#'the friendly orderly' my ass

[can-of-pringles]

POV: Me telling my mom that "Peter Ballard" is in fact his alias story wise despite Netflix saying it was just for casting

#she agrees with me 😌 #peter ballard #HE COULDN'T BE CALLED HIS ORIGINAL NAME CAUSE HE'S LEGALLY DECEASED #CERTAINLY COULDN'T BE CALLED 001 #'the friendly orderly' my ass #get it together Netflix

[jokenotfunny]

Eddie x platonic!experiment!reader

hii i haven’t been able to get this out of my head. so i decided to write it down 😊 also i needed this right now because the duffers have me messed UP

also this is my first time writing so 🫣

and another thing is being that i’m black, i envision the reader as black. but anybody could read this being that i won’t put anything physical appearance-specific other than reader’s hair, which she ends up growing to be similar to eddie’s but honestly i feel like any race can have that hairstyle just different textures so 🫶🏾

(reader is the same age as el being that they’re “sisters” and it’s pretty much a similar dynamic as dustin and steve because i love their dynamic so much 😭)

summary : pretty much the same plot of el meeting the boys and how they were when they first met except it’s reader and eddie

part 2 🤍

part 1 : how they met

- so you’re in the same friend group as dustin , lucas , mike etc.,

- but FIRST we of course need the backstory

- so. you were born in 1971 and lived a pretty ordinary life in Illinois until your parents could no longer handle things setting aflame or go flying across the room without you ever picking it up whenever you lost your temper.

- so after many calls, doctor’s appointments and evaluations (and maybe some attempted exorcisms 😧), you were finally referred to dr. brenner who (of course) was very quick to take you in and “help” you.

- a 3 year old you is now residing in hawkins national laboratory , where you met el, 008 (kali), and the very friendly orderly named Peter.

- now. fast forwarding to 1983, the year that you and 011 escaped hawkins lab and the year that will (🫶🏾) went missing.

- unfortunately not long after you two had left the lab together, you lost each other in the chaos of being in a new environment:(

- as you’re wandering around this new environment (being that you haven’t really been outside in years) you’re tired beat and bruised from wandering around in a forest for about 2 days (you’ve honestly lost count) and just want to find your sister.

- you’re starting to lose hope when you begin to hear an unfamiliar sound in the distance. it’s unlike anything you’ve ever heard before!

- it stimulates your ears in such a way that, little 12 year old you just can’t help but to follow it.

- as you being to get closer to this peculiar sound, you realize that you’re no longer in the woods, but are now on the outskirts of a trailer park .

- as you walk through this new place (fear at the back of your mind of being in a strange place at night nonetheless) determined to find the cause of this noise,

-you see in the distance a boy not much older than you sitting on a picnic table, holding a large object in his hand and- “oh my gosh, the noise is coming from that thing!“ you think as you slowly walk over.

- now from a 16 year old eddie’s pov, he knew that playing his guitar at 10 p.m wasn’t exactly ideal, but his uncle wasn’t home and he was bored ! and if any of his neighbors had a problem with it , especially mrs. nolan (that old hag) they could simply come outside and tell him to shut up. (not that he would listen.

- so when he heard footsteps coming towards him, he figured that’s exactly what was about to happen so imagine his surprise when he looked up and saw some kid in a hospital gown, with a shaved head and no shoes?! he was appalled!

- so back to you now.

- instead of being skeptical of the boy in front of you, you’re eyeing the weird thing in his hands, with caution. only being able to think “what is that?” “can it hurt me?” and “i want to keep hearing that sound”

- your thoughts now being cut off by this boy in front of you.

eddie : “ummm… hi?”

you : “🧍🏾‍♀️”

- eddie’s completely freaked out at this point becauseeeee who the hell is this??? is he about to get murdered??? is this what he gets for trying to antagonize that old ass mrs. nolan???

- so he slowly puts his guitar to the side and hops off the table

- of course you noticing this, which automatically puts you in fight or flight mode because this guy is bigger than you and could be just like papa and the bad men.

“hey, are you okay? do you need help? a-are you hurt or something?” he trails off noticing the cuts and bruises on your bare legs and the dried up blood under your nose. 

- he remembered seeing on the news his uncle had it on over the past few days of kids being abused and/or abducted in nearby towns and immediately thought that this was the case. and being that this kid looked scared from just him getting up and walking towards them he figured that was the case.

“i-i’m not gonna hurt you i swear. what’s your name?”

“…”

- seeing you jump at the slightest sound and looking around frantically when other trailers lights began turning on at the previous commotion he figured they should probably go somewhere more private.

- he put his hands up to show that he meant no harm.

“you should come inside before anyone sees you, some neighbors’ll be quick to call the cops the second they see something weird so..”

- as you were about to run away the closer he got the sound of something howling in the distance made you jump towards him in fear and he decided it’d be best to lead you into the trailer and away from potential prying eyes. (damn mrs. nolan and her nosy ass)

- he held his hand out for you to take , which you did , as he guided you into his trailer.

- short time skip brought to you by eddie giving you clothes to change into (it was a short sleeved van halen shirt and sweatpants which is important information to know for later) and him completely freaking out when you tried to undress directly in front of him.

“oh my gosh, oh my gosh- what the hellll? don’t just do that!”

- of course at the sound of him raising his voice from the calm tone he was using before, you immediately cowered away from him, thinking you did something wrong.

“i’m sorry, it’s just… you shouldn’t just do… that. you know in front of people especially guys you don’t know. get it?” he said repeating the movements you had previously done.

“so i’ll be right outside this door andd you just knock when you’re finished changing okay?” awkwardly putting his thumbs up and not even waiting for an answer before he walked out and closed the door behind him

another timeskip to you and eddie now sitting at his dining room table, as he tried to get you to answer his questions while having you eat some left over pizza, that he had sitting out from several hours prior

- or just really say anything at all at this point

- he thought about taking the pizza from you if you didn’t answer his questions but you were really fucking it up (😭) and he was absolutely astonished

“have you never tried pizza before?”

- you slowly shook your head at him. but to him that’s progress so!

“soooo my name’s eddie. what’s your name?”

- when you just blankly stared at him while eating he figured this wasn’t going to be a very productive conversation until you set the slice down, held out your arm and pointed at the inside of your wrist.

-he saw what looked like ink on the inside part of your wrist.

“007?” what’s that mean?

when you pointed to yourself and softly said “me” he almost missed it.

“wait, i’m sorry. you? like your name is seven, like the numb-“ he stopped himself. starting to think that whatever or whoever this girl was involved with was wayyy beyond his original understanding.

- noticing that the topic was making you uncomfortable he decided to let you sleep for the night so they could hopefully talk more in the morning.

- the next morning he woke up to the sound of a guitar playing and saw you sitting on the floor in front of his bed, holding it the same way he was when you found him the night before. except you were just staring at it and tentatively pulling the strings and letting them snap against the wood.

- now normally seeing anybody handle any type of guitar, (especially his) like that would’ve sent him into an aneurysm. but the more he thought about it, the more he realized you probably didn’t know any better as crazy as it sounded to him.

“you like it?” he asked.

- having not heard him get up or notice him sit down next to her she jumped and quickly put it down on the floor

“i’m sorry” you said looking down in shame at touching his stuff without asking. you just wanted to hear the pretty sounds from the night before

“hey it’s okay, i mean it is pretty cool isn’t it” he said picking it up off the ground and started playing the beginning of some song

“see, you don’t pull the strings like that,” he said replicating what you were doing minutes prior. “you go like this see?”

“play.. one from last night” you said

“what?” he asked, looking confused before whispering to himself “one from last night…oh! sorry.” he apologized because his slight outburst made her jump.

“the one from last night when you walked up to me! yeah?” she nodded

thus that led to a day’s worth of guitar lessons and showing you all of his favorite songs and bands as you listened intently and watched as he danced around to each song.

“like the shirt you’re wearing! van halen? see look .” he showed you each of the members and saying their names. “and last but certainly not least! eddie van halen!”

“eddie…that is your name 🫵🏾” you looked at him intently

“huh? oh! well i mean yeah, we have the same name but everybody knows that i’m the original of course.” he pshhed. trying not to get too excited at the fact that you were opening up to him more

- he then went on to show you black sabbath, metallica, and all of his favorites throughout the rest of the morning.

- the one that stuck out to you the most was “children of the grave” from black sabbath’s master of reality album. which also happened to be the one he was playing the previous night that you heard.

he figured you liked it a lot (when for some reason everytime he left the room and it neared the end of the song it would start rewinding even though he swore he never saw you get uo to rewind it.) to the point where he put the tape into one of his (too many) walkman’s and let you listen to it in your ears instead of out loud.

- he didn’t want any noise complaints from that goddamn, old ass, mrs. nolan (no seriously what is his beef with her 🗿) and for her to call the police

he also told you the story of ozzy osbourne biting the head off of a bat with a very enthusiastic reenactment of it.

