#feel free to ignore it i just wanted to let the world know that phrase came from you

[quietblueriver]

Very short thing set immediately after ep 95 because it wrecked me and I had a second to Kermit-style spew some feelings. Imogen-centric, as I am wont. Pls excuse any typos and the probably wild overuse of the comma.

-

Long moments pass, the ridge of Laudna’s nose pressing just underneath Imogen's jaw, her arms linked around Imogen’s waist as Imogen does what she can not to break in half. 

It’s second nature, to run her fingers through Laudna’s hair, a familiar action, easy, meant to soothe them both, meant to keep them grounded, together, tethered. Imogen knows exactly how much pressure to use, how to move gently to avoid hurting Laudna or coming away with a small creature’s worth of hair in her palm. She’s done it a hundred times before, a thousand, but this time, there’s a prickle in her mind and her hand slows on the second full pass as she tries to figure out what’s different, what’s wrong. Except it’s what’s right, actually. Or what would be right, if Laudna were someone else. The strands are softer, thicker, falling through her fingers easily. Almost like Laudna’s…

Imogen’s rigid as the thought takes hold, and Laudna shifts against her with a small questioning noise. It takes everything she has to try to relax, but it’s apparently enough, cool lips grazing the skin of her neck as Laudna settles again. 

Fuck. She can’t be sure, no matter how many times she lets the strands glide over her skin, whether there really is something different or whether she’s just looking for Delilah everywhere now, and she hates it, hates that her life has been so disrupted, so shaken, that even this almost mundane intimacy can’t be trusted. Her world tilts just a little more, and surely, surely, she’s finally upside-down.

The body that has helped to keep her here relaxes further into her, trusting and vulnerable, even as Imogen tries not to show her panic, tries to hide the way she keeps her breath shallow because she’s scared she’ll smell something other than earth mixed with lavender.

Fighting back the angry, screaming sob that seems to live perpetually in her throat these days, she feels, a little distantly, the cold sigh against her neck.

The exhale shifts into a phrase that Laudna has repeated more times than Imogen can count in the last half hour: “I love you.” 

There had been a momentary relief the first time Laudna said it, free of the stain of Delilah’s echo, something pure in the middle of their absolutely fucked, world-breaking conversation. Laudna, just Laudna, telling Imogen she loves her. 

But each repetition sounds less like reassurance and more like desperation, more like a plea. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me. She wants so badly for that to be true.

But Imogen has never been allowed to live in what she wants to be true.

Maybe it is still Laudna, soft and true and hers, but they’re too far gone now for Imogen to trust it.

She knows that those words are a perfect weapon for Delilah, an ideal means of self-preservation. There is no better way to keep Imogen on the line, to give Imogen–and maybe Laudna, too–hope that some part of Laudna has been preserved from Delilah's influence, than by making it seem as though she can’t touch their love. 

She almost can’t bear their corruption, but the only thing worse than hearing those words like this is not hearing them at all, so she takes them dipped in poison, feels them feed the rotten and writhing truth inside of her. It’s a truth that she has been avoiding since that night in Whitestone, and now it’s crawling beneath her skin, coiling in her stomach, refusing to be ignored any longer: 

Something is wrong. 

Laudna is wrong. 

And what is Imogen supposed to do with that? 

“I love you, too,” she whispers, and it is a truth, too, as it has always been, but, face pressed into dark hair that she’s suddenly afraid to breathe in in case it’s the thing that topples them both, Imogen has no idea how much of Laudna there is left to love.

#imodna #imodna fic #critical role spoilers #imogen temult centric

[akai-anna]

@livmadart voice: he's like a bug

#detective conan #anime #edogawa conan #the detective gremlin #detco watching #detco posting #i'm so sorry liv your influence has been just so strong this particular phrase keeps echoing in my head #today on my rewatch i reached HONDOU EISUKE (MY ELUSIVE SON!!! I MISSED YOU) INTRO EPISODE AND THIS FRAME CAME @ ME #and i was instantly like ''he's like a lil bug'' #so I'm sorry for the tag in a way but also not in another #feel free to ignore it i just wanted to let the world know that phrase came from you #but gosh his EYES ARE SO HUGE HERE THE PROPORTIONS ARE INSANE #also: innocent child act turned on at 120% so he can get that info lol i love him

[verstappen-cult]

gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!

THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo blurb #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x you #alex albon imagine #oscar piastri fanfic

[alijuan]

Ascended Astarion is true unlike Spawn Astarion who pretends to be good for Tav

If i see that opinion again i will explode🫠

It's funny because Astarion will only approves if you persuade him not to perform the ritual.

A lot of people don't understand the concept of grey morality and it shows. Many people justify him but this type of AA fan thinks worse of him than he really is. He needs the ritual not because he's a power-hungry villain, but because he needs safety for himself and his lover. Depending on Tav/Durge's actions, he either stays with the feeling of fear (AA is still afraid deep inside, the game files confirm this) or he fights against it and becomes truly free of Cazador and fear (spawn ending). The dialogue with Durge about not being afraid is wonderful and shows difference between SA and AA.

Astarion: This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live. Astarion: I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of your darkness, and not of our future.

The point of the spawn ending is that Tav/Durge saw him as more than just an outward image of a power-hungry killer incapable of becoming a better person. But if you can't see beyond that image, he will think that he has no choice but to continue living in the world that Cazador has built for him. If you think that AA is his best ending because he is evil then you have failed to understand his whole personality.

I feel safe with you. Seen.

Despite of his love of killing (he is a vampire after all), he repeatedly showed compassion and guilt for luring people. Before the ritual, he literally convinced himself that he should kill spawn for power. Astarion rationalises this to protect his psyche, because he’s clearly not the type of guy who can sacrifice thousands of people to the devil and not feel anything about it.

Durge/Tav: This isn’t you, Astarion. Not really. Astarion: It should be.

I really like that the player technically makes the insight check and that there’s an advantage when they're romancing Astarion. Tav/Durge could see through the image Astarion was trying to create. They saw an elf whose fear prevented him from seeing all the possibilities.

Astarion: When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now.

Just as Astarion saw Durge not just as serial killer, but as someone who could defeat Urge and become a better person.

Durge: I am myself at last. You don't need to fear anything from me ever again. Astarion: I knew you had that sweat heart all along. I was alarmed by you sometimes, scandalised even, but somehow by your side, I still only ever saw you.

AA fans also often ignore the fact that the game has good and bad endings in the companion stories. And it's not about morality. All companion quests are literally about how the desired and obvious path leads to a bad ending. And Astarion is no exception. In a good ending, he gets the chance to heal and finally acceptes himself and his vampire nature, in a bad ending, he gives up and regresses as a person.

Spawn Astarion knows what he wants and says it. SA is ready for a relationship and sex. Ascended Astarion can’t answer the question of what he wants, so he acts as a vampire lord should. AA is literally back to the state of the first act and has started manipulating Tav/Durge through sex again (even repeating the same phrases). This is why he doesn’t really want sex (he approves if you choose the no sex option and he definitely dissociated during the sex scene) unlike Spawn Astarion who initiated it.

Spawn Astarion is the same Astarion who enjoys “murder and terror” and you can see that clearly in his “hero” ending (more like “antihero”). And this is the ending without romance, he chose it himself. And the whole idea of him pretending to be good for Tav is actually meaningless without romance.

Ascended Astarion is the same Astarion, but stuck in a black and white world of fear and domination.

SA scene ends with hope music (instrumental version of I want to live) AA scene ends with chains.

And there’s so much more. Larian specifically showed the difference between good and bad endings in the dialogues, scenes after ritual, recent updates and even the interview so people would definitely understand, but they didn't🙃 Some AA fans (especially on youtube and larian forum) are on a new level of delusion.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #Narrative comprehension is dead #durgestarion #astarion x durge #astarion x tav #spawn astarion #ascended astarion #такого непонимания очевидного я не видела даже в геншин фандоме

[luveline]

Hi Jade! So definitely feel free to ignore this if you aren't interested I totally get it! But if you want I was thinking of the zombie Steve au and how my biggest fear would be to ask him for help finding period supplies while in the road. I know you said in your faq you don't write this, but I was thinking really it wouldn't be about any physical things reader is experiencing but more like embarrassment asking Steve and he's like "its no big deal!" Anyway, like I said if this is a hard no pls ignore! 💙

hi, hope this is ok ♡ steve zombie!au

cw reader menstruates + eats meat 

Your back always aches. Your stomach always hurts. Symptoms of your period are stealthy under the general misery of life on the road, but you do eventually clock on. This persistent back ache is pervasive today, working its way around your stomach. It feels like a sharp stab of heat, and it's nothing compared to the pain you'll feel when it actually starts. 

Steve turns his rabbit over the fire slowly, unaware of your internal struggle. "I still can't believe it," he says. 

Not only did your snares work for the first time ever, you caught two. It's the first time in weeks you've eaten something that wasn't canned, your fingers still warm from your own. The fire is small to avoid attention, one rabbit smoked at a time. 

Steve let you have yours first. He's chivalrous when he wants to be. 

"Maybe we're getting good at this," you say, turning your water bottle into your hand. The smallest splash you can manage wets your palms. You rub them together and dry them haphazard on an already dirty shirt from your backpack. 

"Yeah… maybe not," he says, shaking his rabbit skewer as it starts to smoke. "Shit. You made it look easy." 

"It is easy, Steve. Do you want me to do it?" 

He offers you the skewer, a sharpened, scorched stick you made in an attempt to be clean. You shuffle across the grass on your knees to take it, happy and sad at once when he touches your waist. You eat up any affection he's willing to give you (not much), but you feel disgusting today, worse now you know you're going to come on. 

You bite your top lip as you tend to his food. How do you tell him? You're going to have to, because right now you're in a vaguely safe area, and now you'll have to backtrack to the last place you went. You should've been looking for sanitary napkins or tampons or something anyways, just in case, even if you hadn't had your period for ages. 

"Steve, I… I think I've done something stupid." 

He scrapes his hair from his face. "That's unusual."

"No, I– I really have." 

Steve drops his hands into his lap, frowning, always frowning. "Lay it on me." 

You shift uncomfortably, focused on the heat of the flames not quite licking at Steve's skinned rabbit. How to phrase it? What would you have said before the end of the world. "I think it's going to be my time of month, soon. And… and I should've thought about it before, when we were near the mall still, or that house, but I didn't. I'm gonna need– you know. Things." 

Steve surprises you, shuffling closer, rather than away. Not that you were expecting him to treat you like a leper, but it's not a fun thing to tell someone. His hand again touches your side, fingertips brushing the tight wrap of your raincoat. "Are you in pain?" he asks. 

"A little," you answer, voice thick, talking before you've thought about what you're really saying, "I've had it way worse. I don't know why it stopped for so long." 

"You were probably too stressed," he says, his hand moving only an inch or two to cover your back. "Here, give me that." 

"Sorry, I know it's gross." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks, having taken the rabbit from your hands and laid it to rest on a clean stretch of hot stone. "It's not a big deal. Like, it is if you're hurting, but it's fine." 

"We'll have to go back," you lament. "I'm sorry." 

"Why are you so stressed about this?" Steve looks genuinely worried, his fingertips coasting a short path between your shoulder blades. Gentle, he starts to rub your back, goosebumps erupting along your skin at such a foreign sensation. "I took the same health classes as you did, I know you can't help it. Is this why you've been so slow today?" He doesn't wait for a response, only grins at his insulting, "I still have a square of Hershey's in my bag, did you want that?" 

"Tastes like chalk," you say. You'd love some chocolate right now, but you'd love it more if he stayed here rubbing your back forever. 

"You're not the only thing ageing badly." 

"Lowlife." 

"Wimp." 

"Dick," you mutter, closing your eyes as his hand skirts to the small of your back. 

"Is this helping?" he asks, matching your low volume. "We should go back anyway. Hole up in one of the houses by the elementary we passed." 

"I can walk. I'll be okay. I just need something to stay clean." 

"Okay. I'll get you what you need, don't worry. Don't worry." He hugs you very briefly, a quick squeeze against his side. "I'll make it suck as little as possible." 

You look up at him with evident relief. "Thanks, Steve." 

"We're in this together. Right?" 

"Right." You smile. Steve smiles back. You've caught him in a good mood tonight for sure because of your successful snares, but you're wondering if he would've been this good to you no matter what. Steve is a good guy when he isn't asking you if you just got off the imbecile train. 

"Will you finish that for me?" he asks, pointing at his rabbit. 

"Oh, yeah. Of course." 

When it's cooked, he insists you eat a little more of his. "You're gonna need the extra, yeah?" he asks, forcing strips of cooked meat into your hand. "Especially if we're walking back tomorrow." 

Steve hands you his last clean wash cloth before setting up for sleep. He might be understanding, but he doesn't seem to know what to say. You take it gratefully, and the brief squeeze he gives your shoulder even more so. 

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[gildedkrone]

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

“Ale, you know that I can’t let you go right?”

The great commander shackled to the chair isn’t going anywhere and each of his futile struggles rings the shackles attached to his ankles and wrists.

“Valeria, puta, my men won’t let you get away with this.”

“Get away?” She scoffs and rests her hands on her thighs in a squat and raised his chin with a finger.

“Ale, Ale, you know that I already have everything I want. The missiles, they were so easy to get.”

She tuts lovingly; he knows it’s a façade even if he keeps falling for her disguises willingly if only for a taste of illicit thrill he’s come to miss in her absence. If the knowing look in her eyes are any indication, she plays off it to her best benefit as the thrill.

“I couldn’t have done this alone, pendejo. I’ve had …” She takes her time in spelling it out for him. “I’ve had some help, you see.”

She snorts when the poor man furrows his eyes and issues a command. Alejandro watches her soldier approach one of his men—you, his trusted side aide and strategic advisor and with a click, the cuffs around your wrists are unlocked.

Confusion is soon replaced with anger, bright hot and rushing to his temples when she tuts disapprovingly.

“The great Alejandro” —she mocks him—“making a rookie mistake. I expected better, especially from you of all people.”

At the moment, he wants nothing more than to be free of his restraints just so he could send a fist into your smug face lounging beside her while massaging your sore wrists. He trusted you to help him with his operations—the late nights spent working together to discuss and formulate strategy, only for him to trust the wrong person and put all of his men in danger.

The easy camaraderie fostered between the two of you turned out to be nothing but lies and deceit, and Alejandro has been foolish and wanting enough to have fallen into it. It is as Valeria says—he’s a man with a heart too kind for the world and eventually, eaten by the wolves.

Valeria hums appreciatively when she sees you in the uniform his men sported. Looking good, chinco lindo and you share a smile with her. Her shoulders are stressed and she would never admit sending you deep into enemy territory worried her; the El Sin Nombre isn’t one for theatrics and feelings.

Alejandro watches you whisper something into her ear as her eyes turn coy and she rests a hand on the table. She whispers something conspiratorially and cups your face when you sink to the floor before her. The rest of the men file out of the room and he is face to face with you and his ex-partner, fling—there are too many names.

“Valeria, what are you planning?”

She ignores him in favour on focusing on you. Your lips are parted and your tongue peeks out to send her a message—you want to eat her out. To taste her on your mouth and Valeria finds herself not objecting to it. Especially if she can dirty that uniform the Las Vaqueros men wore with pride.

Her clothes are easy work and you gently nudge her thighs apart. The scent is heavenly and when she smirks, you dive forward and burry your face into her clit. The first drag of your tongue against her sex sends shivers up her spine and she chides gently to slow down and savour the taste. Who could blame you, really? You missed her and Alejandro is front row to your show of dedication and loyalty to her.

The Los Vaqueros commander rattles his restraints when Valeria peppers in the occasional phrases of encouragement once meant for him. Your eyes are dimmed with pleasure as each movement of your tongue only seeks more of the sweet juices of her cunt and a hard suck earns you a tug of your hair to pull you off her sex.

She admires her work—you with your face coated in her pussy juices and a tongue darting out in occasion to lap up whatever was on your lips. It’s so sweet and after weeks without it, you are starved for more of her. The excess liquid runs off your chin to drip onto your uniform; all while you are obedient as a puppy and resting on your knees and awaiting her next command. She spots the tightness in your pants and rests her boot against your groin and the suggestion almost had you creaming your pants.

“What a good boy, unlike the one in the chair. Go on, fuck yourself on my boot.” She barely finishes her sentence and your hips surge to press against the surface. The tentpole in your pants only grows in size as your hips find purchase on her boots and eventually, it’s too tight for comfort and you whine in hopes she will be merciful.

Alejandro knows he should look away. It’s a sick and perverse display of pleasure meant to rile him up and try as he did, his eyes remained on you and the drunk expression on your face as noises of pleasure flew from your lips. Make no mistake, she is in charge here (as she always is). Much to his dismay, it is riling him up in an unintended way when he feels the organ between his legs stirring from dormancy.

Valeria, ever cunning, knows this too and rests her hand on your cheeks before her fingers plunge into your mouth. Your tongue coats them thoroughly and the most obscene of sounds, all wet and gushy, only makes Alejandro’s fight against his desires even harder.

“Take your dick out, chico.” You nod and your pants are unbuttoned with such eagerness, Valeria finds herself impressed. You breathe a sigh of relief when your dick is let out of its cotton prison and moan when it leaks with each movement. All while Alejandro is fighting a losing battle against the lust pooling in his groin.

“Ale, you don’t seem to be doing too well. Do you need a doctor?” He grits his teeth and you smirk when you see your former commander all stiff and squirmy as pleasure laced his muscles. You rut into her boots and she gives the command to speed up and you do just that. Each brush of the shoe against your sensitive cock is accompanied by sounds of restrained pleasure and she laughs sardonically.

“Does my good boy want to cum?” You nod desperately as you were so close but without permission from her, you are unworthy of spilling your seed all over her. Your nose—overwhelmed by the scent of her—when she pulls your head in rest at her sex and she sounds appreciative when you return to lapping and sucking at her folds.

