, lingering beneath the spicy notes of expensive cologne. Triggering a flood of a hundred painful memories, like songs you’ve overplayed and can’t bear to hear again. They jar your instincts into overriding the shock, compelling you to push him away. Eddie's solid frame absorbs the force. To your relief, the others haven't noticed as you retreat to your seat. Your trembling hand raises your martini to your lips, taking larger swallows than you normally would, but nothing with this situation is normal. 

"Desperate times," you mutter under your breath, tipping back your glass. By the time everyone has settled back into their seats, your martini glass stands drained, the lingering taste of its contents  bittersweet on your tongue.

Steve directs the waitress to bring another drink for you and a double Mescal for Eddie. The others' voices are a distant buzz in your ears, but their words don't breach the barrier of your thoughts. The chords playing in your mind are more discernible now. Their lyrics printed onto the faded photographs of a boy that you struggle to reconcile as the man before you. He's older, but you are too. His long hair is much shorter, the dark curls a richer brown pushed away from his face. A few lines grace the corners of his eyes and forehead–a reminder of the life he's lived without you. 

Steve's comforting hand wraps around your shoulders while the other finds a home sliding between the soft skin where your legs are crossed, exposed by the high slit of your skirt. Eddie's eyes are on you, his stare focused on Steve's big hand covering half your thigh. Your left hand moves on top of Steve's, adjusting to make sure the sparkling rock on your finger gleams with brilliance in the soft, ambient light.

"Well, this is a blast from the past," Robin notes, her voice full of whimsy as she dangles her cocktail glass between two fingers, swaying it gently like a pendulum.

"Aren't you all glad I forced you to come out?" Nancy quips, much more relaxed now that her plan has come to fruition.

"You did good, love," Johnathan murmurs. His fingers tangling with hers before giving her a quick peck. 

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Steve agrees, "How long has it been, dude? Three, four years?"

"Yeah, I think that was the last time you were in L.A." Eddie scratches at his chin, covered with just enough scruff to almost be a beard. 

Steve keeps in touch with Eddie? Had he told you when you hadn't been paying attention to him, your mind wandering with the words you would write for other people's songs?

"Now, I know that I told you only old friends," Nancy says, angling herself towards the plaid upholstered chair that Eddie occupies. "But Argyle knows all the local talent, and I thought he'd be a good connection to have since you're moving here."

"What?" You ask, as if a sudden vacuum has just sucked the air from the room.

"You're moving here?" Robin's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of all her friends in the same city. She was the original connection that brought you together all those years ago. 

"When you say here. You mean Hawkins, right? You're moving back to Hawkins," you clarify.

"No. I mean here. I'm moving to Chicago," Eddie says, leaning back into his chair, his long legs spread in his tailored black suit, the black v-neck underneath giving off a laid-back California vibe. "I told those corporate studio fucks I was done. I'm opening my own place to record music that's actually good, not just the kind that will sell. I'm surprised you don't know all this, doll. Isn't it supposed to be your job or something?"

“Fu–”

"Why Chicago?" Jonathan asks, cutting you off before you let loose a very appropriate response to his question, "Why not stay in L.A. or New York. Aren't there music scenes bigger than here?"

Eddie tips his head to the side, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "You know, L.A.'s lost its charm for me. Too many fake people made out of plastic. And, well, Wayne's not getting any younger. Thought it's about time to be closer, you know?"

“You'd be much closer in Hawkins. Bet you could find a place downtown real cheap. You should go look there.” You cross your arms over your chest, drawing a line in the sand. 

“Hawkins doesn’t really scream rock ‘n’ roll, and I already got a place, but thanks,” he says, unconcerned as ever by your tone.

“Look at you two,” Robin says, clapping her hands, “Just like old times, back to your usual banter." Her mischievous grin widens, "Remember when she had that massive crush on you, Eddie? You’d stroll into Musicland during our shift, and she’d follow you around with those big heart eyes.”