“gosh that shit was so metal” he said nostalgically.

“metal?” you repeated

“yeah.. it means like hardcore you know, but in a good way! metal 🤟🏻” he said sticking his tongue out

“ metal 🤟🏾” you said copying him and his hand gesture making him chuckle.

“so we should think of some nicknames for you, because i don’t really think we should walk around calling you seven, huh?” he seemed to be thinking really hard, putting his hand to his chin in a “🤔” way. you copying him as you stared at each other.

“sev? that sounds cool or how abouttttt van! you know because of the van halen shirt i gave you. or! how about dio or ozzy! from black sabbath! but since you’re a girl, how about dia or ozz!” he rambled enthusiastically

- you just nodded your head yes to each of them. making eddie burst out laughing much to your confusion.

“well i think you deserve an award for being the bearer of so many names milady.” he jumped up and jogged into his room before coming back with something behind his back.

“butttt since i have no medals or trophies to give you, i figured this should be good.” he said handing you his walkman with the children of the grave cassette tape in it.

“consider it a gift from “the great sir eddie munson” he said bowing theatrically making you laugh as he showed you wear to connect it to your outfit and how to operate it.

you stayed with eddie for about 3 or 4 days. and eddie being eddie, figured that you were more important than school at the moment so he just simply… didn’t go.

- he taught you how to do things that he considered basic life skills.

playing children of the grave on guitar

headbanging without hair | he was real adamant on that one because :

“imagine when you finally do get hair, you’ll be a fucking pro kid, i’m tellin ya!”

“fucking pro!” you repeated determinedly

“oooh umm don’t say that! don’t say that!”

he even took you to main street for a few hours. (but not without an amazing disguise of course ;)

now when his uncle finally came home early one day he wasn’t too pleased with the finding out that eddie had been skipping school. that disappointment was quickly replaced with confusion, at walking in and seeing a young girl with a buzz cut in his nephew’s clothes sitting at their table while eddie looked to be enthusiastically explaining “that damned board game” (dungeons and dragons) to her.

“h-hey uncle wayne, um i can explain everything , this is seven-“

“i think we should talk son. now”

without giving him a chance to explain, wayne dragged eddie to his room, slamming the door behind them, leaving you in the dining room by yourself, where you could only listen to the back and forth between the two.

“what the hell is going on eddie!?”

“listen she came up a few nights ago wearing some hospital clothes, and-and-and with a bunch of cuts and bruises, man! she needed help! he confessed

“then you call the police edward!-“

“jesus christ” eddie rolled his eyes, “since when are they any help!” he wasn’t actually asking, because he knew exactly how much “help” they could be

“i’m sure chief hopper would be glad to help her get back to where she needs to be, but she can’t just stay here!

“why not!?”

“ ”why not”?! they could think that you kidnapped this girl! or worse you could be harboring a damn fugitive for all we know!-“

“i didn’t! and a fugitive?! seriously? she’s a child! i- this is unbelievable!” you heard the door open back and eddie stomp back into the dining room where you were with his uncle trailing right behind him.

as they continued to argue in front of you, and the argument continued to get more and more heated , a moment passed where wayne raised his hands to put his face in his palms but you were too quick to react, thinking that he was going to put his hands on eddie and raised your hand, sending wayne flying across the room and hitting the wall with a loud and strong thud that shook the trailer.

- as you realized what you just did and touched the blood that began to drip from your nose eddie started to yell.

“oh my god! jesus h. christ! what the fuck was that man!” he looked over at you with what looked like fear on his face, before he ran to his uncle to make sure he was okay, as his uncle just stared at you in pure shock.

“i-i thought he was going to hurt you, i didn’t mean too i’m sorry!” you yelled and before they could respond you panicked and ran out of the trailer.

“sev! sev, wait it’s okay! you don’t have to run!” eddie yelled once he overcame the initial shock and confusion of what just happened, as he ran after you. but by the time he got outside you were nowhere to be seen.

2 weeks had passed and eddie looked for you non-stop when he wasn’t in school, but no sign of you. and all the hype was currently around looking for the byers kid who was reported missing the day after he met you.

- he would’ve thought he had just made you up in his imagination if not for the slight dent in the wall from where his uncle flew into. but what really reminded him of you being real was when one day his uncle came home with something for him

- eddie was sat on his bed retuning his guitar, when his uncle came and leaned against the doorway.

“hey eds i’m ‘bout to head out, try not to stay up too late alright?”

“okay. have a good night.” he said without looking up from what he was doing.

- you see eddie hadn’t spoken about what happened that day, since that day, so ultimately wayne didn’t either, not exactly knowing what to say about it. therefore they didn’t really have any type of conversation since that day.

“and um, i haven’t been able to catch ya but,” he tossed a manila folder next to him. “garrett from the photo shop caught me at the grocery store the other day, gave me that, said you never came to pick those up so he asked me to bring ‘em to ya.”

“i don’t remember developing any pictures but, thanks wayne, i’ll look at them.” giving a half-hearted smile before going back to what he was doing.

“alright kid, see ya later” wayne said walking out.

- the second eddie heard the front door close , and his uncle pull off in his car, he hung his guitar up and picked up the folder.

- he opened it, pulled out the prints, and his eyes widened as they immediately teared up, nearly breaking down at the sight before him.

- a picture of you and him at the general store sat in his hands the both of you doing the 🤟🏾pose he taught you with your tongues out.

- now he wasn’t only crying because he was upset that you were gone possibly forever and without a goodbye

- and because you were probably out there thinking he hated you

- he was also crying of relief at the fact that he wasn’t crazy and that you actually exist and that he had proof of it

- now this wasn’t proof to show you off or anything, he didn’t even plant on showing anybody the picture

- but proof that he had met what he thinks was the coolest kid ever and could only hope that you were doing okay wherever you ended up.

- he quickly grabbed a marker and wrote on the back of the print “eddie & van nov. 1983” pinning it next to where he would hang his guitar.

- eddie was happy that he had something to remember you by, being that he didn’t think he would ever see you again.

- and he didn’t. see you again that is. and you didn’t seem him either

.- not for another 3 years at least.

- but that’s a story for another time i guess 🤭

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x platonic!reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x poc reader

[piduai]

now I gotta see how everyone in GK would be in an office setting..especially my toxic king usami

tsurumi: head of an important but insane people department (like sales) & everyone under him is obsessed with him and SEETHING each time his wife drops by the office. he is a toxic boss that encourages unhealthy competition and drama and is the king of micromanaging though he does it in secret. he knows everyone's business and has treated Each of the employees under him & as well as a few from other departments to dinners just to learn about them and their weaknesses. he's in his element during company parties/nomikais because he doesn't drink but he listens. and he talks. and manipulates. he likes setting people against each other just for fun. but he's also GOOD at his job and his dept's performance is always through the roof though the turnover rate is no joke because he burns people out easily

usami: he's good at his job, great even, because he wants to impress tsurumi and be his number one candy baby. has slept with half of the women and a quarter of the men in the office. is also a terrible gossip, the kind of guy who just walks around and talks shit about people all the fucking time. has a nasty habit of bullying newbies tsurumi shows too much interest in, though he swears it's in good faith if he gets caught, though usually he doesn't. extremely passive-aggressive but also very friendly and sociable if he needs/wants to be, he's the master of putting on the customer service smile. jerks off in the office bathroom 5 times a day, 7 if tsurumi praises him

kikuta: a good for nothing moron who somehow got a rather high position despite being incompetent. his underlings love him though, he may be a shit boss who can't learn how to filter stuff in excel but he's a great amiable guy who sometimes treats them to meals and is a fun chat. he takes 3 smoking breaks per hour and always stinks of that shit, and stinks up any place he goes to too because the stuff he smokes is atomic. tsurumi hates his ass and hates having to do work with his department because the papers kikuta touched Will stink of tobacco. honestly nobody really knows how he manages to keep his job because he screws up sooo much, people just like him and take pity on him

sugimoto: would NOT work in an office ever because his anger management is simply not good and he'd get in physical fights over trivial shit for which he'd get fired. the closest would be delivery guy of stuff like stationery or company bentos or the post or something, i think he'd be fine with carrying stuff around. he smiled at ogata once (at the woman behind him actually) which led to ogata fantasizing about locking him in a shipping container and torturing him there for a year. so now each time the handsome and friendly delivery guy makes the deliveries ogata hides somewhere

ogata: does not work in the insane people department (sales) due to his introverted nature but has been to the tsurudinner which left him unhinged. is the IT guy backup (being the main IT guy means fixing people's computers which he doesn't care about) and is generally great, the company servers are thriving, the cloud is neat and orderly, nobody could complain. would not participate in a company party/nomikai with a gun to his head. leaves work exactly on time, not a minute later, for which everyone resents him (on top of being a creep and a weirdo and having bad vibes). women in the office have learnt to steer clear of him because way too often he claims he never received the important papers they have personally handed to him which has proven to be a problem on multiple occasions

kiroranke: terrible office flirt who knocked up at least two women and humbly paid for their abortions (#prochoice #malefeminist). has been pinning after both wilk and sofia (both are his superiors) for yearssss tho neither will give him the time of the day #sad. is some kind of sub-chief/second in command, not at the top of the food chain but not a nobody either, which is why his pleas of going to a union falls on deaf ears because for people higher than him it's against their interests, while people lower than him think they're too insignificant to be the catalysts of change and are simultaneously afraid of losing their jobs. loves threatening to call the labor standards inspection on his bosses each time they get out of line which is why they don't really like him, but he's too good at his job & knows what he's doing so they can't lay him off

#anon

[bltzgore]

An experimental drabble in second person from the perspective of a highly manipulative and intelligent whumper (in a mental facitlity)

Tw: language, dehumanizing language, second person, minor gore, Just manipulation here no voilence yet

Next ->

Who am I? Why am I here? Such stupid questions, people always focus on stupid questions, the small picture shit. Well you fuckers aren’t going to get off my ass 'til I tell you anyway, so lets get this shit show on the road.