She mutters something in Spanish and her legs cage your head in tight to keep your face, and your nose against her as a flood of sweet nectar coats you face before dripping off in strings onto your body and the floor. Your whines signals you are close and if only she would give you permission and finally, she whispers the magic words.

“Go on, cum your brains out, perrito.” With a final thrust and a choked gasp, the build-up of pleasure ends in a spectacular spray of cum over her boot and the floor as your runaway hips rut harder into her to prolong your orgasm. The spurts taper into small dribbles with each bobbing of your dick and she praises you again. Thank you, you mutter absentmindedly as the feelings of pleasure taper into something sated.

Alejandro’s fury turns into something ugly and green as she gently touches your face. She had done that for him a long time ago, before the cartel intervened and their relationship frayed and burned like matches. His mind taunts him with scenes of the past: nights of passion and longing between him and her, and now he pays the price with a body thrumming with unfulfilled desire while she uses another man for her pleasure.

“You like that, tonto? What a dirty man. Clean up your shit, bastard.” She has always been vocal about using men for their dicks, and nothing seems to have changed. Not that you mind of course since your body exists to be her toy to experiment and play with.

Like a good dog, you lick up your dirty emissions and she runs a hand through your hair. You are her best soldier, and she rewards loyalty and dedication. Your dick goes back into your pants and a few moments later, you are as proper as you can be with all traces of the coupling gone.

She instructs you to resume your duties and dismisses you. Before you leave, you catch an angry Alejandro staring daggers as the door closed behind you and he vanishes out of sight. A pity, the Vaqueros commander is pleasant sight for sore eyes, with his suave beard and rugged demeanour but against Valeria, he pales in her glory.

Hopefully she is merciful with the man. Knowing her, both his heads will be in for a hell of a time tonight and a muffled moan behind doors proves the intuition to be correct.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist

tag: @lieutnt @arisonlyfans

#fanfic #cod x reader #cod mw2 #x reader #cod #reader insert #cod x male reader #x male reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #valeria garza #valeria x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria cod #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #valeria x you #el sin nombre #valeria x male reader #call of duty

[ohisms]

↪     𝑖𝑡'𝑠 ᵗʰᵉ 𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝑴𝑰𝑫𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 .   (  a  collection  of  sentence  starters  from  disney’s  2014  film  into the woods .   adjust  phrasing  as  necessary .  )

the king is giving a festival !

i wish the walls were full of gold ,  i wish a lot of things .

sometimes i wonder what’s going on in that head of yours .

what are you doing ?  stop your pretending .

are you certain of your way ?

the way is clear ,  the light is good .

the woods are just trees ,  the trees are just wood .

are you really wearing that ?

it’s not what i wish ,  it’s what you wish .

i could’ve turned him into stone .  or a dog .  or a chair .

a small price to pay for what you stole from me .

well ,  that’s another story .  nevermind ,  anyway .

sorry ,  i’m still not mollified .

how could you do that ?

your father was no father ,  so why should you be ?

we’re starving ,  [ name ] !  don’t you understand that ?

we have to live ,  i don’t care how .

look what i found .  here ,  take this .

no ,  i can do this on my own .

it may be all in vain ,  you know .

i have no fear ,  nor no one should .

careful not to lose the way .

what’s your rush ?  you’re missing all the flowers .

look what you’re ignoring .

why do you think i asked you to do it in the first place ?

get me what i need  ...  get me what i need !

you’d look pretty foolish .

i’d rather a wolf than you any day !

you shouldn’t be here ,  it’s not safe in these woods .

i was just trying to help .

we have one chance .  don’t you see that ?

i’m not sure i’m cut out to be a father .

if you can’t do this for yourself ,  can’t you at least do it for me ?

don’t you look lovely today ,  my dear ?

i brought your favorite .

i can’t believe i just did that .

wait a minute ,  i never thanked you .

i’m sorry .  i should’ve known better .

i had been so careful ,  i never had cared .

he made me feel excited ,  well  ...  excited and scared .

they will not protect you the way they should .

nice is different than good .

isn’t it nice to know a lot  ...  and a little bit not ?

oh ,  get your head out of the clouds !

i just need to catch  my breath .

aren’t you the lucky one ?

please don’t let them know that i’m here .

i’ve never lied to royalty before .

it’s not quite what i expected .

you’re free to do whatever pleases you .

steal what you can and run !

you’re back again ,  only different than before .

i never even reached home .

who cares ?  get it back .

get away from me with that ,  you fool .

i shouldn’t have yelled .

i will make things right ,  and we can carry on with our lives .

will you go ?  please .  go .

when the one thing you want  ...  is the only thing out of your reach .

the woods can be a dangerous place .

i thought you were returning home !

do you mean you’re going to let me stay with you ?

perhaps it will take two of us to have this child .

i thought one was enough ,  it’s not true .  it takes two of us .

when the journey was tough ,  it took two of us .

at home i’d fear we’d stay the same forever .

what did i clearly say ?   what were you not to do ?

what have i been to you ?  what would you have me be ?

i embarrass you .  you are ashamed of me .

don’t you know what’s out there in the world ?

someone has to shield you from the world .  stay with me .

who out there could love you more than i ?

the world is dark and wild .

stay a child while you can be a child .

i gave you protection ,  and yet you disobeyed me .

where you’re going ,  no one will ever see you again .

whichever you pick ,  do it quick .

it’s fun to deceive when you know you can leave ,  but you have to be wary .

at home ,  they don’t care .  i’m better off there ,  where there’s nothing to choose so there’s nothing to lose .

wait ,  please !   i haven’t much time .

that makes no sense !

what is that you have in your hand ?!

i would recognize these beautiful eyes anywhere .

is that you ?  i’m blind ,  i can’t see .

you could’ve been killed !

i was just thinking of the greater good .

i don’t have the constitution .

as long as i can be no help ,  i’m going to hide .

i don’t know where they think they’re going .

this is who i truly am ,  my dear .

why did you run off ?

i will not come with you .

you leave me no choice .

i shouldn’t complain .

i’m not allowed to leave the palace unescorted .

if you’d like ,  you can come with me .

i shall not forget you ,  and how alive you’ve made me feel .

you’re hurting me !

stop ,  stop !  i said stop !

this is all my fault .

remorse will get you nowhere .

when you’re dead ,  you’re dead !

this is no time to be soft - hearted !

you’re responsible ,  you’re the one to blame .  it’s your fault !

you’re all liars and thieves .

you’ll just do what you do .

it doesn’t matter if we’re together or apart .

i’m sorry ,  i did a foolish thing .

i didn’t realize ,  i was being careless .  selfish .

you stole and got caught and did what you do !

i hated myself .  i ran away from my guilt and shame .

aren’t you making the same mistake ?

be better than me .

i knew you wouldn’t give up .

that doesn’t matter ,  now .

first ,  we’ll need a weapon .

i did not recognize you ,  what are you doing here ?

maybe i’m not your only love .

if you love me ,  why did you stray ?

i thought that if you were mine ,  i would never wish for more .

i was raised to be charming ,  not sincere .

i think you should go .

i’m glad you’re here to help me .

you are not alone .  no one is alone .

you’ll do nothing of the kind .

what he did was wrong .  he should be punished .

it’s not as easy as that .

who can say what’s true ?

believe me ,  no one is alone .

people make mistakes .  fathers ,  mothers ,  people make mistakes .

you decide what’s right .  you decide what’s good .

just remember ,  someone is on your side .  someone else is not .

i miss her ,  too .

how can i go about being a father when i had no father to show me ?

sometimes people leave you  ...  do not let it grieve you ,  no one leaves for good .

things will be alright now .

#the process of making this involved a lot of crying <3 #rp meme #rp inbox meme #rp prompts #rp inbox prompt

[clavissionary-position]

What Emma Would Do

Ignore me. This is just me working through my own thoughts and feelings on this. Also I'm an idiot.

***BIG EDIT: I misread and misinterpreted. Azel was nearly drugged and SA'd, so his reaction, however cruel, makes complete sense to me. If he was real I couldn't apologize to him enough.

Moving @/caffedrine's billion-dollar comments up here.

My original, misguided post is below the cut if you're interested.

I have to ask myself what Emma would do. Within reason. And only within the scope of this fictional game, because I'm not about to touch this topic as it exists in the real world. That's for people much smarter than me.

But for the game, my dismissing of Azel as a cruel misogynist without seeing his circumstances and worldview shuts down the conversation the same way it does when Azel dismisses a woman as a slut without seeing her circumstances and worldview.

(Did he actually use the word 'slut' or did google just translate 痴女 like that for me... I should double-check... edit: oh my bad, he calls her a "female molester", which... I can't say he's wrong considering she tried to give him an aphrodisiac...? The word also means "stupid woman", so he could very well have meant it that way too, especially for some reasons I get into later in the post.)

Soooo, he didn't actually call her a slut. I'm an idiot 😌 I'm sorry, Azel. Dunno if any of my points below mean anything, but I'll leave it here anyway:

The running theme in Ikepri is to look beyond the beast and see the human inside. To meet them halfway. To see their heart. And that heart is always so very terribly scarred. All these guys have gone through their own traumas and come out the other end behaving in ways designed to be armor, to protect themselves from any further pain.

I can only speculate about Azel this early in his story arc, but being showered with the same adoration and reverence that people only show a god, day in and day out, probably fucks with your mentality a bit if you are still only human at the end of the day. Having women try to seduce you only because you're The Living God, well, we saw what that kind of shallow treatment did to Silvio. Women see you as an object and so women become objects to you. You want to be loved, but you don't want to be hurt.

That might only be scratching the surface with Azel, though. He's also clearly jaded from listening to the same old interpersonal problems people have when in relationships. Love is actual trash to him, not even worth a single penny. It's trash because the very people who follow him prove it to him on a daily basis, I imagine.

Yet that's still not the full picture. I mean, we obviously won't have the full picture until his main route drops, but there's another key factor to consider with Azel.

He quotes Pascal in Licht's sequel. "Man is only a reed, the weakest thing in nature; but he is a thinking reed." The full quote goes onto say:

"All our dignity consists, then, in thought. This is the basis on which we must raise ourselves, and not space and time, which we would not know how to fill. Let us make it our task, then, to think well: here is the principle of morality.”

(Did I read the entire context of the quote? HA! What do you take me for? A scholar or something?)

Free will and independent thought is arguably the most important thing to Azel. He has no respect for the sheep who flock to him for direction (though he'll happily take their money and tributes). Even with the dancer who tried to seduce him in the prologue, when he tells her to lick up the food she dropped after he tripped her, he presents it as a choice. Nevermind that the staggeringly unequal power dynamics at play made it so this was nothing short of coercion in the end; there was no way the dancer was in a position to stand up for herself and say no, even if that's exactly what Azel wanted. But from his perspective, defiance would have been welcome. That's why he phrased it as a choice. That she started licking up the food only solidified in Azel's mind that this woman is an unthinking reed without dignity. If you're going to act like trash, he'll treat you like trash... maybe that was part of his thinking.

On a slightly different note, I think another reason he hates the idea of love so much is because love makes people lose their ability to reason, to think. I believe he outright says as much, iirc.

In the end, I don't know from where exactly Azel's fury and cruelty comes from. It could be all of these things, it might be something else entirely. All I can think is, you can't be 'God' everyday and not be scarred by humans.

In conclusion, I can't excuse Azel's behavior. I don't excuse it. But I think Emma would try to understand the why of it, like she does in any other route. The other running theme in Ikepri is that, as a certain someone would put it, the essence of all people is love. It's their environment that twists them. Somewhere in Azel is the purest kind of love. A kind that would make any god look away in shame. That's what I want to believe in, anyhow.

Also, I need stress that I was SO wrong about whether he actually called the dancer a slut or not. Google fucked me over by translating it that way! Ah, Azel, I'm so sorry!

#ikepri jp spoilers #ikepri azel #ikemen prince

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hey steph!! would you happen to have any 'medium burn' (slow burn for the impatient) Johnlock fics? preferably minimal to no spice and a happy ending is a must! my weak heart can not bear an angsty ending :<

Thank you for all you do here <3

Hey Nonny!

HAHAHAH AHHHHH YES. The Medium Burn, huh. I never thought of calling my shorter "slow burn" fic lists Medium burn, but like... that's a good thing to call it! Because you don't have to wait too long to get it, hahha!

Ah, let me collect all the shorter fics on my Slow Burn Fics Lists and compile them here! I provide ratings for all of them, and chose to keep under.... 25K, let's say! If you're here on my blog, I'm guessing you can read through my lists like eating candy, so 25K is nothing hee hee.

I tag all my fics, so feel free to ignore the Ratings and Sad tags that you don't want to read <3

MEDIUM BURN FICS (Slow Burn Under 25K w.)

New Year, New Beginning by DaisyFairy (T, 810 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, New Year’s Eve, John POV, Friends to Lovers) – New Year at a crime scene and John makes a decision.

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

In Dreams by Youarethelightoftheworld (T, 1,340 w., 1 Ch. || Falling in Love, Accidental Cuddling, Snuggling, Fluff, Romance, Domestic Fluff) – Every once in a while, the dark makes it easier to see.

There's Always Three of Us by Itsallfine (T, 1,765 w., 1 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic/Post TFP, Parentlock / Rosie, Angelo’s, First Kiss, January 29, Love Declarations) – Sherlock takes John and Rosie out to Angelo's and gets a chance to correct the biggest mistake of his life.

Want by siennna (T, 1,806 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pining, First Kiss Requited, Second Person POV Sherlock) – When John speaks, you hear more than words. You hear the rise and fall of his tone, the comfortable quake of his laughter, the warm pauses of silence in between. When John laughs, there are stars glittering on his tongue and galaxies resting just behind his teeth, and you wish you could press your lips there and burrow into the warm sound. Part 6 of sienna’s favorites

100 ways to say 'I love you' by Teatrolley (NR, 2,143 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Fluff, Domestics) – Sherlock sleeps with John’s body next to him, and wakes up to find him making them both toast in the kitchen with sleep still sitting in the corner of his eye, and he holds on tight to every little intimacy that John gives him; every little small moment, every little fond smile. It could be enough. Still, he’d like more. But Sherlock Holmes doesn’t know how to ask for things. Luckily, John does. In which there are a hundred phrases and none of them are “I love you.” Until they are.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w., 1 Ch. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn't ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn't bother him to propose to John even though they're not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious. 

Rooftop Confession by Random_Nexus (T, 2,514 w., 1 Ch. || Ace Sherlock, Developing Relationship, Friendship / Love, Angsty Fluff) – Sherlock asks John to join him for a slightly unexpected discussion.

BBCSH 'How To Save A Life' by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of 'first kiss' fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock's nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of 'How To...'

What He's Like by magikspell (E, 2,919 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Fluff, First Time, Inexperienced Sherlock) – Realistic first time. They love each other so much.

Once is Enough by Jominerva (T, 3,030 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Whump) – Just as the earth rises to meet the sun at every mountain crest, John reaches out for Sherlock and takes his hand in his own."Tell me it won't end like this," he says, blue eyes holding grey while he laces their fingers together. Sherlock lets out a shaky laugh and shakes his head. "I wish I could."

A Bit of Indulgence by beltainefaerie (NR, 3,364 w. || Fake Relationship, Pride Parade, Declarations of Love, Fluff, Dev. Rel., Case Fic) – A case leads John and Sherlock to fake being boyfriends and John runs into an old acquaintance.

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson (T, 4,054 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Vacation, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions, Fluff, Requited Love) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

How Will I Know? by eragon19 (E, 4,895 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, POV Sherlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Imagination, Papa Lestrade, Masturbation) – Here was the problem: Sherlock Holmes was completely and irrevocably in love with John Watson, and he had absolutely no idea how to tell him.

changing tides by simplyclockwork (M, 5,983 w., 1 Ch. || Substance Use, Drug Relapse, High Sherlock, Sherlock Falls Down Stairs / Injury, Caring John, Drugs, Oblivious John, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, Acceptance, Pre-Relationship, Addiction, Starting Over, Self-Destructive Behaviour, Drugged Hallucinations, Forehead Touching, Sherlock POV) – If Sherlock were to stop to think about it, he might wonder if he’s simply lonely. He doesn’t stop to think about it.

Closeted by sussexbound (T, 6,115 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confession, First Kiss, Games, Trapped in a Closet) – Sherlock and John get trapped in a closet while on a case. Some revelations are made while they play a game to pass the time. Part 1 of Intimacy

Full Disclosure by Itsallfine (E, 7,032 w., 1 Ch. || Bars & Pubs, Fake Relationship, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, John’s Army Mates, Three Continents Watson, Semi-Public Sex) – John’s army mates get together for the first time post-discharge and invite John “Three Continents” Watson to join them. If John shows up alone, he knows he’ll be the object of non-stop ridicule all night. Sherlock plays along. John tests the waters.

A Lifetime Together by LondonGypsy (M, 8,886 w., 1 Ch. || Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Falling in Love, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining Idiots, Alternating POVs, Domestics, Retirement) – John and Sherlock falling in love.