Your ears ring as heat rushes up to your neck to your cheeks,the whole world spinning. Eddie looks down, swirling the remnants of gold liquid in his crystal-cut glass.

“You’re exaggerating, Robin,” you sputter, reaching for your drink, hiding behind the lip of the glass, “We were just friends. And it couldn’t have been too major. I don’t even remember it.”

“Oh, come on,” she protests, “Everybody knew.”

"I didn't," Steve's voice cuts through her teasing, leaving an awkward stillness in its wake. The distant sounds of high-pitched laughter and the faint scrape of utensils against plates fill the void. Your friends exchange uncomfortable glances, even though there was no malice in his tone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, though,” his smile puts everyone at ease. “Right, Ace?” His head dips, brushing your lips in confirmation. You nod as he continues, “Robin, remember when we both went on dates with the same girl. What was her name? Brenda.” His fingers snap with the recollection.

“That’s right, Brenda! Brenda Mackenzie!” Robin laughs and begins to regale the group with the story.

When you lift your eyes, Eddie’s stare remains fixed on you, amusement replaced with an intensity you can’t read. An unfinished sentence or lyric. Words hanging between you like a question that you can't answer—one that you don’t want to.

“I’m going for another drink,” you say to Steve, picking up your empty glass. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, brows drawing together.

“No, I’m okay,” you tell him with a plastered-on smile, “You want anything?”

He shakes his head no. “I let my car service go early. I’ll drive us home in your car.”

With gentle fingers, you sweep aside a stray lock of hair that's draped across his forehead, planting a tender kiss on his lips before making your way to the bar. 

There is a soft creak of the leather as you seat yourself on a high stool in front of the polished wood bar. A bartender with an easy smile takes your order and leaves, giving you a much needed moment alone. Your lungs expand and contract without releasing any tension. You study your reflection in the mirror behind the rows of brightly lit bottles. If you could rewind the tape to a few hours ago, you'd have happily stayed in your office. Calling Nancy tomorrow to grovel for forgiveness for messing up her plans. But you can’t and the song plays on. It’s always the music that hurts the worst.

You release an audible sigh, your breath escaping through parted lips, as he settles onto the stool beside you. With a casual tap of his rings against the bar, he signals for the bartender, raising a single finger, his tongue peeks out, grazing his bottom lip as he gestures toward his empty glass.

"What’s the matter, doll? You really that unhappy to see me?" Eddie drawls, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It’s been eleven years, Eddie. Sorry I’m not organizing a parade." You settle back into your seat, glancing around as if you're bored.

The bartender lowers his eyes as they deliver your drinks and wisely retreats to the far end of the establishment.

"I didn’t come here to fight," Eddie replies, his tone softening. He shifts his weight slightly on the stool, one arm resting casually on the counter, the glint of a gold chain around his neck catching the dim light.

"Then why are you here?" Your eyes narrow as your fingers trace the condensation on the side of the full glass.

"A fresh start. To build something of my own." He looks at you with determination, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bar lights.

"Then build it somewhere else," you respond curtly, your words laced with frustration. You pick up your drink and down half of it in one go, the chilled liquid leaving a slight burn as it slides down your throat. Setting the glass back down, you turn to leave.

He stops you with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist, his touch causing your pulse to quicken beneath his fingertips. "There are some things I want to say to you. Let me take you to lunch unless Harrington has got you on too short of a leash."

You pull your wrist back, the feel of his touch lingering like smoke in the air. "Whatever you have to say has waited this long, try again in another decade. Unless you're dying."

"Would it make a difference if I was?" He meets your gaze with amusement playing on his lips.

"Let me think about it… nope." Your reply is quick and sharp, meant to cut.

"I know you're mad–" 

"No. Mad would imply some kind of emotional attachment. What I feel is indifference. In case you don't know the definition, that means nothing at all." Your voice stays cool and detached as you hop off the stool. "It's a big city, Eddie. There's no reason we have to see each other again." 

"We'll have to see about that," he smirks. 

"Have a nice life," you say a final goodbye to your past and turn away, walking in the direction of Steve when he stops you with one more question.