The name is Casey, I have other ones but that’s the only one you and anyone else who asks is getting. As of right now I am clinically insane. My most recent residence REDACTED Hospital for the criminally insane was actually a pretty cozy place. The beds weren't bad, you only wake up ready to tear your back out half the time. The food hadn’t killed anyone in the past week, at least not that they could prove. To top it off the place was rift with overly trusting orderlies and highly malleable lunatic minds.

In short, I ran that shit hole.

Why would I need you to understand? You won’t. It isn't worth the time I’d waste showing you my grand design in all of its unattainable glory. What’s the Bible say about this shit? My ways something something higher than your ways? Yeah. That. Some creatures are just fundamentally lower than others. But that’s ok, it's like a pet. You still love your dog or cat, you just don’t discuss books with them actually expecting to get any kind of response. They can’t understand a thing, they just like that you’re giving them your attention. 

That’s you. A happy little dog who looked up at me with eyes that couldn’t comprehend the things I planned to do to you.

I never noticed you back then, not really. In the same way I don’t notice an ant unless they’re biting me. I didn’t notice you until you bit me. I was well into a game of family friendly poker. My opponents had plenty on the line, I suppose I did too, but I didn’t really. Because you only have risk if you know you can lose. 

You must have used your invisibility to your advantage, because until you walked up to the table and said it no one had known you were watching. 

“She’s cheating.” You had this shit eating smirk, like you thought you had some kind of power, like you expected me to crumble. You didn’t know much about me then.

“I am?” 

“I saw the card in your pocket!”

The other occupants at the table started to demand proof of me. Two of them got up, and the third gave me a dirty look.

I saw your neck in that moment and stifled the shutter that came over me at the thought of what lay beneath that skin. “I’m sorry. What did you- oh. I know. Yes, let me explain.” I’ve never been caught cheating, because I’m not stupid. I plan for everything.

I showed you and them my “good luck charm.”   

“My grandfather gave it to me.” I held up the card, old and worn, and torn in the corner. “I like to touch it when I’m stressed. He was a poker champ and this is the last card I have from his deck. It’s stupid, but I guess I’m a little sentimental.”

I watched the suspicion leave their eyes, but not yours. You didn’t press it, you pretended you were satisfied. Your apology was hollow, not forced, but not genuine. I know, because all the armatures sound like that. You fucked off and I won the hand.

I had already decided I wanted to make you pay for interfering in the matters of higher powers. I just hadn’t decided how yet. What I didn’t know was that you weren’t done with me either. But like the armature you are, you just up and talked to me. 

You set your hips against the wall first, then your lower back, but you wouldn’t let your shoulders against it. “That wasn’t the card I saw.” You sounded like a frustrated child.

I decided to fish, I wasn’t sure how much you understood or were capable of understanding me yet. I needed to get a little dirty and dig. “Really? That’s the only card I have in my pocket.” I’m a much better liar than you, but to your credit you were arrogant and stubborn. 

“I’m sure it is. But I didn’t want to make you strip in the common room.”

I felt my chest heat up, an engine just starting to get some fire in it. I welcomed a distraction in my down time. I let a grin slip, and made sure you saw it. “Really? I’d have done it voluntarily for 20 bucks.”

“You keep them down your pants?”

“Among other places.” 

“Stop cheating.”

“Why?” 

“Cause next time I’ll pants you.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want me to cheat? It’s just another way to win the game.”

“It’s not fair.”

Oh. You had morals.

“The hell would I play fair for? I don’t play for fun sweetheart, I play to win.”

You wanted more distance between us, I could feel it. I don’t like being close to people, it’s hot and sweaty, but I know exactly how it makes others feel. And I never forfeit a valuable asset. I was taller than you, stronger than you, smarter than you. And you knew it.

You sighed, your discomfort made you fidgety, and your already scattered eye contact lessened. “Just don’t do it. They have little enough as is.” You sighed and started to leave, you didn’t think your words meant a thing. You were right, but I was curious.

“Anything for you sweetheart.” I watched you leave, and waited to see if you would live up to my expectations. You didn’t look back.

Watching you walk away, I decided it was going to be you. I needed it to be you. I wanted to dissect you. Take a crowbar to your brain, pull it apart piece by shining red piece, and watch you crumble before me. I found a new game. 

#whumper #whumpee #whump #whump drabble #whump scenario #whumper pov #second person pov #second person narration #institute whump #asylum whump #mental institute whump #tw language #Casey/Sam

[nebulousfishgills]

Emily with Henry and Emily with Caius please, I want to see where all the differences lie...

5, 7, 10, 11, 20, 26, 32 (idk if Twilight vampires can get drunk but just pretend), 38, 40, 46

Thanks for the numbers, bestie! I would have answered this sooner but I got rly busy all of a sudden lol. Also I knew answering this ask in full would take a while.* Anyways, two ships so we're gonna do two sections... so you bet your ass I'm adding a cut.

I'll do the tiny text as well to save room... and one meme/shitpost each for the lulz (featuring shoddy edits of FC Olivia Cooke as Emily) because I don't know where else to post these lol... I have many more beyond this if you're interested.

*It did, I was working on this for like, two and a half hours, probably longer...

Emily and Henry

5 - Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

Honestly, I can only think of one time off the top of my head where they had a really serious argument, and that was their famous "you're just being paranoid" "you're getting sucked in by these weird vampire people" fight. Other than that, maybe the occasional friendly squabble as kids over who cheated at chess and the like.

7 - How often do they say 'I love you?'

That depends on where in the timeline we are. When they're still trapped in the lab, very infrequently since they don't want Brenner suspecting they could be involved together in any way. When they sneak into each other's rooms, sure, maybe a couple times, but that doesn't happen that often. Post Upside-Down Banishment, I think the habit of not directly saying I Love You kinda carries over, but since they're more free to do and say what they want, it does happen a bit more frequently. They show love in other ways.

10 - Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

Their mutual desire to reshape the world and dislike of the human race lol. But in fairness to the question, they both like to draw, especially when they were the experiments and not the orderlies. They both like drawing what they see and what they hope to eventually see in their so-called perfect world. I have a headcanon that Emily keeps a sketchbook on her, even when she's poking around the high school in the Overworld. It's full of landscapes, portraits of Henry (partially so she remembers his human face), the occasional erratic Mind Flayer doodle, and the drawing of the Creel House she did as a child is taped to the inside back cover.

They also both have an appreciation for nature, both in the Overworld and in the Upside-Down. You cannot convince me otherwise that they don't play games with Demodogs and Emily hasn't given every single one of her bats names.

11 - How do they feel about nicknames/pet names?

This is an interesting question because I've thought extensively about this. When I was originally conceptualizing their dynamic, I just could not for the life of me figure out what pet names they would hypothetically use. Henry just didn't seem like a guy who would use terms of endearment like that (or in general, Henry using pet names just doesn't seem right to me)... and that's when I realized their names are the terms of endearment. They've both had their names stripped away and replaced by numbers, taking away their humanity. That first step of trust between them was sharing their real names and covertly using them when Brenner wasn't around. Their names are very important to them, so calling each other something other than their names feels wrong... so yes and no?

20 - How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

The surefire way to get Emily to calm down/relax/chill the fuck out is to play with her hair. This is one of the few traits of hers I passed on from myself. Maybe it's a reflex from having it shaved at one point, but many a time, Henry has just finger combed her hair or scratched her scalp to get her to calm down after god knows what kind of shit happened. Henry probably learned to braid hair so he can just braid and unbraid her hair when needed... maybe he learned it from Alice?