You fit me, Sherlock Holmes by orphan_account (G, 10,077 w., 1 Ch. || It’s An Experiment, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Questionable Science) – An unfortunate series of events leads to John accepting being a part of Sherlock's study in physical intimacy. As the days pass by, John realizes he might be in for more than he bargained for. He doesn't entirely mind.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w., 8 Ch. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bed Sharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

The Slow Burn by CaitlinFairchild (E, 12,097 w., 4 Ch. || Romance, Emotional Infidelity, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Fix-It) – John smiles, something small and private and for him alone, and Sherlock just...he knows. With a heart-stopping certainty, Sherlock suddenly knows. It feels like falling off the edge of a cliff. It feels like falling off the edge of the world. It feels like flying.

holding steady by darcylindbergh (E, 12,724 w., 4 Ch. || Post S4, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Growing Old, Gone Fishing, Mood without Plot, Soft Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, POV John Third Person, Anxious Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Touching, Feeling Old, Sherlock Worship, Crying Sherlock, Cuddles, Comforting, Introspection, Retirement, Hand Holding, Forehead Kisses, Caring John, Bed Sharing, Emotional Love Making) – Sitting on a thick wool blanket at the end of a rickety dock side-by-side, legs dangling over the edge, a styrofoam container of wet, dark dirt between them, they’re fishing. John knows what this is about. This is about finally figuring it out.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w., 3 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn't always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

Merlot by Itsallfine (E, 14,844 w., 17 Ch. || Christmas, Pining Sherlock, Wine, Slow Burn, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, Wine, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Part of 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015.

A Hooligans’ Game Played By Gentlemen by scullyseviltwin (E, 15,213 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Rugby as Foreplay, Porn with Lots of Plot, John POV, Ogling, Body Appreciation, Cranky Sherlock, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Cuddling, Touching, Heavy Petting, Blow Job, Botttomlock) – In which John wants to get back in shape, does so, joins a rugby league and has sex with Sherlock Holmes. In that order.

Pleasure to Burn by scullyseviltwin (E, 17,863 w., 1 Ch. || Firefighter AU || Firefighter John / Arson Investigator Sherlock, Slow Burn, Pining, Case Fic-ish) – “If you’d kindly stop knocking about in there and destroying all of my evidence, it would be most appreciated!” John groaned and for a moment rested his head against the side of the truck. Of course he was the only captain left on the scene, which meant he would have to be the one to deal with the arson investigator.

Anytime by SilentAuror (E, 17,995 w., 1 Ch. || UST, Porn With Feels, POV Sherlock, Romance, UST/URT, Happy Ending, Drunken Endeavours) – Sherlock blinks and attempts to focus. There is a little too much vodka in his veins at the moment and it’s having an unfortunate effect on his brain and retinas both. There are two Johns sitting across from him, and both of them are frowning at him. “You’re drunk,” the Johns tell him. Sherlock blinks some more. “Says the man with Mrs Hudson’s doily on his head.”

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier. 

The White Lotuses by SilentAuror (E, 20,340 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Burn, Domestic, Romance) – One day John realises that he just isn't where he belongs, which is back at Baker Street with Sherlock. So he goes back and Sherlock, in his own way, courts him. Romance.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

Once More, With Feeling by cellard00rs (T, 21,178 w., 7 Ch. || John’s Family, Fake Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Humour) – To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

Tomorrow's Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining, Jealous Sherlock) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w., 4 Ch. || S3 Fix It, Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance, Humour, Masturbation, Love Declarations, Bottomlock, Brief Suicidal Ideations) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

#johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #slow burn fics #under 25k fics #long post #medium burn fics

[snowyfrostshadows]

Gray Lies

Mario encounters Mr. L without his mask.

This both changes everything and absolutely nothing.

---

One final blast from Boomer and the (quite frankly) terrifying robotic head crashed and crumbled in on itself on top of the flat, empty landscape that the Sammer Kingdom once rested on.

Mario couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him at the sight.

Mr. L was a tough opponent, more so with mechanical aid, but without his L-Bot and the beating he'd taken earlier, Mario felt it was safe to say this fight was over.

"WHY CAN'T I BEAT YOU?!"

An angry voice howled from the wreckage as metal pieces began to move and shift from where Count Bleck's most annoying minion was attempting to free himself.

Another sigh escaped him at the sight. This time, one born of pity instead of relief.

As annoying and egotistical this guy was (seriously, he put Bowser's obnoxiousness to shame), Mario could not find it himself to refuse help to anyone. Even his enemies.

So, picking his path carefully through the pile of scrap metal, Mario made his way to where the cursing was coming from the loudest. (He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn a couple of the words were in Italian. But that was impossible...)

Pushing past the tinge of unease that crept up on him whenever he thought about or interacted with the Green Pain-in-the-Ass too long, Mario lightly tapped on the biggest piece of metal on where he thought might be where Mr. L was pinned.

The sudden pause in the angry rant over what would happen once free confirmed his suspicions of the other man's location.

"If you a back up a little, if you a can, I think I can-a get you out."

"Why? You think just because you help me, I'll give you that hunk of rock?"

Mario shrugged, forgetting for the moment Mr. L couldn't see it.

"That would be a nice but no. This may a be hard for you to understand, but there doesn't have to be a reason to help someone out."

"...well that's stupid."

"Do you want out of there or not?"

"Ugh. Fine! Sure! Be a big stupid hero! I'm only saying yes because you owe me one Red."

Ignoring for a moment what on earth Mr. L meant by him 'owing him' Mario set to work moving the metal piece enough to make an opening for the slimmer man to get through.

"He's out!" Came Tippi's cheerful voice, allowing Mario to let the heavy sheet of metal to fall back into place.

Not wanting the pixel to be alone with Mr. L for too long, Mario made his way back down to a less metal-filled space.

"Oh. That looks painful. Are you okay?"

"Tch. This? Tis just a flesh wound."

Mario felt himself freeze before forcing himself to move again.

He was just. Imagining it. Hearing things.

Plenty of people probably said that. Hell, this was a magical world. It was probably a common phrase.

But the inflection...

Swallowing, Mario moved closer to Mr. L and tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

Mr. L turned, sneer on his face as he glared down at him. "What? I thought you said you didn't want the stupid rock."

Whatever Mario was going to say, had planned to say, died on tongue.

Mr. L. Wasn't wearing his mask.

Mario didn't know where it was but he didn't care.

For the first time, he could see the other man's face clearly and he couldn't believe how stupid he'd been.

Sure, he wasn't always the smartest guy around, but it shouldn't have taken him a lack of fabric to notice that Mr. L was. That Mr. L was...

"Luigi." He breathed and Mr. L's-his brother's, god, how had he not noticed, eyes widened.

"The name's Mr. L not-"

Mario didn't (couldn't) let him finish as he practically threw himself at his brother, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! I should've a known-! But I-I thought you were dead or. Or missing and that I h-had to save you!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pushed him away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Luigi yelled at him, eyes wide. "Did L-Bot actually land a solid hit on you?"

His face twitched like he wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or horrified at that.

Mario frowned, feeling like he was missing something important but for the life of him, he couldn't put his finger on it.

"No! I'mma fine! Your robot...wait. Did you build that? I didn’ know you were that good at mechanics! Nevermind, not the point, I know. I'm just. So happy you're okay!"

Luigi was staring at him like he didn't know what he was looking at.

"Luigi?"

His brother scowled, annoyance practically rolling off him in waves as he began patting his jumpsuit down looking for something.

"Don't call me that." He snarled at him. Mario couldn't help it. He flinched. Not once, in his entire life had he heard his brother snarl at someone.

Mutter stuff under his breath, yes. But nothing aggressive or or harder than the rare ill-thought comment.

"...Luigi?" He repeated, softer, not sure if his brother would even hear him. But, judging by the gritting of his teeth, he had.

"I told you." He growled as he stomped closer to him, something gripped tightly in his hand. "The name is Mr. L."

Before he could ask (or demand really) why his brother was so hung up on that, Luigi had grabbed his chin hard in one hand and roughly moved his head while shining a bright light in his eyes.

Mario pushed him away.

"Luigi what the hell?!"

"Oh I'm sorry for checking if the supposed Hero of the Light Prognostics has a concussion or not!"

"I don't have a concussion! Your stupid robot barely hit me!"

"Oh really? Then WHY in Count Bleck's name are you spouting nonsense?! If this is some sort of trick to finish me off, or or take the busted up, useless Pure Heart, it's really fucking weird!"

"It's not nonsense! You're Luigi, my brother! And I'mma so so sorry I didn't a realize sooner. I promise, I'm not going to leave you behind again."

Luigi's face fell, his expression one of disbelief and...fear?

Slowly, he began backing away as an almost uneasy grin was plastered onto his face.

"Brother. That's. A-ha. That's a good one. A lil too desperate for a my tastes. What? Didja get a tired of almost losing to me thata much you had to to make up some dumb story to 'tempt me back from the dark side'?" Luigi attempted to do air quotes at that before wincing slightly. "Well it's not going to work! I'm Count Bleck's most promising minion! I would never turn my back on him and his plans with the void!"

Oh.

That's what he'd been missing.

If Luigi was Mr. L (he was, he'd know him anywhere, should have known him the moment he first saw him) then. Then Luigi had joined Count Bleck.

Who was trying to destroy all words.

Luigi was trying to destroy all worlds.

He felt cold. Hollow.

Faintly, he wondered if this was how the former inhabitants of this world had felt right before the Dark Void had swallowed them up.

...maybe he'd been swallowed up as well.

That'd make more sense than Luigi turning his back on everything they'd ever believed or fought for and gleefully watching the very destruction of well, everything.

"Mario? Are you okay?" came Tippi's gentle voice beside him.

He wanted so badly to say yes. That of course he was fine. He was a Hero; he always bounced back from anything life threw at him.

But he couldn't get the words out. He could only stare at his brother and wonder what had happened. Was this. Was this his fault? Was he actually a bad older brother? Why else would Luigi do all this if he hadn't done something to push him this way?

Luigi, for his part had stopped moving back and was watching him in turn as well.

The anger and disbelief that had twisted his face into an unrecognizable mask had softened into something that could be considered concern.

It was still too hard and stiff for it to be one hundred percent familiar, but a lifetime of knowing each other meant he could still read his brother like the back of his hand. Even if...even if they were more like strangers than brothers now...

"Are you...having a stroke? Not that I care or anything. I just want to know if it'd be kinder to take you out now than let you drag out what's left of your sad existence this pitifully."

A wet, almost choked sounding laugh escaped him.

He didn't mean to laugh, there was nothing funny about Luigi threatening to kill him out of 'kindness' but what else was he supposed to do?

This whole adventure had taken such a dark turn. He didn't think anything could top the horror and failure he'd felt seeing what had become of the Sammer Kingdom but this. This 'reunion', if he could even call it that, with Luigi sure came close.

"Oh, aside from skipping ahead a few pages of the script, our oh so noble and brave Hero in Red is just fine."

Both brothers turned away from each other to look at the source of the obnoxious voice.

Mario felt his stomach drop as he took in the ever-grinning jester. Great. Just what he needed on top of his already crummy day.

(That guy.)

"Ugh. What do you want Dimentio?"

Dimentio tilted his head slightly as he took in the scene, gaze lingering on Luigi in a way that made Mario's skin crawl.

"Oh, I was just stopping by to cut free an annoying string off my dear Count's coattails. But lucky for me, it looks like I can take care of two loose threads in one swift blow. "

Luigi scowled. "Then get going. I'm already dealing with something here. Go bother someone else."

Dimentio leaned closer to his brother, a dark glint peeking through one of the slits in his mask.

"Tell me, Mr. L, is this level of obtusity thanks to Nastasia's hard work or have you always been dumber than your brother?"

Luigi stumbled back. "What? He's not my brother!"

"Says the man with no memory." Dimentio sighed as he floated back and away from Luigi. "Seems you really are just that stupid. Pity."

Dimentio probably hadn't intended for his words to affect one of the brothers positively, but Mario couldn't help feeling like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of him.

Luigi didn't know what he was doing. Not really.

His brother must have hit his head or something and had had the bad luck to be taken in by Bleck and tricked to be somebody he wasn't.

This could all be fixed!

But first, he had to hold back on his feelings of elation and relief and watch Dimentio for the moment he was distracted enough to grab his brother and leave.

"I'm not stupid!" Luigi snapped. "I built a robot! Two of them! He-" Luigi jabbed a finger angrily in Mario's direction "Can't tell a camshaft from a crankshaft and don't even get me STARTED on the time he tried to 'fix' the vacuum and ended up coating the whole room in dust!"

Dimentio placed a hand under his chin. "My my my. What some very specific examples of a man you don't know."

Luigi's hand dropped as he stood frozen, confusion coloring his face. "I don't...how?"

Dimentio tutted in mock sympathy. "L. L. L. L. L. It's not your fault Nastasia pulled out all the stops for you. Don't ask me why as you're about as important as stray lint on a coat, but I guess even the strongest hypnosis fades after a while, no matter how weak and pathetic the subject is."

"I'm. I'm not-. I'm Count Bleck's most promising minion! I-I always have been loy-"

"Since you first woke up." Dimentio interrupted coldly. "And what 'loyal servant' thinks they can just ignore a direct order from their master? Face it L, you're on the fast track to betraying Count Bleck. I think it's better for everyone if you never show you face around anyone again. Lucky for you, I'm here to do just that."

Dimentio's ever-present grin seemed to widen as he raised a hand slowly into the air, fingers pressed in a familiar gesture from the last time Mario had the misfortune to fight him.

It didn't take a genius to guess what the stupid clown was going to do.

And while Mario had no doubt that his brother would normally be able to dodge the incoming attack or even hold his own even as a twisted, jerk version of himself, right now, after Dimentio's taunts and ripping him apart, Luigi looked...lost. He wasn't even sure if his brother was even aware of what was happening around him anymore.

Fortunately for him though, he wasn't facing Dimentio alone.

Mouth a tight line, Mario summoned a Bomb Blast from Boomer and chucked it straight at Dimentio's stupid, fat head before diving for his brother, grabbing his arm and flipping the two of them between dimensions.

A small, petty, spiteful part of himself took dark satisfaction at hearing Dimentio's howl of pain and shock at having a bomb go off in his face before the sound abruptly cut off as he and Luigi entered a more three dimensional (but still empty) world. He couldn't even pull up an ounce of guilt for the dirty trick.

Dimentio had threatened his brother. He should consider himself lucky a cheap shot was all Mario had time for at the moment.

As it stood, they needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Preferably back to the others and then everything could be one step closer to being normal again.

Speaking of...

Mario glanced down at his brother as he pulled him to his feet and began dragging him towards where he thought the portal back to Flipside might be back in the normal dimension.

"Where's. Where's Dimentio?"

"Busy."

Luigi frowned before noticing that Mario had his arm in a vice grip.

"Let go of me!"

"No."

"If you think I'm just going to let you take me prisoner-!"

Mario came to a sharp stop, accidentally forcing his brother to stumble to do the same.

"I'mma not taking you prisoner. I'mma taking you back with me. Like I promised."

Luigi stared at him for a moment before scowling as he tried to rip Mario's hand off his arm with his free hand.

"What makes you think I want to go back with you?! We're not-" Luigi's mouth twisted like he wasn't sure what he wanted to end that sentence with before settling on a growl. "Let me go!"

Mario glared right back at him. "Oh sure. So you can a what? Stand around and let Dimentio kill you?" He snapped.

"He wasn't going to kill m-"

"Yes! He was! If I hadn't stopped him-" "YOU WHAT?!" "And grabbed you-" "OH MY GOD!" "You'd be DEAD!"

Luigi stared at him wide-eyed. "... they're going to think I'm a traitor." He rasped.

“Were you not listening? It sounded like they already did! Why else would Dimen-"

"L-Like I ever believe anything that clown ever says!" Luigi laughed but even with how out of sync they were, Mario could still tell it was forced.

"I-I mean. W-Why would Count Bleck have me hypnotized to follow him? I always would have been his loyal minion without question! He's so great and clever and and-"

Mario tightened his grip slightly as his brother trailed off, desperately trying to find other attributes he admired enough to follow someone cruel enough to destroy all life across all worlds.

"No," he said quietly, "No, you wouldn't."

Luigi frowned at that, but whatever thoughts or feelings he had to Mario's comment he kept frustratingly to himself.

Although...maybe...the fact he wasn't arguing it outright...meant that he was coming around to the truth and not sticking with whatever lies Bleck had filled his head with.

Reassured by that thought, Mario started moving again pulling his brother close behind.

"...if you let go I...promise I won't...run away or anything else you think I might do."

Mario paused and looked at his brother curiously. "...promise?"

Luigi looked torn between annoyance and glowering "Dio. Yes. Do you want it in writing?"

"No! I trust you, Luigi."

His brother's mouth twisted like he'd bitten into something sour at that and Mario couldn't help feeling a small pang at the reaction.

But, a promise was a promise and he did trust Luigi. Mostly. 'Mr. L' was a lil different but he was still Luigi deep down so it still counted. Probably.

Curiously, after letting go, Luigi didn't move away or try to start up another fight. He just stood there for a moment, flexing his fingers a little before sighing and removing a bit of fabric wrapped around the arm Mario had been gripping.

To his confusion, the bit of fabric almost looked damp. But, that was impossible. There had been nothing in the empty landscape of the void that could have made anything wet and he himself had barely touched Luigi during the fight let alone with anything that could have caused a damp spot.

And then his eyes trailed away from the fabric scrap to the area it had previously covered and he nearly had a heart attack.

Luigi's arm was alarmingly bloody. Not as bad as it had presumably been to warrant a makeshift bandage in the first place but still enough that he wanted to shake him for taking the thing off.

What the hell was he thinking?!

"Put that back on!"

Luigi flinched slightly at the shout before glaring at him.

"Sure. Lemme do that right after I wring the blood out of it."

Then, probably just to annoy him personally, Luigi balled up the disgusting mess of fabric and shoved it into a pants pocket.

"LUIGI!" Mario shouted, scandalized.

Other than rolling his eyes, Luigi ignored him and began taking off his scarf with one hand.

"Wait. What are you a doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm changing the wrapping."

Mario sighed and moved closer. "And you couldn't have waited till we got back to the others why?"

Luigi blinked like that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Maybe it hadn't.

"...I. wanted something drier?" He scowled. "Why do you even care? It'll only be a couple minutes."

"We're brothers." Mario couldn't help wondering how many times he'd have to say something that should be so obvious before it finally sunk into Luigi's head. "Of course I care."