"Did you listen to it? The tape, did you ever listen?" 

The lie comes without hesitation. 

“No.”

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AN: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. If you have a song that you think Eddie would have recorded on the mixtape send it to me in an ask and it might be included. Anything before 2001. I'd love to hear from you. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

[ressonancee]

WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying. 

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast.  He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it. 

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy. 

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today. 

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake. 

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration. 

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

 "You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything. 

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho. 

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane. 

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car. 

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something. 

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either. 

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours. 

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team. 

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.” 

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought” 

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy? 

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.” 

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast. 

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet. 

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly. 

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-" 

"Sure, sure man, no big." 

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies” 

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…” 

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons." 

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was. 

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb? 

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?" 

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable. 

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay." 

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions -  Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit. 

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something. 

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you,  "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-" 

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps. 

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention." 

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping. 

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed.  "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I  know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying" 

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care. 

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.” 

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull. 

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything. 

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.” 

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world. 

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!” 

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much. 

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower. 

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime. 

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it. 

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good. 

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you. 

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra. 

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours. 

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours. 

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy. 

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back. 

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.

[evilminji]

Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?

Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.

Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.

Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.

And then later, them.

Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.

"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.

They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.

And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:

"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."

Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.

And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.

This.

But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.

Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.

.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.

This is Fine(tm).

You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!

You kidnapped them.

Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆

The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.

Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?

A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.

Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.

Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.

The other ones dressed up in stars.

Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.

He laughs and it's not a kind one.

"Oi! A word if you will?"

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight

[nohoperadio]

I feel like I don't take enough advantage of the faculty of imagination. I have the option available to me, at every moment, to imagine any kind of wacky scenario I want, like maybe, like what if I was on some sort of different planet or something... whatever the details aren't important. But I never do basically! (<- look at that I can't even be bothered to come up with something good to imagine for illustrative purposes in this post)

My ex had aphantasia (I was in the room with her when she first figured this out) and was really upset about it, like almost kind of traumatized by it, in part because making art was a big part of her identity and it seemed to impose a skill cap on that, but also because of the feeling of suddenly finding out everyone except you has this amazing superpower and thinking of how great it would be to conjure whatever images you want at any time. And part of what I responded to her was like yeah I can see how it sounds like this incredible thing but it's way less exciting than you think, people don't actually spend their time sitting around playing all these cool movies in their head, that's not really a thing.

Which I think is true, it's true of myself anyway, I guess I don't know how much it's true in general? People daydream, I daydream, but most of my daydreaming is about interactions with people, like conversations that I'm anticipating or remembering or dreading or desiring, which don't require much in the way of cinematic presentation. I guess sexual fantasy is the other category of daydreams I have, which admittedly involves somewhat more graphical processing, although even then less than one might expect. I think those might be the only two things I actively use my imagination for? Reading fiction uses it a little bit, although again less than you'd think, and that's obviously a more passive kind of thing. Just seems kinda depressingly limited when I spell it out like that! Given that in theory there are like infinity possibilities.

Am I unusually boring here, are other people having better daydreams than me? Obviously some people, like writers (most obviously but not exclusively writers of fiction and poetry (actually does poetry even deserve a mention here, do poets actually try to describe things these days?)) and many kinds of visual artists are doing this in a very disciplined way, although plausibly they wouldn't bother doing so if it wasn't in service of some concrete finished product. Dunno. If you have interesting daydreams I wanna hear from you.

[abalidoth]

what is cosmere? (is that what its called?)

The Cosmere is a big, interconnected fantasy universe that is the setting of most of the works by the author Brandon Sanderson. The cool thing about his books is that each series is contained to its own world, and you can read any of them in isolation without realizing you're missing anything, but if you read them all you get a sense of the larger plot happening behind the scenes as those worlds start to collide and things cross over.