Henry's not one who usually needs the comforting since he... I don't want to say let's things slide off his back, but it's more like he simmers until the pressure cooker just explodes (ex. The incident of September 8th). But if I had to take a guess, I could see Emily just performing some kind of physical contact, usually a hug, hand squeeze, or small kiss to just ground Henry back to reality. They're both very touch starved and Brenner's rules don't help at all, so they have to get that shit in where they can.

26 - What sacrifices do they make for the other?

Alexa, play 'If You Love Me, Let Me Go' (or whatever the song's title is).

No, but in all seriousness, I feel like they both have had to sacrifice many things for both each other and for the advancement of their goals. Emily in theory has a shot at living a somewhat okay life with the 'friends' she's made (Eddie doesn't need sarcastic quotes, they're real friends despite what Emily herself may think or not) on the Overworld since she can get up there, yet she chooses not to, prefering to spend more time in the Upside Down with Henry since for multiple reasons, he can't leave.

I don't want to say Henry's the more dependent one of the two (he is), but it's hard to pick out any one thing Henry's truly sacrificed for Emily other than the previously alluded to "letting her go" thing compared to what she's given up for him. In reality they both mutually gave up a lot of things for their goals like their humanities (nameless numbers aside).

32 - Do either of them drink? Who's the lightweight/who's the caretaker?

Canonically it's been stated multiple times that Emily doesn't drink or do drugs (she berates Eddie for it constantly) because a scrambled mind means she's disconnected from her abilities, something she especially hates after Brenner's Soteria implants. Henry's probably the same way.

But for shits and giggles, let's do a hypothetical. Henry's a much lighter weight than Emily would be. I could understand how someone could see him as an angry drunk, but I think Henry just blubbers and essentially behaves like a sad, wet cat. Emily can and would drag him home and let him cling to her while he lets it all out. I think Emily would be the more aggressive drunk. I can see Emily getting into a bar fight and Henry (or Eddie since he was probably the one to drag her there) having to pull her away and then be forced to deal with arguably something worse than a drunk Emily: a hungover one.

40 - Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

As far as getting and staying together, no. They'd have lost their minds without having each other to rely on. But I think on occasion Henry regrets not warning Emily about what really went on in the lab when Brenner was persuading her to stay. They wouldn't have bonded or even formally met if so and who knows where else little orphan Emily would have ended up otherwise.

And I think once or twice they moreso regret not being able to have the relationship they really wanted, away from the lab and allowed to grow naturally. They're both steadfast in their hatred of the human system, but I'm positive they've both at least entertained the fantasy of having met as kids at school, falling in love in the real world in the 'proper' way, and then living in the Creel House as a real family unit after they had Eleven/Jane/Elaine the way they should have. It's the "In another life, I would have liked doing taxes and laundry with you" trope, just an incredibly angsty variant of it because even if they had that chance in circumstance (aka no lab to imprison them in), their views on the human system would prevent that almost entirely.

46 - Do they consider the relationship casual or serious? Is the answer different depending on who you ask? Why?

There's no question that they see this very seriously; it's all they have really. There isn't anything casual or normal about the kind of bond they have with each other. As I said, I think Henry's more dependent on Emily than the other way around, but they're both extremely attached to each other. Their relationship is the most important thing to them at the end of the day, even more than their goals because their plans may fail, but they will still have each other...

---

And on that admittedly ironic note let's move on to...

Emily and Caius

(I just made this one a couple hours ago lmao)

5 - Do they argue often? If so, what do they argue about?

Honestly? I don't see them arguing much since more often than not they're virtually on the same page. Maybe it's not so much arguments as it is "one of them is being stubborn and the other has to get them to do what they're supposed to." Emily's usually this hypothetical 'stubborn' one, though, because she's still the same Emily who likes to rebel against the system (even if now she's part of the people creating it) and tries to get out of her, quote, "stupid duties." She's a... we'll call it a free spirit. Nine times out of ten this means Caius has to bribe her in some way to handle her responsibilities, not that he minds that, I don't think.

7 - How often do they say 'I love you?'

The cool thing is they can say it in many different languages to keep it interesting. I would say often, but not to the point that it could be considered annoying to others. They don't do that cheesy "I love you" "I love you more" "I love you most" bullshit (unless they're actively trying to be annoying because someone's being an asshole about boundaries... Aro). But they say it enough and can show it via other means without verbalizing it.

Caius says it out loud more often though because Emily's lacked affection aside from Henry for her entire life. That touch-starved insecurity about being able to receive proper love is just part of who she is. She's frozen in time with that insecurity and Caius makes it a point to pick up that slack to remind her that she can and is loved.

10 - Do they share any hobbies or interests? How do these things bring them together?

🔥Arson🔥

In all seriousness, though, once again art is a connective tissue. I don't know how this headcanon started or got so widespread, but people say Caius is a painter (and I'm obsessed with this idea) and Emily still draws. They teach each other their prefered mediums, so Caius has helped Emily learn to paint while she introduces him to the benefits of having a simple sketchbook and pencils for capturing moments.

I think there's also that shared love of learning and sharing stories since Emily's been locked out of the world at large for most of her life save for the books she read when hiding in the library when she was homeless. I headcanon Caius as a history buff (especially when it comes to wars and general combat because we all agree the dude's a warrior, full send) and Emily just likes hearing all these accounts and events since there's just so much she doesn't know about the world. "I wanna know about the strangers like me." That, and she likes hearing the myths, legends, and stories that come with that.

I like to think that a popular story that Caius grew up on, then passed on to Emily to become her favorite tale is the story the original God of War games told (since I fuckin love that franchise so let me have my easter eggs). She never gets tired of hearing about Kratos' journey.

11 - How do they feel about nicknames/pet names?

Emily's general philosophy on pet names stays largely consistent. She doesn't really call Caius any cute names very often, maybe in front of other people to put up a more sickly sweet front once in a while. She moreso uses terms of endearment in a mocking/sarcastic way (there's a perfect example that comes much later on in Necrosis, but for spoilers' sake I'll keep that to myself. Emily uses nicknames sometimes, occasionally calling Sulpicia simply "Picia" and she refers to Athenodora as "Thena" since Caius called her that or Dora since her name is a bit of a mouthful.

Speaking of, on the other side of it, Caius' favorite pet name for Emily is Agapé, or one of the Greek words for love. Sometimes he calls her 'love' or 'my love' in English and some other languages. Once in a while he'll call her a queen in various languages (since technically she is). I think it's just another way Caius hammers home his affection for her, a la what I said for bullet point 7. Though, sometimes Caius calls her by her name when he needs her attention for something important or serious (like to snap her out of a frenzy for example). It's like a softer version of the dreaded "Middle Name" when you're in trouble.

20 - How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Again, the go-to for calming Emily down is her hair. But since her traits are exemplified because of her transformation, full physical contact is also a viable option. Sort of like what I said for Henry, a hug or kiss will work magic. I hesitate to say cuddles because that's too soft a term for these two, but that will also work. I think it's because Emily was a bit touch starved as a human, and that only got magnified.

Caius has a very... notorious temper. The smallest things can set him off on a bad day. Usually Emily just lets it happen because a) it's never directed at her and b) she has a superiority complex over those that temper is being directed at. But sometimes she knows Caius' hissy fits help nobody and all she has to do is just grab and hold his hand. Maybe it's not so much of a "calming" move as it is a "keep it in check" move, but in essence it's the same thing.

Again, for spoilers' sake I'll keep the details to myself but there is a point in Necrosis where Caius get a slightly different kind of upset. In that case, Emily knows giving him space is the best way to start before she gets him the "cuddles but we're not calling them cuddles because we're not cute, we're angsty chaos vampires."

26 - What sacrifices do they make for the other?

I mean... Emily sacrifices her life in more ways than one. She's literally an undead creature now, but further than that, she gave up the life she'd known for like, 25 years, the first person to show her love and the first friend she'd ever had. She willingly goes against her dislike of the institution of marriage for Caius and the life and family he provides.

Emily's my character, I'm allowed to make fun of the decisions she makes at my behest.

In some ways, Caius only made gains when he got with Emily since he got a woman that really understands and enjoys being around him rather than just eternally moping (like some people...) and raging after Thena died. But bringing Emily on board means that there's eventually a lost of stability, something Caius and the rest of the Volturi value. Again, I'm being vague for secrecy's sake, but Emily makes waves and it's gonna hurt when they crash ashore. I don't know if you would count that as a sacrifice rather than the probably more accurate term, a consequence, but it's not in Emily's nature to let things stay smooth all the time and things can and will get ugly.

Not for them and their relationship, mind you.

32 - Do either of them drink? Who's the lightweight/who's the caretaker?

Unfortunately, as you inquired, alcohol doesn't affect vampires. In fact they can't really drink it cause they'd have to cough it up since they can't digest anything that's not blood. Emily still hates the idea of drinking regardless.

But again, for shits and giggles, let's have fun.