He reached for the scarf, trying not to let the suspicious look his brother was shooting him bother him. "Let me. Two hands are better than one."

"...fine."

"Grazie."

Scarf now in hand, Mario took a closer look at the wound. It. Wasn't as bad as he'd first thought. Yes, there was blood and Luigi might need a couple stitches, but, for the most part, it looked like keeping it wrapped was still the best option at the moment.

"What happened anyway?"

Luigi snorted. "You destroyed L-Bot, remember?"

A cold feeling started to spread through him.

"And...me doing that. Caused this?"

"In a roundabout way, I guess. I bumped into a loose piece trying to get out but eh. That's what I get for not beating you."

Mario paused what he was doing, afraid that his hands might be shaking too much to wrap the scarf tight enough that it'd do any good and looked at his brother.

"Luigi. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean-"

Luigi recoiled slightly. "I KNOW! Geeze, relax. God. Are you always this weepy? Don't answer that." He ran his free hand through his hair, disrupting his hat a little. "If it makes you feel better, I don't. Hold it against you. Not because I remember anything, but because you got me out of the pile of scrap metal faster than I'd have by myself. So. We're square or whatever."

"But-"

Luigi heaved a heavy sigh as he dragged his hand down his face.

"So. Brothers. Am I right in saying that not only am I the more handsome and dashing between the two of us, but also older?"

Mario could feel his mouth twitch slightly towards a smile. He was still upset over having indirectly being the reason his brother was hurt but, it was comforting to see some of the old, familiar Luigi shine through. He couldn't count the number of times his brother had abruptly changed the subject to something completely different if he saw him spiraling or getting stuck on a detail or two.

He hadn't done it as much as he had since they'd fallen into the Mushroom Kingdom, but it was still nice to see the habit was still there despite the memory loss.

Turning back to his earlier task, Mario was relieved to see his hands were no longer shaking.

"Technically, I'm older by about fifteen minutes or so. We're twins."

"...coulda fooled me."

Mario bit back a snort. "Well someone decided to shoot up like a giraffe in eighth grade and throw off the whole identical theme we had going."

"Not my fault you didn't get the memo." Luigi muttered low enough under his breath Mario doubted he'd have heard him if hadn't been as close as he was. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Luigi himself was aware of what he’d just said.

But the fact that he’d thrown back a familiar line in an old argument, unconsciously or not, was enough to buoy Mario’s mood back to it’s usual good cheer. All this was temporary, and the sooner they got back to the others, the quicker the rest of Luigi’s normal self would come back and this whole working-for-Bleck thing could be forgotten about.  

Smiling more widely now, Mario tied the end of the scarf firmly enough that it wouldn't fall off but not so tight that it would make the wound any worse.

"There we go!"

"Great." Luigi frowned slightly before looking away. "So. How much longer till we get to wherever it is you're taking me?"

It was Mario's turn to frown. "I'm not sure."

Luigi spun back around, eyes wide. "What?! Are you telling me you've just been dragging me around without any idea of where you're going?! What is wrong with you?!"

Mario shrugged, only half listening to his brother and did some thinking.

They'd been in this dimension for awhile now, most of it at a quick pace so...maybe they were close enough to the door back to Flipside by now? It couldn't hurt to check.

Taking a couple (quick) steps back from Luigi so he wouldn't accidentally get pulled with him, Mario flipped back to the flatter, second dimension.

Unsurprisingly, it was still empty of all life, with just the occasional rare broken remnant of the vibrant world that had once been here.

The only silver lining that Mario could think of was that Dimentio wasn’t waiting for him to land a retaliation blow from his earlier attack before escaping with Luigi nor could he really be seen anywhere.

Meaning he could safely take his brother out of the more detailed dimension without fear of Dimentio targeting him or worse, persuading Luigi to start fighting him again.

Plus, he was about seventy percent sure he knew where they were in relation to the door so it wouldn't be much longer of a walk.

Satisfied with his little reconnaissance, Mario flipped back to where he’d left his brother, accidentally startling him.

“Sorry.”

Luigi shot him a dark look.

“For startling you just now.”

“Is that it?” Luigi asked icily. Mario couldn’t help staring at him curiously, unsure on what else he could have possibly done to upset his brother.

“You. Left.”

Mario blinked, still lost at what Luigi was trying to get at. “Yes?”

“Dio aiutami.” Luigi muttered. “How does a literal child have more sense than you do?” He took a deep breath and fixed a hard look at Mario. “You left. Without warning. Leaving me stuck someplace literally no one else can access!”

“I was a gonna come back!”

“How would I know that?! I don’t know you!”

Mario felt like he’d been slapped. “You’re my brother. Mia famiglia. I’d always come back for you.”

Luigi snorted and crossed his arms. “Right. Just like you did before Count Bleck did. Oh, wait. You didn’t.”

Mario couldn't stop himself from flinching at that. “That’s not fair. I wasn’t there. If I was, I’d have a never lost you.” You wouldn’t be like this he doesn’t add.

Luigi narrows his eyes, as if guessing what he was thinking and scowled. “Sounds like a you problem.”

“Weegee-”

“Don’t call me that! My name is Mr. L!”

"I'M NOT CALLING YOU THAT!" Mario roared back before slapping his hand over his mouth and turning away from Luigi, frustrated with himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

He couldn't get mad at him. Stars knew what he'd been through to end up acting like a. Like a testa di cazzo. And while, a small part of him could acknowledge that he probably should be calling him 'Mr. L' like he wanted, a bigger, stubborn, more selfish part of him refused to.

It felt wrong to throw something as big as a title between them.

They'd known each other their whole lives, were closer to each other than anyone else in the whole world.

To be that formal with each other...with Luigi...was wrong.

Slowly, he pulled his hand off his face and sighed. Maybe...he was being unfair. He couldn't call him the name Bleck had given him, but maybe. They could come to a compromise?

But what on earth could he call hi- “...Mario?”

Mario froze before slowly turning back around to face Lui-Mr.-his tw-the stranger wearing his brother’s face and almost cried.

The nervous unsurety was so familiar it hurt. If he wasn’t still holding himself back, wasn’t still looking at him with the barest hint of mistrust, like he didn’t know him, then there was no doubt in Mario’s mind that he’d be by his brother’s side to offer comfort and trying to boost his confidence back up right this very second.

But that wasn’t his brother.

Not really and maybe he’d never be again.

“What.” he said tiredly, completely and utterly drained from this whole mess of an adventure.

The other man bit his bottom lip, uncertainty in his eyes. “You don’t. Lose it. Like that.”

Mario blinked. “What.” he repeated dumbly.

Mr. L frowned and rolled his eyes, some of his earlier annoying bluster coming back. “Lose it. The whole.” he waved a hand “Snapping you just did. Not even when Ashbreath kidnaps Miss Pretty in Pink.” a small snort escaped him. “Don’t know why, if anyone deserves a good scolding it’s him…” Mr. L frowned again and eyed him curiously. “But you don’t. Ever. You’re always...chipper. It’s annoying. So. That. Outburst just now. That’s not you.”

Mario’s mouth felt dry as he stared at Lu-his brother. “I thought. You didn’t know me.”

His brother grimaced and looked away. “I don’t. Not really. I just know you don’t lose your temper like that. I mean really. My name? Would it be so hard for you to call me Mr. L?”

“Yes.”

His brother looks back at him again and Mario isn’t sure, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear something crumples in his expression before it’s gone as he throws his head back and groans.

“Fine. You win. Bambino drammatatico. You can call me Luigi.” Luigi’s mouth twists like he’s still not sure of his own name. “But if you even attempt to call me ‘Weegee’ again, I’ll give you a beating that’ll make your last fight with the world’s dumbest, ugliest turtle look like a picnic.”

“Thank you, Luigi. That. That a means a lot.”

“Ugh. Don’t mention it. Ever.”

Mario can’t help a small smile. He was being stupid earlier. Luigi would always be his brother, no matter what happened. And, this whole ‘Mr. L’ thing was bound to go away eventually, right?

He just had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

“I think I know where we are by the way.”

Luigi raised a brow. “You think?”

Mario shrugged. “As much as can in this world. I’m pretty sure the door back to Flipside is close by.”

He moved closer and hesitantly placed a hand on Luigi’s arm. “Ready?”

“I guess so. Don’t know why you’re so nervous. Everything’s dead. Teleport us over or whatever it is you do.”

Mario bit his tongue and quietly flipped the two of them back to the regular, flat dimension they were more used to.

It was still empty.

Void of all life and color.

A reminder of his failure and what lay in wait for the rest of the connecting worlds if he couldn’t stop Bleck and his terrifying all-consuming void.

Tightening his grip on his brother’s arm, Mario trudged ahead. Judging by Luigi’s callous tone right before they’d flipped from one dimension to the next, he didn’t want to look back and see what sort of expression he was wearing.

If it was some sort of sick glee or or pride on his brother’s face at seeing a once vibrant world gone, then there was a very good chance he’d go down another depressive spiral and he doubted Luigi would bother pulling him out of it again.

Better to just keep going. Find the door. Get out and hope once his brother was around normal people again, their friends, then he’d be able to drop the whole Mr. L mindset faster.

Thankfully, the walk back to the door that would take them back to Flipside Tower ended up not being as long as he’d first thought it’d be. The deep, rich blue was a welcome sight after seeing nothing but white for so long.

“Huh.” Luigi muttered as he pulled his arm out of Mario’s grip and moved closer to the door and placed a hand against it. “Not bad. Not as nice as the ones back at the castle of course, but the craftsmanship is nice. No wonder it survived the void.”

Mario stared at him. “What?”

Luigi looked at him like he was an idiot. “The energy coming off this thing. Can’t you feel it? It’s.” Luigi frowned and waved his hands. “Y’know?”

Mario looked back at the door. He didn’t feel anything. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t giving off any energy. Maybe it was electrical? Luigi told him once, after getting his Thunder Hand, that he sometimes felt the power running through their house or when or where lighting was going to strike during a storm. Kind of like how Mario found himself more aware of sources of heat or fire sometimes.

So it was probably that. But he had a feeling trying to explain all that would just give them both a headache so he just shrugged.

“Maybe. But it’s y’know. A portal in the shape of a door? I wouldn’ be surprised if it wasn’t giving something off.”

Luigi frowned and looked at the door again. “Maybe…”

Placing his own hand against the door, Mario pushed forward, relieved to find it still open and lead back to the Tower. They were so close.

“Come on.”

Luigi quietly followed behind him and already, Mario could feel some of the tension he’d been carrying since coming back to the Sammer Kingdom leave him as he walked down the hallway full of doors.

Yes, the swirling, glowing vortex of purple just out of the corner of his eye served as a reminder of how little time they had left to stop Bleck was. BUT he had his brother back, possibly another Pure Heart depending on how well he was able to persuade Luigi to give it back, and Merlon was sure to be able to point him in the direction of the final Heart and help his brother shake off Bleck’s influence fully. And then all of this nightmare of an adventure could be one step closer to being done and behind him forever.

Belatedly, about halfway down the hall, Mario realized he didn’t hear Luigi following right behind him anymore.

Turning, Mario was surprised to see his brother had stopped at some point and was just staring at the swirling vortex looming over them.

“Luigi?”

His brother didn’t respond.

Concerned, Mario backtracked till he was at Luigi’s side and lightly shook him. “Bro?”

Luigi jumped slightly before looking down at him and scowled. “What?”

“You were just. Standing here. Are you okay?”

Luigi blinked before shooting a quick look at the void and frowned. “Yeah. Peachy.” His frown deepened slightly. “I guess I just...got caught up looking at the vortex up there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

Mario nodded. “Got it. It. Is a pretty scary isn’t it? Looming over everything, getting bigger…” He gave his brother a light pat and one of his brighter smiles. “But we’ll stop it before it destroys any more worlds!”

“...Sure you will.” Luigi replied flatly before suddenly pushing past him. “That the thing that’ll get us a outta here?”

Mario stumbled a little as he quickly reoriented himself to find Luigi gesturing towards the white elevator box at the end of the hallway.

“Yes. Is som-”

“Wonderful. Pick up the pace Shorty. You’re on a time crunch remember?”

Mario watched in slight confusion as Luigi nearly ran towards the elevator. That was...weird. He looked up at the swirling void near the tower and frowned. Did. Seeing the mechanism of Count Bleck’s form of destruction instill some form of guilt in his brother?

“Oh my god! Why are you so slow?! Do you have a date or something with that thing!?”

Mario sighed. Whatever Luigi’s reasoning, it wasn’t important right now. What was, was catching up to his brother before he decided to ditch him. And having to try to finding him again.

With a light jog, Mario quickly caught up to his brother.

“Finally.” Luigi muttered, glaring at the elevator’s doors and stubbornly refusing to look at him. “Any longer and I’d have to apologize to that oversized reptile for thinking he was the slowest thing on the planet.”

“You seem to be in a rush.” Mario started cautiously; half-hoping his brother would say he regretted his current/past actions.

“Yeah well, the view here sucks.” Luigi snarled as he slammed a finger on the elevator button. Distantly, Mario wondered how many times his brother had pressed it before he’d gotten there.

Almost a second later, there was a light ping and the doors had barely started opening before his brother marched into the box.

“Luigi-” Mario started as he followed after him. “The vacuum thing. Did that really happen?” Luigi suddenly interrupted, throwing him completely for a loop. “What?” he asked weakly.

“You trying to fix a vacuum. Was that real?”

Mario blinked and couldn’t help staring at Luigi dumbly. It. Took him a couple of seconds to realize what exactly he was talking about. That part of the exchange with Dimentio felt like it had happened ages ago.

He wasn’t sure why Luigi was bringing it back up again out of the blue like this, but it all honesty, he didn’t mind answering. Maybe this meant his brother was willing to try to remember who he was supposed to be without anymore fights first.

“Yes. That’s real.”

“Why would you do that? You suck at fixing stuff.”

Mario rubbed the back of his neck and looked away in slight embarrassment.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You’d been so busy that week with a bunch of projects for other people that you’d let...some of our own stuff fall to the background. And you a kept complaining about not havin’ any a time to fix the vacuum that I thought...maybe I could a do it. One less a thing for you to a worry about.”

Luigi leaned back and tipped his head against the wall. “Huh. Y’know, you coulda of just got me a toolbox. Woulda of saved on the cleaning bill I bet.”

Mario couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at that. “You said that last time too.”

An amused smirk crossed Luigi’s face. “Well that just means I’m always right, doesn’t it?”

Another laugh escaped him at that. “Most of the time. Maybe. I can think of a few times you were wrong.”

Luigi’s smirk turned into an achingly familiar teasing grin. “I dunno. I don’t think those times count if I don’t remember them.”

“I think they do. I’ve got a few people who could back me up on you being dumb.”

Luigi snorts as the doors ping, announcing they’ve arrived at the bottom of the tower. “Whatever you say Red; I still don’t think it counts.”

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Luigi quickly stepped out of the elevator and onto the main street of Flipside. Rolling his eyes, Mario followed after him.

“Would it a kill you to wait two seconds?”

Luigi shrugged as he scanned the street. “Where to now?”

“Not too far, Merlon’s house is right next door.”

Pausing only long enough to make sure Luigi was following him, Mario led the way. As towns he’d visited went, Flipside was nice. Cobblestone paths, old style homes and buildings. It had a nice, cozy, almost industrial feel to it.

He couldn’t help wonder what Luigi would have thought of Flipside if he was in his right mind.

“Yeesh. Is that the guy’s house? It looks like a rainbow threw up on it but missed a few colors.”

Mario sighed.

It’d probably be the exact opposite of that.

“Luigi, please don’t insult Merlon.”

“The man is insulting himself if he thinks any of that works. I mean. There’s like fifty stars on the front of the house alone. Talk about tacky.”

“Luigi.”

Luigi groaned. “Fine. I won’t insult your dumb best friend forever over his clearly questionable design choices.”

“Grazie.”

Taking a deep breath, Mario opened the door, just barely resisting the urge to drag his brother behind him as they entered.

Just a little while longer. Just a little while longer and then Luigi could be himself again.

“Oh ho! Our Hero has returned! Tell me, do you have the-” Marlon paused as he caught sight of Luigi behind him. “Who’s that?”

Mario gave the wizard a wide grin. “This is my brother, L-”

“Luigi?!”

Peach gasped as she entered the room behind Marlon. “You’re okay!”

Before Mario could warn her, or say anything really, she had closed the distance between them to throw her arms around his brother. “I was so worried for you after that dumb wedding fell apart with everyone running all over the place. Are you okay? Where were you?”

Mario couldn’t help wincing as Luigi pushed her off of him and took a couple steps back. “I don’t know what it’s like in your kingdom, Princess, but buy a guy dinner first before you throw yourself at him.” He threw her a smarmy look that made Mario want to die just looking at it. “I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but get a hold of yourself.”

Peach’s jaw dropped as she looked between the two brothers before settling on Mario. “...Are you sure this is your brother?”

Mario barely had a chance to open his mouth before a familiar roar shook the house.

“What is that Mr. L PUNK doing here?! Get away from my wife!”

Luigi’s face split into a wide smile. “Finally someone knows who I am! You’re not as dumb as you look, Spikes for Brains!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!”

“Spikes for Brains! Or is that too hard for your dumb little lizard brain to wrap itself around?”

Luigi jumped away from Mario’s outstretched hand, eyes still locked on Bowser. “And to answer your questions…” His smile turned sharp, making Mario fear what would come out of his brother’s mouth next. This time, instead of trying to grab him, he aimed for a tackle; half-hoping an impact with the floor would knock whatever was driving him to insult a giant fire-breathing turtle right back out of him.

Unfortunately, Luigi somehow saw that coming as well and dodged at the last second with a stupid spin that left Mario flat on the floor and him right in front of Bowser’s furious face.