Brandon's magic systems tend to be very rule-based and well-defined, with a lot of twists being characters finding interesting ways to use those rules of magic. This lends itself well to the crossovers, because all the magic systems (as different as they are) share the same underpinning principles.

Here's some quick rundowns of different series and standalones in the Cosmere:

The Stormlight Archive

Planned ten-book series, currently four books are out.

A massive sprawling epic about the world Roshar, that's hit by a hurricane about every four days, and all the life has adapted to survive that environment. Knights Radiant -- superpowered individuals with a close bond to a spirit -- are starting to re-emerge in the world after being absent for centuries.

Because there are so many characters, this is where a lot of the character fandom tends to focus their efforts. I wouldn't recommend starting with it, though -- the first book alone is a thousand pages. I'd wait until you have a sense of Brandon's writing. But it's very good.

Mistborn

One trilogy (completed), one tetralogy set a couple hundred years later (completed), two trilogies some time in the future.

One cool thing about this series is that it follows one world (Scadrial) from a vaguely Renaissance tech level in the first trilogy, to 1920s in the second series, and eventually 1980s in the third and space-age magic in the fourth.

The magic itself is very intricate and all woven around metals -- there are people called Metalborn who can ingest metals and burn them in their stomachs to get different effects, including super-senses, strength, and Magneto-ish metallokinesis. That last bit makes the gunfights in the second series particularly fun.

The first book is a heist novel about robbing a thousand-year-old God-Emperor blind. It's a pretty good place to start, although it's a pretty hefty novel to start with.

The Emperor's Soul

I'm putting this one in a different category from the rest of the one-offs for a very good reason -- it's, in my opinion, the single best place to start reading the Cosmere.

It's a novella (just over a hundred pages) about a forger named Shai who uses magic to rewrite the histories of objects. She is captured by the government of an empire to reforge the soul of their Emperor, who has been left braindead after an assassination attempt, in the 100 days before the mourning period is over.

It's a fantastic meditation on art, a cool introduction to the way Brandon writes both characters and magic systems, and Shai herself is one of my favorite Cosmere characters. If any of this sounds at all interesting to you, I recommend you check it out.

One-offs

Brandon has also written a bunch of one-off novels in the Cosmere.

Elantris: His first book, and the one that my tattoo is from. About a prince who is affected by a dark transformation and thrown into a city of fellow undead, and the princess betrothed to him who arrives just in time to be told he died. Good, but suffers from some first book issues, pacing problems, and weird plot cul-de-sacs. Set in the same world as The Emperor's Soul, although there's basically no crossover.

Warbreaker: About a world where souls (Breaths) are bought and sold, and used to animate objects to do work, ruled by The Returned, living gods who require a steady dose of Breaths to live. One of my favorites, and an essential if you'd like to get into the crossover-y parts of the cosmere, as it introduces a bunch of elements that show up later (Especially in Stormlight)

Tress of the Emerald Sea: The first of his wildly successful Kickstarter project books, it's a fairy tale style story about a girl who braves a sea of bubbling, deadly spores to rescue the man she loves. It's lovely, especially if you're into a more Diana Wynne Jones kind of vibe to your fantasy. Probably a pretty good place to start!

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter: The third Kickstarter book. About a shrine priestess who stacks rocks to draw spirits, and a man who paints the nightmares that roam the streets of his city to banish them -- they become trapped in each other's places and must learn about each other's worlds to survive. This is currently my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE cosmere novel, oh my GOD it's so good. I'm not sure it's a great place to start, as a lot of the conclusion might feel a bit rushed if you don't have a good feel for the vibe of how Brandon writes magic, but honestly it might stand alone just fine even then.

The Sunlit Man: Fourth Kickstarter book. I haven't read this one yet.

Novellas: There are a bunch of novellas and short stories, some set on worlds we haven't otherwise seen, some set on Roshar or Scadrial.

If any of this sounds good to you, I recommend you give his writing a shot. He's one of my all time favorite writers (the tattoo should prove that, lol) and the Cosmere fandom is by and large wonderful and welcoming. I've made many lifelong friendships there.