Emily's still probably an aggressive drunk, but I feel like since she's more open now, she can also be a bit of a flirty drunk if her mood was right. She's (somewhat) less of an angry person compared to when she's a human in Hawkins. I don't know how super clear I've been on this, but Emily's a horribly repressed bisexual disaster, so despite the fact that she's married to Caius, when drunk I feel like she'd lose her inhibitions and will probably make a pass at Heidi especially or Chelsea (maybe Sulpicia if she's out of it enough). Either way, it's kind of amusing for Caius to watch, but eventually he gets her attention and cuts her off to get her back to their room, even if she's complaining the whole way or getting really handsy with him.

I don't see Emily as a light weight exactly, but compared to Caius she seems like it. The man would be able to hold his alcohol and extremely well at that. He drank Greek wines as a human most definetly, probably on the regular, so he'd have a high tolerance from that alone. To me, Caius reads more like a guy who would do small glasses of whiskey by the fire with Emily curled at his side (as opposed to others in the coven I could name who get absolutely sloshed constantly having downed many bottles of god knows what). But if Caius were to get drunk, similar to Emily I could see him getting more aggressive since he's just Like That in General, mostly just hurling swears and insults unrestricted or throwing something across the room until Emily just gently gets him back to their room till he sobers up.

...honestly I don't think it's wise for any of the Volturi to get drunk because I don't see it ending well in any way.

40 - Do they have any regrets in their relationship?

Caius, no, not in a million years. He's very happy with Emily and considers himself incredibly lucky she came into his life. I feel like he understands how important Henry was to Emily, but only to a point since it seems like she's thriving with him and his wacky family/coven, faring so much better than when she was with Henry. Is it selfish and egotistical of him, absolutely. But he'd never ever go as far to suggest Emily's better with him across the board or that she shouldn't have been with Henry at all because that's just not true.

Emily was frozen in time when she was still in love with Henry. She already left him before she was turned, sure, but that love didn't go away the second she did that, and it wouldn't have for a long time. So for as long as she will live (probably several thousand years), a part of her heart will always be his and his alone. As a result, sometimes she misses him, sometimes a lot. Sometimes she even questions why she left him, wonders if he found his own happiness after the fact, worries if her leaving him led to him dying, oh god, don't let that be the case...

Emily tries to not go down that train of thought because then she's asking questions she doesn't want, have, or need the answers to. So, I would say once in a great while she gets in her head about if she made the right decision/regretting her choice, but she can't help it.

46 - Do they consider the relationship casual or serious? Is the answer different depending on who you ask? Why?

Serious. Very serious. Again, I have to reiterate Emily doesn't like the institution of marriage and yet she agreed to fully commit and marry Caius. That, and I sure hope it's serious since casual relationships don't come with the kind of influence and power Emily gets... although I will say it went from Casual to Serious extremely quickly.

Revenge Sex to Marriage Speedrunning Challenge.

#hooooooly shit that was a lot #i get passionate about my ocs and their stories okay? #i was probably way too detailed lmao sorry but I hope it's appreciated #fishgills speaks #fishgills ocs #oc asks #writing asks #oc ships #oc ship asks #stranger things oc #twilight oc #in what world are they the same oc? mine so suck it up #original characters #my inbox is open

[gun-powder-milk-shake]

me and my mom are planning to ask my psychiatrist for a full psych evaluation and advice on how to get an autism diagnosis and it’s crazy how many things i’ve been describing to people that i never realized were apart of autism:

————————

sensory overload:

- i have an insane sensitivity to sound something that i’ve been trying to explain to people (including about 7 therapists) for years. i can feel it in my brain like in my ear IN my brain. it physically pains me and i’ve literally dropped to my knees in the middle of a school tour because i heard a random ass scraping noise. i also cannot stand pencils for one thing, the feeling of it hitting the paper is unbearable. i physically cringe everytime i see one being used and especially using one myself. istg my younger brother purposely tries to set me off and that gets me angry as fuck. this usually ends in me just screaming at the top of my fucking lungs (no words just screaming) and at times becoming physical. it’s just literally my brain doing anything possible to get rid of the sound

————————

masking:

- i’m still trying to find out the definition of this but i literally just talked to my therapist about this the other day. i had to permanently move from in person to online school mainly because of sensory overload but because i always fucked up socially. i pride myself on being well mannered, polite at all times, wary of other people’s needs, considerate, analyzing facial emotions, but i’m only able to do those things with people i actually know and i’ve learned over the years how to handle those people and myself around them. i never realized that until i got out of the insanely small bubble i was in. i told my therapist that “i can’t help but be myself” and by that i mean i always wanted to change myself into just being more friendly and able to keep up a conversation without being unbearably awkward, but i always fucked up.

- this has resulted in me trying to be aware of everyone around me’s needs and i try not to offend anyone. this usually ends in me breaking down because no matter how hard i try i usually end up failing and “feeling mentally ill af” as i usually call it. this is only really a problem for me with in person situations. online i am more myself and unafraid to do so because online i feel like i don’t need to hide if that makes sense?

————————

stimming:

- YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY AND RELIEVED I WAS WHEN I RESEARCHED MORE ABOUT THIS. i for a stupid amount of time have certain things i do to calm down. these things have been noticed by family friends, my mom especially, friends, and random ass people because of how strange it apparently is. what i usually do is shake my hand in an orderly manner if that makes sense. like i shake it back and forth like a tambourine. i used to do it in the middle of soccer games and that’s when people started to take notice, but now i use it in breakdowns and when my senses are overloaded. i just recently was doing it to calm myself down after a failed social attempt that was thrown at me while walking my dog (my safe space usually)

- i’ve never brought up that method before because i thought it was stupid i suppose and i have a hard time talking to people about something that matters to me without thinking that they don’t fucking care. i’ve been taught for a decade now how to do deep breathing and grounding exercises but nothing compares to that random ass jazz hand i do 🤷🏻‍♀️

————————

mutism (sometimes):

- something i’ve done for a long ass time now (that has gotten me into a lot of fucking trouble btw) is shutting up completely when i’m super fucking stressed. actually sometimes i just don’t feel like talking? i will stop mid sentence, like i run out of juice. even my thoughts get tired of moving, it’s relaxing sometimes. unless it’s almost involuntary, for example me struggling to form anything other than hums and grunts when spoken to. humming is a habit of mine that people point out and associate with me on a daily basis. i just hum out words and sometimes people get what i mean and sometimes they don’t. if they don’t i ignore them entirely because of how fucking pissed i get of having to repeat myself (even tho i have people repeat themselves to me all day because i always drift off)

————————

special interest:

- okay this one was hard to deal with because i always talk nonstop about “you’re just mad you’re not interested in anything! i’m not obsessed it just makes me really happy!”and they may have a point but at the same time fuck off because it makes me happy so leave me alone. i go into like hyper focus on really random shit. for example i’ve had years worth of phases (or current ones): sims 4 (obsessed with the control), minecraft (easy to drift away into), certain musical group (i don’t even know how to explain this one), hot wheels (holy shit i lost my fucking mind over these things growing up), etc. the thing is when i get into something, i get into it. i learn everything about it, i make whole notebooks, i make focused playlists on spotify, i daydream about it for fucking years and lose my sense of reality, etc. it becomes a staple for who i am and i guess i do get a little obsessed? but i really don’t see it that way. it’s just normal for me

————————

twitching (?):

- time for the “this isn’t right but i also don’t know if this is apart of asd?” i’ve read something about tics as some people have describe them? my face and body repetitively twitches hard. it usually starts when i start to get triggered but gets progressively worse as i go more into it. it can be painful at times because i can’t really control it and i knock into things (the anemia already has me knocking into things but this is different lmao)

————————

advice please:

- i really don’t know much about this, but i do know that autism can be genetic (i’m still researching) and both of my brothers (21 and 10) have been diagnosed with autism and it’s never really been considered for me? i have been diagnosed with all the same mental disorders as my older brother, we’re very similar when it comes to how we perform as human beings, but nobody has bothered to check with me. they usually just try to add another mood disorder, ocd, or bpd to my list.