“I thought Mario could have an arch rival that he wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen hanging around with.” Luigi’s eyes flicked down to Bowser’s claws before darting back up to his face. “I don’t see any rings. Marriage problems, roba calda?”

Bowser let out a low growl that usually meant he was about two seconds from setting something or someone on fire when Mario grabbed Luigi from the back of his shirt and pulled him out of Bowser’s face.

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You?!?” he hissed as he dragged him back towards the door. “When I asked you not to insult Merlon, I didn’t a mean you could insult everyone else in the house!”

Luigi shrugged. “You should have been more specific. Besides, he started it.”

Mario dragged his free hand down his face and took a deep breath.  

Of all the things Count Bleck had done to his brother’s personality, was making him act like a literal five-year-old really necessary?

“Well I’m ending it. Just. Wait here for a moment while I catch everyone else up. Try not to start any more fights.”

Luigi just rolled his eyes before leaning against the door and gave him a flat look. “I won’t if he won’t.”

Mario sighed. Good enough he supposed.

Turning, he clapped his hands and headed back to the others, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as he felt.

“So. As I was saying, I found my brother Luigi. He’s uh. Having some a memory problems…”

Peach frowned slightly. “Mario...issues with memory don’t erm. Change someone’s personality that...um, that is to say…”

“He may also have a been hypnotized.” Mario interrupted quickly before turning to look at Merlon. “But you can undo that, can’t you?”

“UGH! I shouda known you just brought me here to mess with my head too. Bet you had a big ol’ laugh with Dimentio about it too. L-ater Losers.”

Mario barely had time to feel his heart leap up his throat at the threat of losing Luigi again when his brother gave a startled yelp from Bowser picking him up from the back of his shirt.

He didn’t know what the Koopa King was doing next to his brother or even when he’d made his way to the door without him noticing, but Mario was grateful for the big lug regardless.

“You seriously want me to believe this mouthy, rude, disrespectful minion of Bleck’s is Green ‘Stache? This guy?”

Luigi made to swing an arm at Bowser before wincing. “I’ll show you ‘rude’ if you don’t let me go right this instant you you walking bowl of turtle soup!”

Bowser raised an eyebrow before shooting Mario an unimpressed look. “Yeah, I don’t buy it. How’d you get duped this badl-?”

Bowser paused at a light touch from Peach.

“Are you hurt, Lu-Mr. L?”

Luigi paused in his attempts to get Bowser to free him to shoot Peach a suspicious glare. “You a empath or something?”

“No, I just saw you wince just now...and if I’m not mistaken, that’s your scarf wrapped around your arm, correct?”

“...Yeah so? It’s already taken care of.”

Peach clasped her hands and gave Luigi a soft smile. “Well, I can be a pretty good healer. If you want, I can take a look at your arm and do my best to fix you up.”

Luigi frowned for a moment before shooting her a cocky grin. “Well if you insist.”

“Always.” Peach glanced back up at Bowser and gave him one of her sweeter smiles. “If you could let him down?”

Bowser snorted. “Why? I don’t think he deserves to waste any of your ti-” Bowser froze as Peach trailed her hand over one of his. “Please? It’d mean ever so much to me.”

Bowser blinked before looking away before his blush could get to big. “F-Fine. But I’m going to supervise! No way I’m going to let you be alone with this scoundrel! Who knows what he’d do!”

“Of course. Thank you Bowser.”

As Mario moved to follow the three of them to a quieter place in the study, he was stopped by Merlon.

“Mario, if I may speak to you for a moment?”

“Of a course! We didn’ finish our conversation before all of...that.” Mario waved a hand semi-nervously before pushing on. “I a swear, he’s not a normally like that. So if you can help me undo whatever Bleck did to him-”

Merlon placed a hand on Mario’s moving one. “My dear boy; I am afraid there’s nothing I could do, even if I wanted to. Magics of the Mind are a delicate, tricky thing even for the masters of that craft, which I am not. If I were to even attempt what you are asking of me, I fear I would only make things worse.”

Mario’s heart sank. “What. What about the other Sages? Maybe one of them-?”

Merlon shook his head sadly. “I am afraid not. None of us ever desired to study that particular path.”

“Then...is he. Gonna be like this...forever?”

“That I cannot say. As I said the mind is a delicate thing. But it is also wondrous. It can recall the most smallest of details at any given time while continuously capable of creating and holding new memories. Your brother may come to himself in time or he may not. But would he still not be your brother?”

Mario ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Of course. Luigi will always be my brother. It just. Wouldn’t be the same…”

Merlon nodded. “I understand. In the meantime however, we must stop Count Bleck if we are to have any hope in the future. If you succeed, as the Light Prognosticus foretells, then I shall do all in my power to help you find someone skilled in the Magics of the Mind.”

Mario took a deep breath and sighed.

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but at least it was a start and yet another thing for him to fight for against Count Bleck. He would just. Have to be patient.

“Grazie, Merlon. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Now, tell me, were you able to find another Pure Heart during your last venture? We need eight of them if we are to save all of reality.”

Mario nodded. “I think Luigi still has it.”

Merlon’s eyes widened slightly. “In that case, let us check in with your brother then.”

Relieved that he could rejoin the others, Mario quickly led the way to where they were gathered; where, the closer he got, the more he could hear their conversation.

“...n’t seem to mind if he calls you Luigi.”

“Yeah well. He gets...mopey.”

“Yeah right. Mario doesn’t get ‘mopey’.”

“Well he did and it was pathetic and…”

“...Mr. L?”

“It doesn’t matter. If calling me...Luigi...makes him….happy, then who cares?”

Mario turned the corner just in time to catch Bowser leer at his brother. “Then can I call you ‘Luigi’ too? Since it makes Mario soooo happy?”

Luigi snorted. “You actually calling me by my name would be a first.”

Peach froze, tugging on the needle she was using to sew up the gash on Luigi’s arm hard enough to make him hiss and glare at her. “What was that for?!”

“You. You just said your name was Luigi.”

Luigi frowned. “No I didn’t. I keep telling you, it’s Mr. L.” He jerked a thumb at Bowser. “At least he gets it.”

Peach pursed her lips but before she could say anything, Mario coughed to let them know he was there as well as send a silent apology to Peach for interrupting her.

While privately, he couldn’t help think the more people who called Luigi by his actual name was a good thing, he needed his brother to be in a good enough mood to hand over the Pure Heart without throwing a fit about it first.

“Hiya bro!”

Luigi narrowed his eyes slightly. “What do you want?”

Merlon stepped forward. “I was told you held the next Pure Heart. May I see it?”

Luigi snorted and rolled his eyes. “That hunk of rock? Sure, be my guest.” Reaching into a pocket, Luigi pulled it out and practically chunked it at them, Mario just barely catching it in time.

“Luigi.”

His brother smirked. “You never said how you wanted the dumb thing. Figured I’d give it to you the fastest way how.”

Mario was about to throw his hat at Luigi’s obnoxious face when a quiet “Oh dear.” beside him gave him pause.

“Merlon? Is a something wrong?”

The old wizard sighed. “I’m afraid so. I do not feel any energy or power emitting from this Pure Heart. I fear, that if you were to put this in a Heart Pillar, it would do nothing.”

Mario felt cold.

“What are you trying to say old man? That that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Bowser nearly shouted.

Marlon shrugged helplessly. “Without all eight Pure Hearts, you cannot stop Count Bleck and his destruction. We have seven and yet...one of them is powerless…”

A sharp bark of laughter interrupted him and all eyes turned to Luigi.

“This isn’t funny!” Bowser growled at him. “Sure it is, you three junior heroes spent all that time running around, trying to stop us and just when you get to the finish line, you trip and fall!” Luigi shot Bowser a cruel look. “I mean in your case, at least, you should be used to this.”

Steam practically erupted from Bowser’s mouth as he glared right back at Luigi. “And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Exactly what it sou-” Mario slapped a hand over his brother’s mouth after darting between the two of them.

“How a bout. We just all take a couple of deep breaths. And a talk a things through.”

He took a deep breath and hoped it didn’t sound as ragged to everyone else at it did to him. “Merlon. There has to a be a something we can do.”

Peach grabbed his free hand and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “Mario’s right. We’ve come so close, lost so much already. We can’t give up.”

“I’m not saying you should give up. It’s just that we are alas, between a rock and a hard place as the saying goes.”

“A ha ha ha. What a sad group of so-called heroes we have here. One broken toy, a missing puzzle piece and they all fall to pieces.”

Mario stiffened. No.

No.

Not here. Not now. Not when he had enough on his plate without adding one more headache to the mix.

“Who’s there?” Merlon called and, almost as if those words summoned him into existence, Dimentio materialized above them, looking as if he had told the world’s funniest joke.

Glaring, Mario took his hands off of Luigi and Peach. “What do you a want?!”

Dimentio pressed a hand against his chest in mock surprise. “Me? I just want to offer my help!”

“The day you help someone is the day I throw away my tools.” Luigi muttered darkly. “What are you really doing?”

“You wound me with your words, L. I am nothing but helpful!”

“Didn’t you try to kill me?!”

Dimentio laughed. “Oh you do remember that! And here I was thinking you’d shut down past the point of no return when I shared with you the truth of your little existence!”

“Get to the point, Dimentio” Luigi snarled with enough venom that even Bowser gave him a second look.

“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my arm. The ‘point’ I’ve come to share with you all is that there is no way in this world to restore the Pure Heart! It’s useless! Forever!”

“HOW IS THAT HELPFUL?!” Bowser roared.

Mario wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Dimentio’s smile widened.

“It’s helpful because it means you are all too disheartened to notice...this.” Dimentio raised his arms and the air rippled.

“YOU BACKSTABBING INSANE TWO FACED COGLIONE!” Luigi howled. “LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX RIGHT NOW SO I CAN RIP THAT STUPID MASK OFF YOUR FACE!”

Dimentio tapped his chin and hummed. “Tempting L, reeeal tempting but I’m afraid I have to decline your offer.”

Luigi gave another screech of rage before the sound of something hitting something solid echoed through the room.

Tentatively, Mario reached forward and found his fingers stop at an invisible wall. This. Wasn’t good.

Worriedly, he looked over at Peach who also had an arm outstretched, fingers stopping at an invisible wall as well.

Looking on the other side of him, he watched as both Luigi and Bowser attempted to break past the invisible barriers with brute force.

Reaching out a hand to try to pull Luigi back before he broke something, Mario was horrified to find another wall between him and his brother. Panicked, he tried to grab Peach’s free hand but discovered there was a barrier between them as well.

They. They were all in separate boxes.

He’d let go of them. And now he couldn’t reach them.

“Since your little quest has ended in vain, I figured I might as well give you all a consolation prize.”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Luigi roared before there was a sudden onslaught of blasts within each of the boxes that felt hotter and more intense than the last until after what felt like an eternity, there was nothing.

.

.

.

When Mario next woke up, he found himself in a grassy, almost jungle like place that was, according to the first person he’d met, the Underwhere. Which was where all souls came when they’d died.

Which meant...he’d failed.

And what was worse, not only did he fail the worlds and his friends, but that they were probably dead too.

And while he had a feeling Dimentio would have killed them anyway, he couldn’t help but wonder if the way the jester had done it was because he’d thrown a bomb at him.

And while he still couldn’t dredge up any regret for his actions (he’d gotten Luigi back. Somewhat. He could never regret that.) He did feel regret that the bomb hadn’t been enough to stop Dimentio completely or more permanently.

But.

He did what he always did. He got up and kept going.

And...maybe things weren’t as bad as that first shade made it out to be.

Queen Jaydes seemed nice; he didn’t mind looking for this Luvbi person for her.

And...and she had mentioned that someone else like him had fallen into the Underwhere. Someone in green.

It was a long shot, but there was only one person Mario knew used that color as a signifier. And and even if he still didn’t have his memory and was more prone to starting a fight than avoiding one, Mario could deal with it!

Because it would mean that Luigi was still okay! That they could work together, hopefully find the others and maybe just maybe make it back to Flipside and figure out how to stop Count Bleck with just six pure hearts; seven if they could find the last one.

It could all work out. He just had to keep hoping; stay positive and everything would turn out fi-

A familiar sounding voice groaned causing Mario to ignore everything in his surroundings and run towards it.

He caught sight of a familiar shade of green hiding behind a rock and it took everything in him to tamp down the hope that bubbled up in him at the sight. It was just the scarf he was seeing. Or. Or the hat.

Luigi would still be wearing that black jumpsuit, wouldn’t he?

The closer he got, Mario could hear his brother mumbling.

“...underlings grabbed me; I remember that. And then. And then.” A frustrated hiss escaped him. “Why can’t I remember anything else?”

“Luigi?”

Luigi looked up from behind his rock, confusion coloring his face for a second as it landed on Mario before lighting up.

“Bro? Bro!”

Before Mario could even say another word, Luigi was moving and had nearly tackled him as he gave him a bone crushing hug.

“I don’t know where we are, but I’m happy we’re together! I missed you Bro!”

Mario carefully pulled away from the hug and swept his eyes over Luigi, half-afraid that if he looked away, his brother would turn into Mr. L again, or worse, vanish into thin air.

“Mario? Are you okay?”

Mario sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “Y-Yeah. I’mma fine. I just. I missed you too.”

Luigi gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder. “Well I’mma a here now.” He looked around and frowned. “Speaking of which, where are we?”

“The Underwhere. It’s uh. The place people go when they die.”

“Huh.”

“...you. Don’t seem surprised.”

Luigi shrugged and then winced, rubbing gently at his arm. “I dunno...I guess it a makes sense? I think I’ve been here awhile...I don’t remember anything past Bowser and Peach’s wedding…” he frowned a little.

“What did I do to my arm? It feels like I pulled it or something.”

“Maybe you a landed on it wrong!”

Luigi blinked. “...Maybe.”

Mario gave him a wide smile, hoping his brother would buy the explanation and drop it. He didn’t like lying to Luigi but what was he supposed to tell him? He cut it after a fight with him because he got brainwashed to be evil?

He didn’t think his brother would take that well.

And...if Luigi didn’t remember being Mr. L, and was back to being his regular, kind-hearted self, then...what was the point of ever bringing up what he’d been up to before falling into the Underwhere?

It didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

It was all in the past and unlikely to ever come back up again in conversation with...anyone.

He’d have to talk to Peach and Bowser first, of course, but he was sure they’d agree with him.

Luigi didn’t ever have to know about Mr. L.

Mario would take that experience with him to his grave.

Smile turning more warm, Mario offered his hand to Luigi.

“C’mon. I can fill you in on what you missed as we look for someone else down here. It’ll be like you were there the whole time!”

Luigi grinned and took his hand. “Sounds like a plan, Mario. Lead the way!”

#super mario #super paper mario #my fics #mario #mr. l #luigi #in which i put mario through one heck of an emotional roller coaster #i would also like to apologize for any and all inaccuracies in this #i don't own a wii and have thus never played the actual game #sorry bout that #buckle in folks; this thing got LONG #tw: language

[ganondoodle]

I am genuinely thinking you need to put totk down and just play botw again. I say this in the kindest way, but it seems like you're just sinking further into how upset you are and that's not good my man. If totk upset you that deeply, then ignore it. Completely disregard it. Go play the one that brings you joy again and go back to reveling in your ideas. Nintendo made some cheap bs - go make something better, you know? Rolling again and again in the one you seem to loathe will not make you feel better, or bring any less inflammatory comments your way. Go have fun.

i am in fact playing totk viciously ignoring all that bothers me, but here i can yell about it so im gonna do it bc otherwise it would just gnaw on my nerves in silence, which in my case is the worse option

i dont want to play botw again right now, i have like 500 hours in that game across multiple profiles, i wanted more botw, for its world to be expanded and build on, like a good sequel should, and the story and lore of totk massively disappointed me to be clear, i LIKE totk, i LOVE the new music, the gameplay, alot of the sidequests are genuinely amazing and much more intergrated into the world, but same cannot be said about the story/lore, i feel stepped on for caring about the world they made me care about so im gonna talk about it and it seems like im not alone (lets ignore twitter for the most part, that place has become an actual hellhole and im not sure if its bc i have a way bigger audience over there or if its just what twitter has become ... probably both)

if you are bothered by me talking about it thats well in your right! feel free to mute the 'ganondoodles talks' tag or leave if you wanna, im not forcing anyone to listen to me xD

im very passionate about this darn franchise but know that all my yelling and complaining comes from a place of love for it, and im not breaking any controllers over it, tho i think i always sound more agressive when i write about stuff i dont like than i actually am but idk how to phrase it in a way so people know how i feel ;_;

#ganondoodles answers #i wrote this with not a single fiber of my being being agressive #i promise you im as dangerous as a rabbit in a cage upset it didnt get salad today

[lilacartsmadsion]

Ghost of Our Pasts AU

Finally making one about this AU. (But I will NEVER rewrite the AU that shit took forever)

Dark Cacao is used to Caramel Choco Cookie’s The Founder’s voice looming over him and clouding his mind in hate…

Till a new voice entered his mind recently…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dark Cacao Cookie knew The Founder was relentless with his hatred for sweets…that much he knows…

Personally, Dark Cacao Cookie never ate sweets, it’s not a matter of discipline, he ate bitter foods from the moment he was born…so his body isn’t used to sweet things…

That wasn’t the problem…truth be told, The Founder hated anything sweet, including Cookies.

When Dark Cacao became friends with Pure Vanilla Cookie, he only scowled. ‘You dare betray your own kin?’ Is what he repeated that night. Over and over Dark Cacao never got a word of peace.

‘You think you’re so high and mighty do you? Ignoring me? Your own ancestor?!’

He heard that phrase a lot of times, he was too immune to the guilt-tripping that regarded him to obey an angry spirit who couldn’t let go of a grudge. Even then the people he held a grudge to were dead. The only remaining cookies alive? Bitter to the core. Even they had their biases against sweets…(Caused quite a commotion for the Milk and Coffee Villages)

Dark Cacao could care less if he was his ancestor. He was tormented by his own parents for years. An Ancestor was no different. If he didn’t respect him, he won’t respect him back.