[definitelynotshouting]

Can you tell us something about Martyn or Scott in your hunger au? Completely your choice on what, I just want to see what they’re like in your au

[A COMM CALL; QUIET SPEECH FILTERED THROUGH LOW CRACKLES OF STATIC]

MARTYN

I'm not gonna lie, I didn't actually expect you to help them.

SCOTT

[A RUSTLE]

Why not? It's not like I had to do anything, really. Just— point them in the right direction and, I dunno, let them sort it out.

MARTYN

[Dryly] Yeah. I guess I just thought you'd be more... angry.

SCOTT

Me? I'm not— I wouldn't say I'm angry. Why, are you angry?

MARTYN

[SLIGHT PAUSE]

...

Y'know, that's hard to say. I don't think I'm not angry, but I'm not, like... actively mad, either?

SCOTT

Well, there you go, then. It's about the same for me, not much else to it.

MARTYN

...

Fair 'nough, I suppose.

SCOTT

Honestly, I'm surprised you're not more angry, considering all your— y'know, stuff.

MARTYN

What, just 'cause I knew Grian way back when?

SCOTT

Well yeah, obviously. You've known each other for a long time.

MARTYN

Have we? I'm not so sure anymore.

...

[Almost speaking to himself] He's felt weird for a while now, ever since he came back from Evo.

SCOTT

What's that supposed to mean?

MARTYN

Call it a hunch. I dunno, but he just feels— off. Wrong. Different? I can't put my finger on it.

[RUSTLE OF FABRIC, AS IF FROM A SHRUG]

Or— well, he did. Not like I've seen him around in a while.

SCOTT

[HUFF OF LAUGHTER]

Your superpower is freaky, Martyn, did you know that?

MARTYN

So you keep telling me.

[Teasingly] BigB thinks it's cool, though, so I don't give a damn what you have to say.

SCOTT

[Audible smile] BigB's got the superior opinion, yes, of course.

[A PAUSE]

MARTYN

...

So have you had any news yet? About if they've found him or not?

SCOTT

[With some surprise] You really want to know?

MARTYN

Yeah, man, tell me. He's still— I mean, I guess friend's a strong word now, but I still care.

SCOTT

Um, yeah, Jimmy said—

Hm.

...

MARTYN

[SMALL INCREDULOUS NOISE]

Jimmy said, did he?

SCOTT

I'm not sure why you're surprised. We do still talk, y'know.

MARTYN

Oh yeah, just— wasn't sure, is all, what with the whole— y'know, after the whole ranchers thing.

SCOTT

[Stiffly] Jimmy is... look, just because he has a boyfriend now who isn't me doesn't mean we can't whisper sometimes. Also, this is like, one of the least romantic topics you could ever talk about, so—

MARTYN

[BARK OF LAUGHTER]

God. Tell me about it.

SCOTT

Well I would, but you're too busy trying to interrogate me about Jimmy. I've got better things to do than sit here and pine, y'know?

[BRIEF SILENCE]

MARTYN

So, they found him?

...

[Press X to doubt] Right.

SCOTT

[LOW SIGH]

Yeah, they found him. Tango told Jimmy, who then told me; a bit of he said, she said...

He's in pretty rough shape.

MARTYN

[SMALL SCOFF]

That so?

SCOTT

According to Tango, yeah. Look, I didn't ask for any details, don't shoot the messenger. All I know is Jimmy said he's really sick.

MARTYN

[Wearily] Yeah, that sounds just like him. Goes haring off into the— the bloody sunset and comes back wrong immediately after. That's great.

[Slightly more upbeat] Cool, man, well— thanks for keeping me updated. I 'ppreciate it. Good luck with Tim.

SCOTT

[A LONGER SIGH]

I don't nee—

[ANOTHER PAUSE]

Okay, yes, yeah. I'll keep you up to date as best I can.

MARTYN

Maybe whisper Tango directly while you're at it. Cheers, Scott.

SCOTT

Mhm. See you around, Martyn.

[CLICK]