- i’ve actually been told i display ocd tendencies by my psychiatrist and looking back at it i think it was just repetitive movements and intense bursts of energy caused from me having a breakdown

- i’m going to ask my psychiatrist about what to do and get some advice about where to go from here especially with everything i’ve learned because these basic ass anxiety and grounding coping skills aren’t working anymore and i just need something more, something that is actually helpful for what i’m going through, and i honestly believe that this is it

- please let me know any info you have, i’m researching a lot and am hyper focused on this shit like a mf but i still have some stuff that i don’t know and some paper online isn’t gonna teach that to me

#thank u very much #autism #asd #autism spectrum disorder #any info pls #i wanna have my shit together before i present this to my psychiatrist #we have a hate love relationship #mental health #i’m still doing research #but i feel #unprepared #like i’m just tired #of feeling #like #this is embarrassing #basically like different ig #i feel dumb af saying that ong #i just need help #and this may help me get it #hopefully

[rosiehrs]

hourglass | jisoo

group ; blackpink 

genre ; slight fluff, angst

au ; highschool! au, soulmates! au

pairing ; student!jisoo / fem!reader

summary ; jisoo's soulmate turned out to be the last person she wanted and she had to face the consequences.

warnings ; death, slight mention of incest, swearing

a/n ; originally posted on my wp! one of my fav works hehe, also just something to feed you guys while i complete the requests!! hope u like it as much as i do, not proofread x

word count ; 5.4k

hourglass. we all get an hourglass when we reach 18,, the hour glass doesn't just last for an hour, it ends when you meet your soulmate. we all have a mark, a birthmark, if you will ; whenever your hourglass runs out, your birthmark stings and slightly glows.

my 18th birthday was just one week away. that's all i thought about during the first 20 minutes of me waking up.

"bae y/n! hurry the fuck up and get out of bed before i drag you by your teeth." my sister, bae joohyun or irene, said from the living room. "ugh, fine!" i replied, getting out of the covers. i brushed my hair and quickly got changed into my uniform. i then ran downstairs to see my older sister in the living room. "your breakfast is in the kitchen, now hurry up before we're both late." she said, watching tv. i nodded and walked into the kitchen, seeing a plate full of pancakes. i punched the air in happiness and started digging in.

—

irene and i walked into school together, talking about our upcoming exams. she looked up and saw her friend group, "ayt, kiddo. i'm gonna leave you now, don't get into trouble or i'll rip your hair out." she said in a sweet tone, kissing the side of my head. she then walked away, leaving me dumbfounded. i blinked a few times before going to find my friends, "how the actual hell is she my sister.." i mumbled to myself.

"hey hoes!" you greeted your friends, jumping on lisa's lap. "hey, y/n~" they replied. "what's going on today? anything spicy?"

"fuck yeah, chanyeol and seungwan's hourglass ran out and their marks glowed. then seungwan full on slapped his hourglass out of his hand. the shit broke and now,, no soulmates for them! man, i wonder which one of them dies.." namjoon said, gesturing. my eyes widened, "wait– what? what do you mean?" they all laughed at me, "awh, y/n's still a baby. when your hourglass gets broken on purpose by your own soulmate, then poof, you won't have a soulmate." jaehyun explained. "oh! and one of them dies. most likely," chaeyeon continued, excitedly.

"i- diES??" i asked. "yes, y/n, dies." lisa said, holding your waist. "hoLD THE FUCK UP, SINCE WHEN? AND HOW ARE YA'LL SO CHILL ABOUT THIS??" i asked, freaking out. they shrugged, "meh, i mean, we all die some day?" yoongi replied, chewing on his food. "bRUH, one of them is about to fuCKING DIE! they're like my best friends too, you know!"

"welp, go and.. spend time with them then, i don't know–" the bell rang and they all scattered to class. lisa and i sat there, me still trying to process everything. "y/n/n, you good?"

"lisa, i'm so gonna die." i said, blankly, making her laugh. "oh shut up, i bet you and your soulmate will live happily every after, now come on." she stood up and held her hand out for me, i grabbed it and we walked to science class. lisa and i were babbling on about the other things about soulmates until someone bumped into me.

"dude, watch where the fuck you're go– y/n, y/n, y/n. what a surprise, being a clumsy ass all the time." jisoo smiled, making me roll my eyes. "for your information, you were the one who bumped into me?" i replied, making her scoff. "talking back? kinda new from the bae y/n, what made you–"

"jisoo, stop. she doesn't have time to deal with your bullshit." lisa said, cutting her off. "come on, lisa. we're just having some fun, right, y/n?" she replied, shoving me. "ayt, that's it–" i was about to jump her until lisa pulled me back and our discipline teacher, ms choi came around the corner. "miss bae, miss kim. are you two really doing this again?"

"i- miss choi, i was just messing around with y/n, but she was being a sensitive brat and started to jump at me–" miss choi, sighed. "can you two stay away from each other for a while? it's only monday and i really don't have the energy to deal with you two right now."

the three of us bowed as she walked away. "that's it, bae. it's simple, stay away from me and we both get out of trouble." jisoo smiled. "i hate you so much, kim." i replied, making her giggle. "trust me, y/n. if i told you i hated you with everything in me, that would still be an understatement." she walked into class while i stood there, pissed. "brUH, WHY THE FUCK DOES SHE EXIST–" lisa shushed you, "be quiet and calm down, okay?"

"how the actual fuck am i supposed to calm down? she's so fucking annoying and ugh!" i complained. "y/n, hush. you can be just as annoying" i scoffed at her, "hOW? ME? AS ANNOYING AS KIM JISOO? pFFT YOU'RE FUNNY" she rolled her eyes at me as we walked in the classroom.

jisoo and i had quite a lot of history with each other. our parents were good friends, which resulted in both of our families spending a lot of time with each other. having dinners, having to sleepover at jisoo's house, her having to sleepover at my house, and just everything. but jisoo and i never got along, we would always quarrel and yell at each other. i tried my best to be friendly with her as our parents really wanted the two of us to get along. but the older girl made it so hard for me. she'd tease me, hurt me, make fun of me and would just be a whole brat.

unfortunately, the devil herself was seated behind me, so we spent the whole lesson bickering and dissing each other. "bruh~ can you like shut up for like 5 minutes?" i asked, making her flick the back of my head. "i should be saying the same to you, asshole."

—— no one's pov

"when are you gonna stop lying to yourself, unnie?" jennie asked jisoo as she was eating her lunch. "lying? about what?" she replied, her mouth full of food. "you. you like y/n," jennie continued, making jisoo choke on her food. "okay, i'm sorry, wHAT- aRE YOU STUPID? I'D NEVER LIKE THAT RAT, SHE'S DISGUSTING, BROKE, UNHYGIENIC, UG-"

"you're being too defensive, it's obvious now. you have feelings for bae y/n." seokjin teased, wiping his mouth. "i don't know how i'm friends with you idiots, i do not like bae y/n. in fact, i despise her. hate her, even. she's such a brat and if you think i'd have feelings for someone like her, you're stupid. my standards are not that low, got it?"

they all rolled their eyes, shaking their head. "what ever you say, noona, whatever you say." johnny replies.

"we were born the same year, why are you calling me noona-"

the bell rang and they all scattered off to class. "unnie, do you have your hourglass yet?" rosé asked, making jisoo nod. "i'm a year older than you, i'm already 19, kiddo." chaeyoung squinted her eyes, "so you've been waiting to meet your soulmate for over a year? yikes," jisoo smacked her head, "oh be quiet, i'm sure i'll meet them soon."

"who do you think it's gonna be?" chaeng asked. "do you think i know? there's over 7 billion people on this earth, how am i supposed to take a hunch and guess who it is?" jisoo replies, making rosé hold her hands up. "okay, okay, jeez, calm down~"

"see you after class, weirdo" the younger girl said, walking into her classroom. jisoo continued walking and saw you. she decided it was a good idea to fuck around with you a little, so she walked behind you and pinched your waist. you jumped in pain and turned around, "dude, what the fuck?"

jisoo smiled, bitterly before walking into the classroom. you groaned and did the same thing. you were walking to your seat until jaehyun stopped you and grabbed your wrist, "y/n/n, you turn 18 in 2 days, correct?" he asked, making you nod. "yes? why~?"

"hourglass." he simply replied and winked, before letting your wrist go. you looked at him weirdly and laughed. you got to your seat and glared at jisoo. you sat down and immediately got bothered by her. "jesus, when will you stop?!"

⌨︎︎ one day after

the day went by and the both of you hated each other even more.

thooouughhhhh, you do have a soft spot for the so-called brat. as much as you wanted to deny it, she was gorgeous and at times could be nice.

the day of school ended and you and your friends went over to your house to celebrate your 18th birthday. "y/n's gonna get her hourglass in exactly 7 hours, holy shit." jaehyun said, being dramatic. "oh, shut up." all 6 of you went over to your house, with their stuff to sleepover. "ayt, 6 hours and 35 minutes." jaehyun said, looking at his watch. "jUNG JAEHYUN, SHUT UP. I GET IT" you said pretending to cry. the others laughed, patting your back.

in the house with you, were

lisa, jaehyun, namjoon, chaeyeon and yoongi.

"okay we're gonna go downstairs, stay here for everlasting life." lisa, chaeyeon and yoongi ran downstairs leaving you with joon and jaeyuk.

"i have a feeling y/n's soulmate's gonna be a gORL" jaehyun said out of nowhere. "i- why so suddenly?" you asked, pretending to cry again. "i don't know, man. you kinda gay." he continued.

"okay, it's official. i'm disowning jaehyun." you said, sitting away from him. namjoon stood up and sat back down next to you, "i'm with you on that"

"i'm- come on, dudes! y/n is kinda gay."