Then he had a son, and that angered him even more.

‘Dark Choco Cookie?! Dark Choco Cookie?! That’s not a Bitter Cookie!’

‘You are a disgrace! You ungrateful lousy brat!’

‘After everything I gave you?! After freeing you from the pain and torment your parents put you through, you betray me with this sweet hellspawn?!’

Dark Cacao only ignored him, he didn’t care if Dark Choco was sweet or bitter, he was more grateful he was born with sweetness in his dough…

Perhaps he would be immune to the curse…that was all that mattered…

But alas, Dark Cacao barely knew how to parent…for Dark Cacao only knew the feeling of a cold embrace, to be cast out and forced to survive alone. The bitter feeling of being disowned by your own father.

And so, though not physically hurting his son, he barely made time…he was a king and to manage a son was just as hard. When their nation reached poverty after the Dark Flour War and the Great Choco Wall was made, he barely spent time with him…

He could only imagine what his son felt at that moment…being ignored by his own father…it took Dark Choco leaving and setting off to find his path in the world, did Dark Cacao realize how much his son had grown…

When Dark Choco returned, he knew he was not the same, Dark Cacao recognized the sword he used…it was his own…in the past…

The same one he used to destroy villages who dared to enslave his own kin…

He remembers the slaughters…

The cries of cookies both young and old…

Them calling out for their families to find them…

He could hear the screaming…

The Terror…

The Nightmarish Genocide…

With that sword he shed so much Strawberry Jam…he couldn’t help but freeze the moment he saw it in his son’s hand…

Because of his foolishness history repeated once more…a son who betrays his own father and homeland…a son who was disowned by his own father…

A son who was left to survive…on his own…

That night while he recovered from his wound, Dark Cacao only sat in despair and silence on his bed, the guilt eating him away as the voices of his ancestors echoed in his mind…

They ate away at his role at fatherhood.

They screamed that he shouldn’t have had a son at all.

They yelled that he shouldn’t have abandoned his past…

And he had no choice but to bear through the voices…

Soon they grew louder and louder, overlapping and echoing in his mind, almost painfully screaming in his ears.

He couldn’t help but cover his ears…

He wanted them to stop.

Make it stop.

Stop it…

“SILENCE!”

He yelled, startling one of his Watchers…or at least, a Watcher in training.

“My King?” Caramel Arrow asked, trying to reach out in comfort, but pulled away. Dark Cacao couldn’t cry nor sob…he’s lived his life knowing that it was no use to express those feelings…

“I’m…sorry..” Dark Cacao spoke, lifting his head up. (He hadn’t realized he’d basically arched his back) and palming his face.

“You are unwell Your Majesty.” Caramel Arrow spoke in concern. “Do you wish me to get the medics?” She asked, Dark Cacao shook his head.

“No…” He spoke. “Leave me be for a moment.”

Caramel Arrow nodded, Dark Cacao found comfort in that…that this cookie could understand his distress despite the fact he probably exiled her only friend…

She left the room, silently closing the door as not to agitate the king…as he sat on his bed in silence.

He was alone…as always…

Pure Vanilla Cookie was probably dead. Hollyberry Cookie hasn’t been seen in years. Golden Cheese? No one knows what became of her. And White Lily Cookie had understandably left without a word.

He had a son in his life…and he pushed him away too…

Now he was alone…as always…

In the silence…

In…the silence…?

Dark Cacao blinked in surprise, looking around warily…

It was never quiet…

He tried to focus on where the voices were but, he couldn’t sense them, couldn’t feel their thoughts or presence.

What was going on? Were they planning something?

He concentrated, almost as if he was having a battle with himself, what was he expecting? A threat? A taunt? A very painful headache that’s likely going to last till sunrise? He didn’t know.

He tried to focus, find whatever was causing this unnatural silence. (He calls it ‘unnatural’ since the voices literally cloud his thoughts)

“Curious one, are thou?”

He paused, blinking, he’s heard of many many voices, this was not one he was familiar with. “W-Who…?”

“You needn’t worry, thou is not in any danger…”

The voice sounded female…was it female? He couldn’t tell…

“Who are you? You’re not the Foundress…”

Indeed this cookie wasn’t, the Foundress’ voice was one he recognizes very clearly, her voice soothing him with gentle warm words that etched through his very soul…this voice….

This was not the same voice…

“Indeed…Thou is observant in this case, just as thou’s resolve…”

He scowled, he did not like this one bit…

“I am the previous holder of the Soul Jam from which Thou has now called Resolution.”

They spoke, her voice echoed in Dark Cacao’s mind for a mere moment.

“Previous…holder…?”

“Yes, indeed, thou is not the first to behold the power of the gods.” She spoke with benevolence and omnipotence. “Rather, Thou is only holding but a fraction of thine which was once held.”

“I have heard thou’s anguish…thou’s pain from the wrath of his guilt…” He trembled slightly. All his life he had been presenting himself as the strong, unyielding and unwavering King…to believe someone else, other than the Founders had seen this side of him…

The shameful, reckless and negligent King…

The one who weeps a traitor’s loss…

To hear someone else comfort him, was already shameful in itself.

“I do not need your comfort.” He spoke, clenching the blankets below him. “Nor your pity.”

“I do not seek to comfort thou’s pain, I had simply answered to thy will.” They spoke, he tried to look at the direction from where the voice was speaking in, but to no avail could he see the cookie in question. “Answered my will?”

“The Soul Jam’s power is far greater than what Thou has accomplished…simply ask it for what thou’s heart desires and it shall answer.” She explained, causing confusion in his mind. “Thou wished for privacy, thou had wished for silence…and it is with my presence did thy’s Soul Jam answered.”

So the Soul Jam summoned this Cookie to help him? Hm, that’s a first… “I’d be wary if I were thou, however, for I only answer to the Soul Jam’s desires, if thou does not seek comfort from me, I shall not give thou comfort, if thou does not seek thine presence from me, then I shall not stay.”

He thought about it for a moment, this new-found power in his soul…his mind now speaking to a voice that gave him a sense of dread…yet a moment of peace at last…

Perhaps, she could stay just a little longer…

“What is your name, Previous Holder?”

He could almost feel a smirk, or at least think they were smirking.

“Mystic Flour Cookie, at thou’s command, Your Majesty…”

#cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #mystic flour cookie #ghosts of our pasts au #hehehehe #lil something >:3

[stripedwolf88]

Wolf's Writings: Entry 11.20.23

I forgot where I was. I was tired so my filter wasn't on apparently.

"I have no soul," comes whooshing out of me like a pent up sigh. It's just something I say sometimes when my chest feels heavy and my body feels like chains are draped all over it and my head is full of empty thoughts. It captures my exhaustion and apathy toward the world in that moment. Maybe that's why I say it.

"Yes you do."

I startle, realizing I said that out loud with a volume someone else would hear. Maybe I knew I was saying it out loud. I'm no stranger to being ignored. My words often get washed away like footprints on a beach.

I glance up and you're looking at me with a firm gaze. Not firm. Certain, more like?

"I know it feels that way with life. I've felt that too," you finish your declaration.

An explanation for my accidentally, purposeful utterance.

I don't actually believe I don't have a soul but that phrase is the best way to describe this feeling.

I'm taking your casual kindness too seriously. I'm making it more than what it is. A reassurance that someone is human really shouldn't make my chest flutter.

Perhaps it's not about what you said in response and more at the fact that you heard. I didn't intend for anyone to hear. I just didn't feel like keeping it trapped in my head. I wanted to release it into the world so that maybe the feeling would dissipate like a cool fluttering breeze on a blindingly hot day. But you caught it, which means you were listening out for me, which means you care about what I have to say and maybe that's why my chest is filling with warmth.

Maybe it is also your response. You thought I believed my statement. Maybe I did. Do. It seems that didn't sit well with you. I mean, at least enough for you to correct me. You pushed the humanity back into my chest with just three words. I feel breathless again now. Not because of the invisible chains on my body but because you've thrown me up in the air like an enthusiastic jump on a trampoline. I feel...free. The elation at knowing your alive is filtering through the rusty blinds of my lungs. Sunshine is coating my insides and I hate how often this happens around you when I least expect it.

I have no good response to your beautiful, sunshine, gravity-defying words other than a lopsided grin and a soft, "I'm just tired."

My hope after all of this is that I've spoken words to you that have made you feel at least a small amount of the warmth you have made me feel. I'll keep trying to make you feel that way because you deserve that. You deserve to have the same kindness you've shown me and others shined right back at you. Anyway I fell a little in love with you just because of that so thank you for letting my heart beat a little wild in my chest.

#wolf's writings #writing #queer writings #queer writer #lesbian writer #drabble #connections #falling in love #writer #writers on tumblr

[wild-karrde]

Ok I don’t know if you’re still doing the lines of dialogue + characters so feel free to ignore! But I’m a HUGE sucker for tenderly patching each other up and I’ve have been LACKING in howzer content so what about Howzer + “that looks like it hurts” (LORD need me some tenderness) ❤️❤️

D!! Ok, so I wrote a SFW prequel of sorts to this NSFW Howzer x Medic!Reader ficlet, but I think it could also maybe be standalone (just drew from the specific moment mentioned there). I hope you dig it!

Rating: T (mention of injuries, death)

Send me an ask with a character + one line of dialogue, and I'll write a ficlet!

His footsteps were heavy in the planet’s dirt as he trudged along, barely aware of where his feet were taking him. He hadn’t stopped replaying the day in his mind. The screams of his men as they lay bleeding and dying around him, the sound of bombs going off around him, the smell of blaster smoke in the air. 

And then there had been you, a calm in the storm around him as you treated everyone you could as quickly as possible. He’d seen the Separatist tank turn towards you as you’d paused to take stock of your med kit, and in that moment, it was as if time had stopped around him. Every moment that your eyes had met, every touch you’d shared, every word and confession that caught in his throat rushed through his mind as he scrambled towards you frantically. 

All that time wasted. And now there may never be a chance.

He’d thrown himself on top of you as the explosion roared around both of you, pulling you against his chest and praying to whatever deity was listening that he’d covered you enough. He may have shouted at you to stay down, but he couldn’t remember. All he could think of was how that might be the only time he’d get to hold you how he wanted to, and he’d unleashed a stuttering breath beneath his helmet at the realization. 

Neither of you had moved as the dust had settled. He’d been holding you tightly enough to feel your pulse racing. Finally, you had shifted beneath him, turning to look up at him. He’d stared at you from beneath his helmet, his eyes scanning you for any visible injuries. 

“Are you alright?” he’d asked. 

You nodded, never breaking from his gaze almost as though you could see his eyes. Your left hand rested against his chest plate, your right clamped firmly around his hand. He allowed his thumb to drift across your knuckles, his mind slowing in the moment, as if you two had all the time in the world to finally say the things that needed to be said. 

In the next instant, the ground shook again, snapping him back to the present. A shout from across the field summoned you, and you slipped from his grasp, casting one last glance over your shoulder as you sprinted away. 

He’d resolved in that instant to not waste another moment. He hadn’t even bothered to stop at his tent or dust himself off. His armor was filthy and he was certain he stunk, but before he knew it, his boots had carried him outside of your tent. There was no door to rap his knuckles against, and he was coming up with the best phrase to let you know he’d arrived when you pushed the flaps open, bumping into him, and the words caught in his throat once more. 

You’d clearly cleaned yourself off, changing into a new shirt and trousers that were meant for utility and yet somehow framed you perfectly. The dust that had streaked your face earlier was gone, your skin scrubbed clean. The shirt had been clean, and Howzer cringed as he saw the dirt he’d smeared on your shoulder when you bumped into him. You found his eyes behind his visor once more before wordlessly stepping back inside, holding the flap open for him in invitation. He steps inside. 

The two of you stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before you finally speak. 

“Captain? Is everything alright?” 

He takes his helmet off, trying to find the right words for the first time in his life and only becoming more frustrated as they continue to elude him. Suddenly, you touch his chin and he stills, every thought vacating his mind as he feels the warmth of your fingertips against his stubbled chin. 

“That looks like it hurts,” you say softly. 

“Huh?” 

“You have a cut above your eyebrow.” 

He reaches up and touches it and winces at the sharp sting. The padding on the inside of his bucket has been thinning and he’d meant to replace it. He supposes one of the sharper edges finally pushed through at some point today, leaving him with the injury. As he winces, he feels the stiffness of dried blood on his temple and cheek. 

I’m a mess. But lucky that's the worst of it.

You gently guide him to your bunk as you rummage in your kit for supplies. Howzer sets his bucket next to his boot on the ground, worried he’s dirtying your bunk as his eyes scan the small space. There’s never time to really make a tent or barracks feel like home during a campaign before they need to be broken down and moved again, and yet everywhere his eyes touch, he sees items that are inherently you: neatly folded clothes piled on the desk, your boots by the door, a bottle of some sort of brown liquor tucked nearly out of view, your datapad lying by your pillow. He imagines you lying in bed at night, scanning through it in your sleep clothes, and suddenly his face feels warm. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts as you straighten from where you were crouched over your kit, coming to stand in front of him. He instinctively spreads his knees, and you smile as you step closer and lean over him. 

“I see you’ve done this before.” 

He huffs a dry laugh. “Try not to, but can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

You grin as you carefully clean the area around the wound. “If this is the worst trouble you get in, I think you’re doing alright, Captain.” 

“Howzer.”

You pause, looking down at him. He swallows hard. 

“My name is Howzer.” 

“I know. I just figured you’d prefer me to use your rank.”

This was a terrible idea. She doesn’t want me. Why would she ever?

“Howzer.” 

The way his name falls from your lips makes him wish he’d been recording on his helmet. There had never been a sweeter sound. His eyes meet yours, basking in the warmth of your gaze. 

“This may sting a bit. I’m sorry in advance.”

“S’alright.” 

You gently cradle his face as you apply the bacta. He winces at the slight burn, but it’s immediately forgotten when you place the bacta tube down and begin stroking his forehead soothingly as you inspect your work. He feels as if every centimeter of his skin you touch has to be branded with your fingerprints, and he knows it’ll never be enough. 

“Thank you by the way. For today," you say softly. 

He flounders. “Just doing my job.”

“Still. I appreciate it.”

“Couldn’t let you die.” 

You smile at him again as you reach for a bandage to place over the cut. “I do prefer being alive, I think. Too much good food to try and booze to drink, you know?” 

He finally surrenders to the smile that had been threatening. “I suppose. We don’t get much time for that.” 

Your eyes flick to the poorly concealed bottle in the corner, and he follows your line of sight. 

“Well, if you’d ever like to share in some good whiskey, you could always come by here. It’s not the best, but it’s good. At least in my opinion.”

“I think I’d like that.” 

You smooth the bandage over the cut, pausing for a moment before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to it. Howzer’s brain scrambles as you step back, trying to gauge his reaction. He sees fear settle into your eyes, and you pull further away. 

“I’m sorry. I overstepped. It won’t-”

He grips your arm, pulling you into his lap and kissing you frantically, finally allowing the barriers he’d been holding up for every second he’d known you to come crashing down. Your hands fly to cradle his face as you straddle his lap, your fingers raking through his hair as his arms wrap around you, his hands planting against your spine and pulling you closer. His lips work against yours, and he has to fight the urge to sigh as he finally confirms just how soft your lips are against his, how it feels to hold you in his arms.

There’s no hesitation from you, not an ounce of regret, and Howzer knows in that moment, there’ll be no turning back. 

He’s yours.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @moonstrider9904 @teletraan-meets-jarvis @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri

#karrde writes #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #fanfiction #fan fic #captain howzer #captain howzer x reader #captain howzer x you #first kiss #fluff

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Asking for advice anon here. So the poem I'm writing is a tribute for the death of a loved one. It's a free verse + imagery + metaphor. I've tried to incorporate the theme of finding solence in unexpected places, despite hardship. I'm ashamed to say I've been working on it for over a year. I'm running out of time and it doesn't seem right. What do you recommend?

No shame- I have writing's I've been working on for 5 years. It's okay.

First, I want to say my condolences to you. I hope that you find some peace in the aftermath of pain and loss. Grief is no simple subject with which to write. Please be careful with this advice- writing on such personal and traumatic topics can be sensitive- and much of this advice is about focusing in on the grief. If you are struggling, please reach out to someone who can help you.

Let’s talk about some poetry strategies 😊 I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to explain most of this by using an example poem. It might not be entirely related to what it is that you are trying to accomplish. But as I read your ask, it immediately reminded me of this one poem by Marylin Chin. This poem is also a tribute poem for lost loved ones and centers around using ordinary objects as metaphors for grief/loss/change. If I am off base- feel free to just ignore all of this. I'm doing my best on limited information here! 

Okay, So I usually tell my students, my friends, and literally anyone who will listen to me talk about poetry, that there are a couple of ways to remove the “thought-block” in pursuit of poetry. Depending on the issue at hand, and what exactly you mean when you say, “it doesn’t seem right,” start by going back to the basic blocks. 

 Do you mean the words on the page don’t fit right? Do you mean that the thematic backing to the poem doesn’t seem right? Do you mean that the longevity of the phrases doesn’t seem right?  

I would take some time to diagnose the exactness of the problem. Often, when I am working on my own poetry (or writing of any kind) I will feel as if I am not quite sincere enough. You know that feeling when you are saying what you want to say, but it’s just not as impactfully emotional as you would like? I will sometimes feel like there is just a little bit more I need to say- to express- but it is just out of reach. I think that sometimes I even try to hide the truth of the matter from myself. So, I spend some time with my thoughts, often while sitting outside in the sun. I find the most peace there. I read some philosophy and sit outside until I’m exhausted and focused. Something inspiring or thought-provoking, just to get your mind in the spirit of analysis. There is some part of me that views poetry as an analysis of some kind – it's a process of teasing out and pulling apart a feeling then trying to suture it into the most poignant use of language possible.  

Consider, where do you find peace? Go there and think about who you are in relation to what impression you are trying to imbue into the poem. What is your truth? How does it relate to your message/ thematic point?  Go a step beyond just what you want to see written on the page, but what feeling do you seek to illicit? Even if you can’t yet put it into words- focus on the feeling. Know what it means to you, and your own intentions with that feeling.  

Now that we’ve talked about the feeling internal to the poem. As you say, the theme is grief- what's your purpose with the poem? Are you attempting to comfort readers, and yourself, from the grief? To reassure that the sting of loss will pass? Or are you sitting with grief? Pondering on the ways in which the world moves despite the loss you so keenly feel? Define it- if you can.  

I know this is a complex subject, given that grief is difficult to deal with, so if you are struggling- be careful with how seriously you take this advice. Take care of yourself- first and worry about poetry second. Okay? 😊  

Or is it something else? When you cannot yet phrase your feelings into poetry- start by attempting to make it into a question. What desperation of the soul are you trying to reach out to?   

For instance, with grief, some people are asking: God, why? And some are asking to make sense of sudden loss. And some are just asking- was it peaceful for them? Some ask why we must suffer mortality at all- what does it all mean? Some ask about the connected nature of past and present- and grief associated with letting go of the past. Where do we go when we pass? How do those who remain move on? (won’t lie- nothing launches me faster into existential dread than grief and loss and mortality). 

 Use the question on your mind- and then try to answer it with the poem (when it all falls into place). Answer it with the images and metaphor that you pick out- do a free write, association, type writing activity, wherein you just ramble about how exactly this image (or metaphor) answers the question you came up with.  

Don’t put too much pressure on yourself to make it perfect- just ramble on. All good things in time- and there will time to edit, later. 

Let’s get into an example: Have you ever read “Alter” by Marylin Chin? She’s a wonderful poet, I highly recommend it if you don’t already know her. I’m thinking about this poem right now because it has a really interesting way of representing loss and change within generational momentum and cultural landscape.  

Poem: 

Altar  by Marilyn Chin 

I tell her she has outlived her usefulness.  I point to the corner where dust gathers,  where light has never touched. But there she sits,  a thousand years, hands folded, in a tattered armchair,  with yesterday’s news, “the Golden Mountain Edition.”  The morning sun slants down the broken eaves,  shading half of her sallow face. 

On the upper northwest corner (I‘d consulted a geomancer),  a deathtrap shines on the dying bougainvillea.  The carcass of a goatmoth hangs upsidedown,  hollowed out. The only evidence  of her seasonal life is a dash of shimmery powder, a last cry. 

She, who was attracted to that bare bulb,  who danced around that immigrant dream,  will find her end here, this corner,  this solemn altar. 

This poem speaks about an “alter” of the ordinary. Beginning with an allusion to the current state of the past generations - as extremely old and stagnant, Chin writes that now she sits "a thousand years old, hands folded, in a tattered armchair." Presumably, the poem is speaking about a lost ancestor, or perhaps a grandmother, though it remains unclear, she is certainly speaking to a past generation or her particular Chinese American experience. We know this because of the line “with yesterday’s news, ‘the Golden Mountain Edition.’” The ordinary then becomes extraordinary, in context of its representational value to the life of Chinese Immigrants. The phrase “Golden Mountain” is a common way many immigrants from China would refer to the mountains of California during the 1850’s Gold Rush. This phrase held significance as it indicates how people would hope to become prosperous during the Gold Rush- by seeking something as awe-inspiring as the Golden Mountain. The impact of Chin using the “Golden Mountain” to bring forth an image of hopeful and eager young immigrants coming to America for Gold contrasts with the later image found in poem of “the carcass of a goatmoth” as it hangs upside down- brilliantly ensconcing a thematic message of dashed hopes amid a slowly dying, and turning to dust, American Dream as the quest for Gold was often all for not. Many found nothing- most became impoverished in a New Land.

The poem, is thus, functioning as a lamentation on the death of those who have come before us and a recognition even still of their full lives- one in which they had hopes and dreams even if they did not all come true. Conversely, speaking to the tone of identifying mortality, but also recognizing how our predecessors live on through us. As Chin ends the poem with “this solemn alter” proclaiming her own need to keep a testament to their lives with her- always like an offering to the God themself. Intuitively, also, the word “Alter” holds connotations of Chinese religiosity- marking out yet another way Chin is using the ordinary to represent a metaphysical connection to the passing of her predecessor, her past in Chinese tradition, and the dashed hopes of the Gold Rush.  While the end is not precisely a solace of any kind, it does bring forth a brief flicker of peace- of knowing that life goes on and the older generations will be remembered.

If you wish to also use a particular image or metaphor- mark out the ways in which it is multifaceted as a representation of your own circumstances. Much like how the words "Golden Mountain," "Goatmouth Moth" and “Alter” for Chin represents so many other things- so too, I’m sure, you can find images of like value in your life. Think on it for a long while- if you already have things picked out, try to establish, maybe is a short reflection-style journal entry, what it is about these images that represents your grief/theme so well?  

The vehicle of these contrasting images also lends well to identifying quintessentially Chinese American struggles with intergenerational communication and the trauma of assimilating to a new culture. The dead moth becomes the main metaphor for grief. It’s specifically a goatmouth moth, in the poem, which is a massive, beautiful moth. The carcass lays where it died- untouched and unmoved. Suddenly, grief struck, a plain table with a dusty moth becomes an altar to her ancestors. The moth represents the ways in which we let grief linger. Chin refuses to clean or change anything about the altar- revealing her reluctance to forget the past. It’s a really Brillant way of representing loss- that uncanny feeling of unfinished, finished business, and a tenuous cultural connection growing evermore strained by the pressure Chin feels to assimilate to American culture even if it means further distance from who her ancestors were. 

Consider- how this poem enumerates ways the thread of grief weaves through our lives- who are you? And how does grief manifest in your life? does it linger like the moth? or are you moving on? is the grief like the rising Sun- present but you know that your loved ones are watching over you? How does it manifest in your personal history? What are the implications of grief in your life? You speak on including imagery and metaphor- these are excellent devices to rely on. Chin’s poem should help elucidate that. I hope.  

I sometimes will free-write every single word I can think of in relation to one single element of the poem. Say you wish to have the moth be your metaphor- write every single word you can think of that relates to the moth (put aside thought of all else, consider the physical). Then move to how you wish the metaphor to interact with the theme. Chin’s theme is grief, so her moths gather dust and rot in the corner. She uses moths specifically because they dry rot- and dust is only left.

My point is that if you are stuck still trying to find the words- free write about it. Don’t pressure yourself to find the perfect words- just find all the words. There’s always time to edit later- Chin for instance worked on this poem for a long time. Use your free write activity like a word bank and keep switching things around- until it feels right.

So try to think on ways in which you can use your images to layer in meanings- is there a difference between the connotative and denotive meanings? How can you tease apart the words you want to use- to match on to your thematic point? 

Feel free to ask more questions. I will take any excuse at all to talk about poetry. If none of this advice works out for you, then I hope you at least enjoyed the infodump. I cannot control myself, sometimes. Again, my condolences for your loss. In times of grief, I find writing to be a great comfort. Hopefully, it is the same for you.  

Also, I fear I have already written too many words and I did not even get to give advice on free verse or the editing process. So, if you want me to speak about that too, feel free to write back. I just don’t want to overwhelm you with a longer answer.  (It's already so much) (I'm So SoRYY, I Just LOVE poetry).

Lastly, I always recommend- when you don't know how to write something, or you are stuck- turn to reading. I don't know why- but it works like magic.

#american poetry #chinese american poetry #poetry advice #poetry #Marylin chin #grief poetry

[ashes-writing]

stranger things  ● forever pt 7  ● s. harrington

warning

{ multi chapter } single mom / canon related female reader with 3 year old daughter, some baby talk but hopefully not overbearing, petnames and nicknames (princess, etc), robin / barb pairing + all the things surrounding that -because the 80's were hard for lgbqt-, steve's parents are the actual worst, esp his father, fluff, time jumps vary with each chapter, female reader related to a canon character ( Robin Buckley's cousin) in use / heavily characterized female reader

word count + prev.part

pt 6 is << here >> if you need to catch up

5756 words

summary

“If we’re gonna live with Steve..” she goes quiet. Thinking carefully over the words she needs to use to ask her question because you and Steve have been working with her on speaking and words lately and she’s a very smart little girl. She smiles to herself and speaks up, “Does this mean he really is my daddy now? Do you love ‘im?”

“Yes, I love him. But sweetie, this is a little more complicated than you think, okay?” you answer, words dying out.

taglist + shoutouts

<< taglist >> if you're here for eddie,gareth -or other characters, please let me know and I'll not tag you in Steve.

@allelitesmut @caravelofthesun @chaoticcancer @dylanwritesgood @eddiemuns0nl0ver @eddiemunsonspantschain - it finally let me tag you again bb! feel free to ignore! @just-a-blue-nerd @mysticalavenuecheesecake @slyisbehindyou @spaceconveyor and @tbmunson -bestie, bae, babeeee.. this story would not have ever seen the light of day without you, ilysm and you mean the world to me, thank you so much for letting me whine/vent/tear my hair out over this -and all the things!!

special tag to @emilyhampton1 because your ask made my life and I thought I'd tag you.

other links

masterlist  ● steve's masterlist  ● about + rules

“It’ll just take a few minutes.” Steve tells you as he gets out of the drive seat of your car and jogs up the walkway, disappearing into his parents house to grab the documents he needs to finish signing the paperwork on the apartment. You watch as the door closes behind him and Stevie speaks up quietly. “Mama?”

“Yeah, cupcake?”

“If we’re gonna live with Steve..” she goes quiet. Thinking carefully over the words she needs to use to ask her question because you and Steve have been working with her on speaking and words lately and she’s a very smart little girl. She smiles to herself and speaks up, “Does this mean he really is my daddy now? Do you love ‘im?”

You rub the bridge of your nose and sit there for a minute or two thinking about the best way to explain your living situation to your daughter. Because she’s a damn smart kid but she’s just a kid. You want to explain it in a way she can grasp. Without misleading her or lying to her or getting her hopes up.

“Sweetie..” you start, falling silent again for a pause to think about phrasing very carefully because this is a delicate situation. And she’s already so attached to Steve. She’s not the only one but you’re trying to push down your own attachment because that’s not the important thing. Stevie is what’s most important.

“Mama.” Stevie’s waiting, leaning around the back of your seat to try and look at you.

“Yes, I love him. But sweetie, this is a little more complicated than you think, okay?” you answer, words dying out. Stevie nods. “C-o-m-p-l-i-c-a-t-e-d.” she sounds out the word, struggling just a bit. “What’s that mean?”

“It means it’s not easy.” you answer, turning a little in the passenger seat to look at your little girl. “When you’re an adult, sweetie.. You’ll understand more, okay?” you promise, smiling at her. “For now, this is what I can tell you.. I do love Steve. And if you want to think he’s your daddy, you can, baby. As long as he’s okay with it. If it bothers him, you have to stop.”

“Pwomise.” Stevie smiles a little. “He said it won’t ever bother ‘im.”

“Sweetie, that doesn’t mean it won’t one day.” you rub the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath or two, glancing at the fancy stained glass panes at either side of the front door of his parents house.

The house was nice. Big windows in the front and a sloping drive. Expertly manicured lawns. It was the kind of house you’d have killed to grow up in when you were a kid, bouncing from shitty apartment, to strange uncle’s houses, to rundown trailers all over the place because Jenna didn’t like staying in one place too long for most of your childhood.

“Where is my real one?” Stevie asks quietly and you fill with dread. Take a few shaky breaths and for a long pause this time, you’re quiet. Trying to parse out what she’s old enough to know and what can wait until she’s later. This is the question you’ve been preparing for since the  day you left the hospital with her and you’ve been dreading it in equal measure.

“His name is Nick, cupcake. But he wasn’t a good person and he didn’t love us. I didn’t love him, either.” you admit quietly. Stevie’s sitting back in her car seat now, staring out the window at Steve’s house. After a few seconds, she speaks up. “I don’ wanna know him.”

You take a deep breath and nod, smiling at her. “And you don’t have to, sweetie. I promise.” 

“Fank you.” Stevie smiles at you and you laugh softly. Glancing back at the door to Steve’s house because it’s been a while and he’s not coming out yet.

CONTINUED

“Son, we need to have a talk. Right now.” his father’s stern voice shatters his one-tracked train of thought and Steve looks up from digging through the file cabinet to find everything he might need and setting it to the side in a pile.

“If this is about packing, hire someone.” Steve answers calmly. His father grumbles under his breath, annoyed. Steve can’t find his medical folder and given what he wants eventually, it’s kind of necessary to have, so he pushes past his father, going to search for his mom instead.

Not that she’d be any more likely to know where his medical information was at, but on the off chance she might… Steve wanders into his parents bedroom to find his mother sitting quietly, staring at a baby photo of him that sat on her vanity gathering dust for years.

“I can’t believe you’d hide a grandchild from me. From us. We’re your parents, Steve.”

Steve’s brow raises and he rolls his eyes because he almost knows exactly where this is heading. And given the time crunch he’s under, it’s the last thing he wants to deal with because if either of them pushes just a little too hard today, he’s going to explode.

“And you let that poor girl.. The mother of your child, Steve.  You let her fend for herself while you’re all over town with that girl Nancy?” his mother shakes her head in disappointment. “After all the times  you’ve heard your father and I fight about him.. The affairs..” she goes quiet, wincing a little as if she’s pained by what she thinks and this is just enough to push Steve a little closer to that anger that’s been stewing inside and building for most of his life by now.

His father’s leaned in the doorway when he turns to walk out.

“We need to have a talk. Sit.” James nods to the seat at his mother’s vanity table. Steve’s jaw clenches and he goes to step around his father instead of sitting as he’s been told. James towers over his son and commands quietly, “Sit down. You’re not leaving until we’ve talked.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Steve answers, his own firm voice that of course, his father does not like hearing. It’s backtalk to the man. It’s disrespectful and most of the time, it’s the fastest way to push James Harrington right over the edge to anger. But Steve doesn’t care now. He hasn’t cared in a while.

“Oh, but we do.. Whats this I’m hearing about you fathering a child? And then you keep it hidden from us? Probably because you know we’d disapprove of the young woman.” and the clench of his father’s jaw tells Steve that young woman is anything but what he wanted to say and Steve’s fists clench. He chuckles and it’s a dark and bitter sound. “Debra, I’m guessing.”

“It doesn’t matter who told us, Steve. Answer my question. Is it true?”

Steve laughs and rubs his chin thoughtfully. Every part of him wants to tell them it is, because it’s kind of obvious they’ve already decided on their own and nothing he says beyond this point will matter. Every part of him wants to tell them that he doesn’t care if they approve of you or not, you’re the girl that somehow, sooner or later, he’ll be starting a life with. Forever.

Before he starts to answer, his father goes that final step in pushing Steve straight over the edge with his anger. James Harrington chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m going to take your silence to mean the answer is obviously yes.” he looks at Penelope, watches her face go from anger to hurt and then disappointment. “How could you, Steve? You see how your father is…” and Steve shakes his head, "I didn't. Stevie isn’t mine.. but if she was..if I had, I'd have been a better father than him." Steve is furious, he's done mincing words.

James gives his wife an annoyed look. “It’s because we coddled him, Penelope, don’t you get it? Giving him everything a kid could ever want. He’s never had t’ do without a day in his life. He’s never had to struggle and now he’s spoiled. Lazy with a mediocre and worthless job. And he doesn’t want to do better.”

“Right.. Coddling means abandonment now, I guess?” Steve blurts it out before he can stop himself and he steps up into his father, making himself taller. “Since I’m such a failure and a disappointment.. How about I make things easier on both of you.. I’m moving out.” he smirks as he says it, watching his mom gape and immediately speak up, - “ You’re not mature enough to have a family. You’re not mature enough..” she trails off and Steve continues, “You can have your stupid cards and the fucking BMW is parked at the video store. I’ll drive it over later. Neither of you even have to think about me anymore.” as he throws the keys at his father’s feet and takes out his wallet, throwing the credit cards down onto the floor too.

“Son..” Penelope’s trying to speak up, she’s trying to get father and son calm again so they can all talk rationally but then she sees the pain and anger in her son’s eyes. And the coldness in his father’s eyes. And she thinks about how lately, all she can do is replay all the things she wishes she’d done as a mother. How hurt she was to find out her son didn’t trust her enough or care enough to come to her when he landed himself in the situation her friend Debra seems to think he’s in.

How she wants to fix everything. Be a mother to her son and a grandmother to this grandchild that’s been kept from her. She wants to make things right.

,, Maybe it’s too late.” the thought comes and she flinches, not just because Steve and his father are shouting, shoving each other back and forth in anger, prompting her to step between the two just so they stop before it goes too far.

But it goes too far because it was always going to. Steve’s been left alone, made to feel like he’s not good enough, made to feel unworthy of love in any capacity for so long that he’s just fucking done. When his father shoves him, his anger gets the best of him and he takes a swing at the old man.

James stands there gaping, holding his jaw as he shakes in the anger he’s seething in. Then he smirks. “Get out.”

“My pleasure, asshole.” Steve’s jaw flutters as he says it. Penelope speaks up. “Not yet.”

Steve’s gaze settles on his mother and he tugs at his hair, taking a shaky breath or two to calm himself. “Why not? You both know everything.”

“Son..” Penelope swallows hard. “I wish you’d just listen to reason. You’re not mature enough to–” she’s trying to be as delicate with the words as she can but she’s worried. Scared for her little boy and she just wants to better understand everything.