"no you"

mEaNwHiLe~

chaeyeon, lisa and yoongi were attempting to bake a cake for y/n. notice how i said attempting.

"uhh.. 5 1/4 cups of flour." lisa said, staring at her phone and pouring the flour in the bowl.

"you mean 2?" yoongi asked.

"huh?"

"2 1/4 cups of flour." he replied.

"oh.. well shit."

"LISA-"

"i'M SORRY, I THOUGHT-"

"iDIOT"

"YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME SOONER-"

"ladies, ladies! let's settle this in an orderly manner, alright?" chaeyeon said, holding them both back. "did you just call me a lady-"

"yOU DILDOS, ITS CHAOS DOWN HERE. HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GEt yOUR SHIT TOGETHER! Y/N IS SUFFERING WITH JAEHYUN, SPARE HER" namjoon shouted, scolding them.

"SIR, YES, SIR!" they all shouted in unison, saluting. "that's better, now get to work!" namjoon ran back upstairs, going into your room. "back~ they just needed some adjustments."

"what are they doing anyways?" you asked. "honestly, i have no clue. but you'll find out later."

"wow, okay-"

"hm, yeah, definitely gay."

"jaehyun, if you call me gay one more time, i will slap the remaining brain cells out of your brain."

"the birthday girl is being so aggressive, sheesh." jaehyun said, shaking his head. "you two are kids, my god"

——

"5 MINUTES! 5 FUCKING MINUTES!" jaehyun yelled, making all of you laugh. you spent the last few hours bickering and playing games with your friends. lisa, yoongi and chaeyeon ran back downstairs as the clock was about to turn 12.

they came back with a cake, surprising you. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, haPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!" they yelled, making you smile widely. "bLOW, mAKE A WISH." you closed your eyes and made a wish.

'i wish to be able to live a happy life with my soulmate.'

*blow*

"YAY!"

^dING DONG*

"tHATS HER HOURGLASS" jaehyun screamed. "gET DOWN THERE."

you ran downstairs and opened your front door. you were immediately greeted by a small box with your initials on it. you picked it up and ran back upstairs. "OOH, OOH OPEN IT!"

you opened the box and pulled your sacred hourglass out. "AWH, IM SORRY, Y/N. WE AREN'T SOULMATES" lisa apologised, making you laugh. "welp, i guess we gotta wait." all of you decided to call it a night – after eating the cake. obviously.

⌨︎︎ the day after y/n's pov

the six of us reached school together, bickering on the way. "oh, y/n/n, did you bring your hourglass today?" yoongi asked, making me shake my head. "no– should i have?"

"who knows? you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat." jaehyun replied, smacking my head.

"i'm- why the fuck am i only learning about this?"

"because you're uncultured, now let's get to class."

i was walking with lisa and jaehyun to our english class when someone pulled me back. "well if it isn't the birthday girl, happy birthday, sweetheart" jisoo smiled at me, making me roll my eyes. "thanks? but did you just-"

"i'm kidding, bae. i couldn't care less about your birthday and you are definitely not a sweetheart. i'm just excited for you to meet your soulmate and die."

"what the fuck is wrong with y-"

"fuck-" "ouch-"

jisoo and i yelled in pain at the same time. i looked down to my wrist and saw my mark glowing a bright white through my shirt, while jisoo looked at her waist, the same thing happening to her.

we then looked at each other in horror,

"nonono"

"wait, what the fuck"

jisoo rummaged through her bag finding her hourglass, "it's still running. why is my mark glowing"

i suddenly remembered what my friends had told me,

'you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat.'

'nonono, there's no fucking way that jisoo is my soulmate' i thought, panicking.

"where's your hourglass." jisoo asked, strictly. "a-at home." i replied. jisoo looked around to see if anyone else's marks were glowing. to her luck, there were two other people, looking just as shocked and confused as we were.

my sister joohyun and seokjin. "wait-"

"nah, look man. there's no way we're soulmates, i'm gay as fuck"

"w-wait, my hourglass is still going. and come on, lady, look at me. i'm gorgeous, hot, sexy. you're lucky if you had me as a soulmate." jin replied, pointing at himself.

"bae! kim! over here!" jisoo yelled, making them look at the both of us. seeing that we were in the same situation, they ran over. "okay, so there might be a small, itty bitty possibility that we have our soulmates mixed up right?" jisoo asked, making irene nod. "i mean, i guess, but the possibilities are that you're soulmates with y/n/n, jin or me. and the possibilities with jin are the same. y/n and i only have two possibilities because we're siblings"

"unless the world wants us to make incest a thing" i replied, smirking at her. she smacked my head, making me yelp. "ah! jeez, i was kidding, you rat"

"if it's jin and me, why haven't our hourglasses run out yet?" jisoo asked.

"but if it's me and irene, why haven't ours run out yet?"

"uh- you see.. my sister and i have a thing for leaving things at home – even when we're supposed to bring them.." she replied.

i shook your head, still processing everything.

"jesus, typical baes. bring your hourglasses tomorrow and we'll meet at the bleachers at exactly 8:40 am, you got it?" jisoo demanded, shocking all of you. "wow, ms bossy pants"

"shut the fuck up, y/n. my life is already ruined knowing that there's a slight chance that you're my soulmate." she hissed before walking away to class.

"weLL OUCH"

——

i did the same thing, walked to class with jaehyun and lisa babbling about what just happened. "yo, what the fuck do i do?" i asked panicking. "nothing, you're just gonna hope that your soulmate is jin or joohyun-"

"JIN, JUST JIN."

"yeah whatever."

after school ended, my sister and iwent back home babbling about our possible soulmates and kinda just fell asleep.

the next thing i knew, it was the next day and i had to get ready and bring our hourglasses.

"ayt, bleachers, bleachers, bleachers. FOUND THEM." we walked over to the bleachers with jisoo glaring at the both of us. "you're two minutes late."

"i- BRUH WHAT THE FUC-"

"both of you better shut up before i make you. it's so early in the morning, please don't argue now." right on cue, all our marks started glowing, making the four of us yelp in pain. in a hurry, i took your hourglass out, seeing it had just finished. i looked at all three of them seeing that the same happened to them. "ugh, how the fuck do we figure this out now?" jin asked.

"uh, okay. jin, go to the other side of the field with y/n and i go with irene. if our marks stop glowing, then we aren't with our soulmates, okay?" jisoo demanded, making us nod. seokjin grabbed my hand, running to the other side. i blushed slightly, kind of hoping that my soulmate was him. we reached the other side of the football field, panting. jin still hadn't let go of my hand. we both looked at our marks, the light slowly fading away. jin and i sighed at the same time, "listen, y/n. we might not be soulmates, but i kind of wished that were. whoever has you as his or her soulmate is lucky – i kinda wanna be jisoo right now" he laughed. i giggled, squeezing his hand, "i'm thinking the same thing, jinnie. but fuck, i'm gonna have to live with jisoo? my god" the both of us laughed at each other running back to the others. "well.. uhm.. i guess y/n and i are gonna do the same.." jisoo said, avoiding eye-contact. i nodded, awkwardly as irene and jin started to run away. jisoo and i walked to the other side, quietly. i grabbed her wrist before she could walk any further, "what do you wan-"

"why do you hate me so much? what did i ever do to you? all i've ever done was try to be your friend, why is that so bad?" i asked, angrily. she looked at me, shocked. i've never actually yelled at her before, so this might've been a shock to her. "i-i'm.. just shut up." she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the other side of the field. "jisoo, i mean it. we might be soulmates, you're gonna have to stop being an asshole to me sometime soon."

she ignored me and just kept walking, i sighed and let her drag me. at this point, we were on the other side, and our glows continued glowing. we looked at our hourglasses, seeing it was still the same state, it finished running. we looked at each other in fear,

"w-we're.. we're soulmates, jisoo." i whispered. she stood there, staring at your marks and hourglasses. "nono.. t-this.. it can't be. y/n, i can't fucking do this–"

"jisoo, you have no choice–"

"but i do" she said, confusing me. "j-jisoo?"