“Stevie isn’t mine.. Yet.” Steve mumbles. “When I have a family, don’t worry. I won’t bother letting either of you know.” and he takes a long and deep breath, pausing to mull over what else he wants to get out of his system. “I was mature enough to leave alone all the time. I was mature enough to cook my own meals. Do whatever bullshit errands that lazy asshole wanted before you two came back for a day or two between trips.” Steve glares at his father and then sighs, shaking his head, “I was mature enough to have exactly two weeks to recover from nearly dying.. And not just once, Mom.. Twice..” he reminds her, “One of those times you couldn’t even be bothered to answer the call when I got Dustin’s mom to call you. I didn’t even call the last time because I knew neither of you would give a damn..” he rubs the bridge of his nose, “I’m mature enough to be given a deadline to move out. I think I’m mature enough to have a kid.. Or anything else I want.” he chuckles bitterly, “But thanks for your motherly concern, Penelope.”

James steps up to his son, glaring. “Apologize to your mother right this instant.”

“Or what? You’re getting your shitty car back, James. And I gave you all the cards back. I don’t need ‘em. Don’t need either of you either. I’m fine.” Steve steps up to his father, fist clenched at his side. “Mail me my medical records.. Or don’t, I’ll call somebody and get the name of my doctors and shit when I need ‘em. I got everything I needed to finish signing paperwork for my apartment.” he smirks at his father, angry and defiant and done giving a shit about stepping on the toes or tiptoeing around with his parents. “Anything else to say, James? Wanna try to hit me again? Tell me I’m a disappointment?”

His father steps back a little and Steve rolls his shoulders and laughs. “I won’t bother either of you again. I’m not steppin foot back in this house after I drop your stupid fucking car off later this afternoon. I’ll figure out how to get around.”

And Steve shoves right past his parents, letting the front door to the house slam shut and rattle as it does. Penelope breaks down, sobbing so hard she’s shaking as it hits her just how badly everything has just gone.

She realizes just how much of a mistake she’s made in life when she looks over at her husband and she doesn’t even see a hint of remorse for anything. Not even a shred of regret for the way they chose to parent their only child. 

“I’m leaving you, James. I.. I can’t pretend anymore. I finally realize I married a cold-hearted jackass. Have fun being free. I’ll call a cab when I’m packed.”

“Penelo-” James starts to call out to her as she goes upstairs and slams the door to their bedroom but her name dies on his lips because honestly, he’d be a lot farther in life by now if he hadn’t knocked up his summer fling and been forced by his own parents to do the right thing and marry her. He hasn’t loved her in years and now that she’s leaving, it feels like a weight’s been lifted. Now that he doesn’t have to deal with his useless son, he feels free.

And it feels so good.

CONTINUED

You can tell something is wrong with Steve by the way he rushes out of the house and down to your car, getting into the drivers seat wordlessly. Even Stevie picks up on it.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, scout?”

“You otay?”

Steve takes a deep breath. He can break down later on. When he’s got a few minutes to himself away from you or Robin or Dustin or Stevie. Then he can deal with what he’s just done and how he feels about it.

Or this is what he tells himself. Until he locks eyes with you as he pulls away from the curb of his parents old house and starts to drive away. “Steve, what’s wrong?” - and maybe it’s the softness in your gaze, maybe it’s that sweet and quiet little drawl that sounds so concerned.. Worried about him.

Whatever it is, Steve just kind of takes a few wavering breaths and plasters on a weak smile. “Tell you later.” he mumbles so that you can hear him. Stevie repeats her question because he didn’t answer it and she’s worried too. He plasters on a slightly better weak smile to look back at her when he pulls to a stop at the sign on the end of his block. “Yeah. I’m okay. Everything is okay.”

Stevie nods. “We go home now?”

Steve chuckles. “Not for a while yet, scout..” and you smile, stealing a look at him, answering Stevie with a soft laugh. “We don’t get to move in until the 3rd of July.. Remember when I told you that was, cupcake?” you ask and Stevie giggles. “Next week?” she asks.

“Yeah! Good girl, you’re so smart!” you smile even brighter. 

The apartment complex comes into view and you share a look with Steve. As your car pulls to a stop in front of the office, you take a deep breath. Looking over at him again. “You’re absolutely sure you wanna do this..”

“I want to do this.” Steve repeats. “What about you?”

You nod, a smile too big when you answer. “I want to do this too. And we already know each other, we’re friends. It’s going to be fine, Steve.”

Steve almost leans into you just a little too close. He almost just goes for it and kisses you but he reminds himself that he’s trying to take things at least a little slow. Let you realize that you can trust him and he’s not going anywhere. That he wants to be with you and he loves you both more than he can put to words already. 

Instead of kissing you like he’s tempted to, he raises a hand, brushes some hair away from your forehead. Then he smiles at you. “So we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this.” you take a deep breath and smile back.

CONTINUED

You’re more than a little angry at Steve’s parents because their heads are apparently so far up their own asses that they can’t see what an amazing guy he really is. And he’s your best friend, -also the man you’re in love with, and when he starts to tell you and Robin everything that happened when you had to stop by his parents house earlier that afternoon, you and Robin share a look.

“Steve.. Are you sure you’re okay?” Robin asks, leaning against her best friend’s side. “I mean, are you absolutely sure you’re fine? Because that was.. A lot.” 

You move to sit closer, leaning against his other side. “It was.” you mumble, resting your head against his shoulder as he shrugs and laughs it off as if it’s nothing. You look up at him in concern. “It’s okay if you’re not okay, Steve.” you and Robin both say it at the same time. 

Stevie wanders in from her nap, rubbing her eyes. You hold out your arms to her and she comes over, settling into both your lap and Steve’s until she’s fully awake. 

“I feel really good, actually. Like.. If I’d known I’d feel this good after saying all that earlier, I’d have said it the first time they didn’t care enough to show up at the hospital.” 

Your brow raises. “They left you.. Sitting in a hospital? What the hell?” and Robin smiles to herself as soon as she looks at you and sees just how angry you are after hearing what Steve’s just said. “It was after the Starcourt thing.. Right? Because you tried to call from the payphone. And you told me they were probably just sleeping. I remember.”

“Yeah.” Steve answers, resting his chin against the top of Stevie’s head. Smiling just a little more because having you and Robin with him right now feels a lot better. Stevie leans up against him and yawns. “We go play?” she asks, looking from you to Steve and then over at Robin with big begging eyes.

You nod. “Course, cupcake. Hey.. we can go to the splash pads they opened at the park.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, that’s on the way back from James and Penelope’s house anyway. I told him I’d bring him his shitty car back.”

“Good idea.” you mutter, holding his gaze. “We’ll figure something out.” and you don’t realize just how much what you’ve just said means to him. There was no hesitation, there was no second to think. There wasn’t any of that. 

Robin laughs softly to herself. And when Steve gets up to go grab himself a soda from the drink machine in the break room, she looks at you. Starts to hum the wedding march all over again with a smirk. You stick out your tongue and flip her off before a dreamy sigh leaves your mouth. “In a heartbeat. If he asked.. Since you’re going to give me shit either way we go.” you feel lighter. Confessing the way you feel to Robin and your daughter is.. It takes away the constant urge you have to just blurt it all out to him and risk blowing everything up completely.

Robin gapes for a second and then she’s smirking and oh so smug. “I knew it!”

“The thing is, Robin.. We both know it’s not going to happen. If all I get is the chance to be his friend, I’ll live with that.” you lean your head back against the wall and laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you watch your daughter color in her Strawberry Shortcake coloring book. “I’m down bad, okay? And like.. It’s not just.. It’s everything?”

“Awww.. it’s so sweet.” Robin teases. Eyes glued to Barb when the bell over the door jingles and Barb steps through it, shaking off the raindrops in her hair and on her maroon raincoat. “Hey! How’d it go?”

“We move in next week. On the 3rd.” you smile. And you nudge Robin. “Stop staring and do something already, oh my god.” as you pull yourself up off the floor where you’d been sitting. “I’m gonna go get a drink too.” 

You make your way into the back room and spot Steve lightly punching the drink machine. And even though you know it’s probably not a good idea -especially not for you, not with the way you feel about him and how touching him will be torture for you later when you’re alone and you can’t stop thinking about how his body feels against yours or under your hands- you slip your arms around him and hug against his back. “Steve, it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. They needed to hear it.”

Steve’s breath hangs in his throat because you’re melted against him and it feels so good. Too good. He turns to face you and this means you’re now hugging against him chest to chest. He slips his arms back around you and leans into you heavily. “It just pisses me off.”

“I know.” you mumble, soft and sweet as you finally pull yourself together enough to look into his eyes. “I know, Steve. But they did deserve it. They’re the ones who abandoned you over and over.”

He nods. “Yeah. They definitely did that.”

“We’ll take your car back on the way to the park later.”

“Shit.” Steve palms his face. “I threw the keys at him earlier. And I don’t know where the hell the spare key is anymore, I think it’s up in my room.”

“Okay, so you can call from here and tell him where it is. Tell him if he wants it, get it himself.”

Steve takes a deep breath. Smirks just a little. “Yeah.  That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Steve goes off to find a phone to call his father and tell him to pick up the car for himself if he wants it and you lean heavy against the soda machine, pulling yourself together. Robin wanders in and leans next to you, taking some deep breaths of her own and you look at her, concern in your eyes. “What’s up?”

“I uh.. I almost kissed her. I was this close but then Mrs. Fletcher came in just as I was leaning in. Fuck!” Robin takes a swing at the machine and you laugh softly. “Screw what anyone else thinks. And Mrs. Fletcher’s half blind anyway, I doubt she saw anything.”

“But if she did..”

“Robin, stop trying to panic. Everything will be fine.”

“Not if she’s not.. You know.. Like me?” Robin throws up her hands and you grip her upper arms gently. “Calm down, woman. Take a few deep breaths. Look at me, okay?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you feel. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah, well.. Tell that to those kids over in the next town that got jumped outside the bowling alley there. Tell that to every church billboard sign outside.”

You shake your head. “Oh my god, stop having a meltdown. Just.. Relax. Breathe. I’m telling you, Robin.. All that matters is you and her. Okay? Okay.” you laugh softly as she nods and takes several shaky breaths. “She was just.. She’s so good with Stevie it does things to me when I watch them coloring or playing, aghhh.. Fuck. I’m in love with her and it’s driving me crazy.”

Barb is frozen in the doorway, staring at Robin.

“Oh no.” you mumble quietly, looking from where Barb stands to your cousin. “Robbie?”

“She just heard me.” Robin mumbles and her stomach twists in knots.

“Mhm. You two need to talk, okay? I’m going out front with Stevie. Talk to her, holy shit.” you disappear out the door, leaving the two of them to stand quietly.

But the silence doesn’t last long at all. Barb steps into the breakroom and lets the door bang shut softly behind her. “Finally.”

Robin’s brow raises as Barb makes her way over, stepping up into her. Robin’s back connects with the soda machine in a soft smack as Barb places a hand on her hip and the column of her neck and rests her forehead right against Robin’s. Laughing softly. “I’ve been wanting to say the same thing..” she pauses, swallowing down a lump in her throat and fighting off a swarm of butterflies that suddenly fill her stomach, “And I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day Nancy introduced us I was just.. Y ou know how hard it is, right? To be like this?”

Robin nods. Melting herself into Barb as her hand raises, carding fingers over Barb’s scalp. “I love you, B. And I don’t care who says it’s wrong or we’re wrong and I can’t like.. I can’t fight it anymore.”

“I love you too, Robbie.” Barb responds, their mouths crashing against each other, the tips of their noses banging against each other’s nose as Barb’s hand clutches the front of Robin’s favorite black shirt and she uses her grip to pull Robin into her completely. The kiss deepens, both girls seeing stars as it comes to a gentle end and they’re left to stare at each other and take it all in. 

“Do you want to go to the drive in with me later? And not just as friends.. I want to hold your hand and I wanna feel your head on my shoulder. I wanna lay my head in your lap and stargaze after.” Barb mumbles softly, Robin giggling and turning red in the face as she’s so flustered for once that words completely fail her. “I can’t believe this is really happening, I.. I tried to plan so many times in my head how I’d tell you.”

“You can make it up to me.” Barb teases gently, a hand raised to caress Robin’s face.

“I will. I promise. As much as you want, as long as it takes.” 

CONTINUED

“If you want the car, it's parked outside Family Video.”

“You’ll bring it to me, Steve.”

“If you want the car, James, you’ll come get it.” Steve flips off the phone and slams it back down on the cradle and you look at him in concern. Stevie’s coloring at the desk nearby and Steve steps up into you, squeezing your hips in his hands. Because you make him calmer. You make him feel better.

And right now, that’s what he needs.

Stevie slips out of the chair and wanders over, holding up the coloring sheet she’s just finished to him. “I make you picture.”

He smiles. Takes a few deep breaths and scoops her up so that she can show him the picture. 

The cab pulls to a stop outside the video store and Steve tenses up all over. You're staring up at him in concern. "Everything okay, Steve?" you question.

"That's my mom. And I didn't think either of 'em would show up this quick." he laughs and the sound is bitter. "It's the car, they're getting something, of course they're gonna show up this time." the hurt and sarcasm in his voice is enough to make you completely forget your normal reservation and reach down, letting your fingers mesh with his as he takes a few deep breaths.

Robin and Barb wander out trying to straighten themselves up and when Robin recognizes Steve's mom, she gives him a concerned look. "Steve?"

"It's okay, Robbie." Steve is shrugging as if it's nothing but he's watching his mom try keys and stop as if she's holding back tears. He feels like shit but everything he said needed to come out because everything he said is the biggest reason he's struggled so long. Its the reason he had such a hard time letting go when he shouldn't have.

Then his mom looks up and right at him. Lingering in front of the store like she wants to come in but she doesn't dare. She manages a weak smile when she sees him with your daughter in his arms and the way you've stepped as close as you can to her son…like you want to protect him and you love him. Her mind is eased and maybe she stands there long enough to realize that somehow, entirely on his own, her son grew up. Became so much more mature than she could have ever hoped.

And she longs to go inside, to say something before she leaves town on her own for a while, but she wants to give him time before she reaches out. She needs to work through everything for herself too. And it's selfish but she wants to give her son time to cool down. Because he was honest but the harsh words stung just a little too much and right now, she can't handle it.

Steve doesn't see her watching but you do. And it only makes you step a little closer. Squeezing the hand beneath yours. "Hey..it'll be fine. Screw them."

And it's easy for you to say. So easy. Too easy. But you know it kills him. He's sweeter. So much sweeter. More sensitive. It's the whole reason you love him.

Watching him deal with this kills you. And there's only so much you can do. ,,but I can do something." the thought comes. 

"Steve.. it'll be okay. It's okay not to be okay." you mumble quietly. He shrugs. "I'm fine. I said what I needed to."

Stevie puts her arms around his neck to hug him and he lets her, laughing quietly. Robin looks from Steve and the way he's standing so close right now, to you as she mouths, "Your turn."

And she's not wrong. You love him. The one thing that stops you is knowing he deserves better. 

CONTINUED

" There's been a small change of plans, I am terribly sorry to do this on short notice, but we'd like the things on this list kept separate from the other things in the house. They need to be taken to this address." Penelope Harrington is calm and smiling as she charms the moving company in the same way she charmed the owner of the apartment complex her son will be moving into soon. 

It's not nearly enough but she hopes it's something to help the two of you start out. She slips out the letter she's spent all afternoon writing and pushes it towards the clerk. "I'd like this to be put in one of the boxes too."

"Yeah, alright. All this is gonna cost ya eighty extra." the young clerk tells her and she slides some money across to him. "Thank you for doing this."

CONTINUED

"Okay, where the hell are we going?" Steve's laughing as you lead him down to the duck pond at the park. "Steve, it's called a surprise." you answer, leading him by the hand.

Nancy leans against the trunk of a tree behind the two of you and she's laughing to herself. She'd come to say goodbye but watching you with him feels like she's intruding on an intimate moment so she turns and walks away. 

You gently push him down to a sitting position on the old comforter. Then you lean into him and raise the scarf you had tied over his eyes and when he sees the Enzos takeout container, he doesn't know what to say. Or do, this is a first for him. Normally, this is what he'd do.

As you're raising the scarf up, you can't resist the urge to gingerly just barely caress his cheek. His breath hangs and he has to fight to keep himself in control of his emotions.

"I, uh.. you had a bad day. I-i.. I wanted to do something." you explain, wishing that you could just do it already, say and do what you want to so badly.

Steve bites his lip as he gets lost in your eyes, going quiet. You're staring right back. "Hope your hungry because I smelled their pasta and I may have went crazy." -it's an attempt to make conversation without it being awkward.

"You didn't have to do this.."

"I know." you shrug, "Wanted to." you laugh softly as you look over at him. "Are you really okay, Steve?" you question, gazing at him in concern. 

He shrugs. "Kind of. I've had a long time to get used to it."

"To what?"

"Being alone." he shrugs. You reach out, gently gripping his jaw. "You're not, y'know. You have Robin.. those kids, they adore you.." you go quiet. "Stevie loves you. And you're my friend too, Steve."

You wish you could just get the nerve to say what you really mean. Both of you sit there quietly. You shift to lean against him and speak up quietly. " Least we won't turn into our parents."

Steve nods in agreement and chuckles quietly. "That's true."

He slips an arm around you and it pulls you into his side a little better. "Thank you..for this."

"I couldn't just do nothing. I could tell it was bothering you." you admit, going quiet. 

And if he thought he was falling head over feet before, he was wrong. He's falling even more in love now, blown away by you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x buckleyadjacent!fem reader #steve harrington x singlemom!fem reader #my writing ● steve harrington #<- warnings | swearing + single mom/kid + other stuff see above #<- warning | fem reader ( outfits + personality + past + related to a canon character ) #<- heavily characterized female reader.