"FUCK, Y/N. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" she screeched, slapping my hourglass onto the floor. in almost slow motion, i watched it shatter, all the sand spilling everywhere. "JISOO-" before i could do anything, my mark started glowing a bright red, it felt like someone was burning me while sticking a knife into my stomach. i fell onto the floor, shocking jisoo. "oh my god, y/n!" she shouted, rushing to your side. "fuck, fuck, fuck. are you okay?" she asked, making me scoff. "r-really? you're gonna ask me if i'm okay? you literally just killed me. you fucking killed me, i'm gonna die because of your childishness and your stupid hatred towards me!" i yelled, the pain on my stomach eating me up. irene and seokjin started running towards us, "what the fuck?! what the fuck just happened?!" joohyun asked, obviously worrying about me. she looked down at the shattered glass and then looked back up at jisoo, "you did this, didn't you? huh?! you broke my sister's hourglass?! do you fucking know what's going to happen to her?! what the fuck is wrong with you!" she screamed, pushing jisoo harshly. jin pulled her back, trying to calm her down, "i-i'm–"

the bell then rang, making jisoo run off. irene and jin helped me stand up, i looked down at my hourglass sadly. "how long do i have left?" i asked, weakly. "u-usually around a week.." jin replied, sadly. "no, NO! there must be a way to fix it! y/n, you can't fucking die" irene said, tearing up slightly. i chuckled, "it's fine, unnie. i still have a week." she smacked my head, "don't joke around! you're gonna- no, you're not. i swear i'm gonna kill h-"

"no, no, you aren't. she doesn't want me as her soulmate and i understand that." i replied calmly. "y/n, because of her selfish ass, you're dying. i'm not letting you just– fuck. let's just get to class"

no ones pov

the whole day was spent with your friends crying and getting pissed by jisoo. jisoo avoided you the whole day, not even looking at you. the next day of school was just as sad and pathetic, but jisoo was regretting it. so bad.

"guys, there's gotta be a way to undo it. there fucking has to. i-i can't let her die.." jisoo said, crying in her hands. "unnie, why did you do it in the first place?" jennie asked, kind of angry at her older friend. "i-i.. thought that it would make my feelings go away, make me braver.. but it's just killing me inside. i love her and i don't know what to do."

right at that moment, you walked into the cafeteria weakly, holding onto lisa for support. jisoo immediately stood up and ran to you. "y/n!" she engulfed you into a tight hug, making lisa push her away. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?! do you think you can just do that after what you did to her?!"

"i- look, i need to talk to her"

"jisoo, back off. you've caused enough damage and now we're about to lose our friend." yoongi said, calmly. "guys, it's fine. let us talk.." you replied, quietly. the kim silently thanked you, grabbing your hand and bringing you somewhere private.

"talk." you said, strictly. "y/n, you have no idea how sorry i am. the whole thing was just me trying to show myself that i was strong, but it just made me feel and look like a coward. y/n, i love you. i really do and i'm sorry i wasn't able to let you know. i'm trying to do everything i can to fix it, i'm so so sorry, please forgive me"

"jisoo, i'm.. i have 4 days left. we've looked everything up and there's no way to fix it as of now. i- i'm not gonna say i forgive you, but.. i kind of do? i don't know. it's all good–"

"y/n, you're dying. it's not fucking okay! and it's all my fault, i'm- i won't- i can't live without you." you chuckled, making her look up at you. "jisoo, hush. i'm the one who can't live without you,, literally. till then.. let's uhm, have 4 days together?"

"not just 4 days, y/n-"

"jisoo, you need to understand that that's all i have left. there's not possible way to.. un-kill me.. lmao i'm funny." you giggled, making her smack your arm. "y/n! stop joking around! i-i'm gonna find a way, i-i promise."

"as i said a second ago–"

"ayt, talk's over. talk.. later or something, we're going to class." lisa said, dragging you. "b-but we have the same classes–" you started, but lisa ignored you and continued to drag you. "lisa–"

"bye jisoo~" she said, not looking back. the day was spent by lisa dragging you away from jisoo, which kind of irritated you, but you just brushed it off.

the few days after, you were just being your usual and cheerful self, also being able to talk to jisoo. our friend groups kinda merged into one after the two of you kept spending time with each other. "ayt, imma head home." you said, making everyone groan. "no~ just stay for a bit longer." mingi whined. you laughed at him and stood up, "i'll see you guys tomorrow." you said, smiling at them weakly.

'there is no tomorrow' you thought.

"yeah, okay. see you tomorrow, y/n/n! we all love you~ especially jisoo–" johnny said, making jisoo hit his arm. "oh wait, it is true, i don't know why i hit y-"

you kissed the too of jisoo's head, quietly telling her to stop babbling. you hugged and kissed ( cheeks shush ) all of them "bye losers"

"bye~!"

you turned around, grabbing your stuff and rushing off. tears started forming in your eyes knowing that it's your last time seeing them.

during the past few days, you've been trying to be as positive, funny and cheerful as possible. you hoped and wanted it to make your friends forget about your misfortune and short life. tomorrow is your last day, last day of breathing, last day of seeing, last day of hearing, last day of feeling. once tomorrow comes, you will just fade away as if you never existed. your parents and sister knew about it and how you didn't want any of your friends to remember, they respected your wish and kept their lips shut about it.

you arrived at home, your family members immediately bringing you into a tight embrace. "let's get you dressed, sweetie."

you took a shower and got dressed in your favourite hoodie and shorts. your parents and sister teared up whenever they looked at you smiling and laughing, their hearts ached knowing that after tomorrow, they wouldn't be able to hear your adorable and happiness-giving laugh and your beautiful smile that could bring light to universes. once night arrived, they covered you in kisses and showered you with love.

"goodnight, my beautiful star." you father said, caressing your hair as he used to do when you were younger. you smiled at him and held his hand. "goodnight, angel. we'll– we'll see you tomorrow, love." your mother whispered softly, kissing your forehead. "goodnight everyone,, i love you all. so so much" your parents left the room, but your older sister stayed by your side, crying her eyes out. "y/n,"

"unnie, i know. shhh, you'll be fine–" you started, holding her hand. but she cut you off, "no! i won't be okay! y/n, you've been there for me ever since you were born and you complete me. you're my best friend, my baby, my sister. and tomorrow.. i'm gonna lose you forever. do you think i'm gonna be okay after that?!"

tears started building up in your eyes, making you look away. "unnie.. i- i know. i'm so sorry.. i- i don't want to go, you know that. but i'll always be with you. you know that, right?"

"b-but, y/n/n-"

you brought her into a hug, shutting her up. "it's okay.. besides i still have the morning with you–" she slapped your arm, "stop joking around!" you giggled, "yeah okay, now shush and get to sleep."

"goodnight, y/n"

"night, unnie."

—

you woke up, feeling groggy as ever. you slowly got up, making sure not to hurt yourself even more. "morning, loser" your sister greeted, making you flinch in shock. "iM- SINCE WHEN WERE YOU HERE"

"i was waiting for you to get up,, i don't wanna leave without seeing you awake" irene said, sadly. you took her hand and made her look at you, "you've been the greatest sister and best friend i could ever ask for. i love you and i'm always gonna be here with you, now go before you're late for school." she kissed your forehead, caressing your hair. "i love you so much, you loser. take care of me and yourself up there, ayt?"

you nodded, holding your tears back. irene pulled away, walking out of your room. you sighed and went over to spend some time with your parents.

——

the second irene stepped into school, she ran where your friends wouldn't be able to find her. she spent the whole day avoiding them, until the end of the day.

joohyun was sneaking out of school, until your friends finally found her. they crowded her, asking where you were. she started panicking and was having a hard time thinking of an excuse, "uhh.. she's.. just sick. don't worry about it." she replied, making jisoo's brain start working. "FUCK" she pushed everyone out of the way, getting into her car. "fuckfuckfuck, y/n, fuck!"

[  that sounds wrong :(  ]

she punched her steering wheel, before speeding off to your house. ,,,

she ran to your door, knocking aggressively. your mother opened the door, her eyes swollen, not knowing who it was, "may i help y-"

"jisoo?"

she observed her godmother, confused as ever, but she let it slide as she needed to see you. "miss bae, please let me see y/n, i-i found a way!" she pleaded, making your mum look at her sadly. "l-look, jisoo–"

"hyeri, let the girl in." your father spoke, making the mentioned lady look back. she nodded and opened the door wider. "thank you so much!" jisoo replied. she ran to your room, opening the door. "y/n, i found a w–"

her heart dropped and stopped when she saw you laying on the bed, pale as ever. "y/n, hey." she said, running to your side and holding your cold hand. your eyes opened slowly, smiling as you saw the girl next to you. "j-jisoo, hey"

"y/n.." she started, tears beginning to form and fall from her eyes. "i-i.. i love you." you whispered, making jisoo shake her head. "nonono, y/n, stop! i-i found a way, i just need some time–" you laughed at her, weakly. "that's one thing i don't have, chu. time. i only have a little bit until–"

"y/n, no! please, i-i swear. i'm gonna–"

"you know one thing i love about us?" you asked, "n-no.." she replied. "how we always cut each other off. it's kinda cute"

she giggled, making you smile. "jisoo, i don't want you to do anything. just.. stay here with me, okay?" she looked at you with such intent, everything she wanted, she needed, she loved, was right in front of her eyes, and she was about to witness her wither away. "o-okay.."

the two sat in silence for two minutes before y/n spoke up. "i love you, jisoo. i forgive you, you know that, right?"

the mentioned girl then broke down, shocking you. "h-hey, i'm sorry, i didn't–" the older girl placed her lips onto yours, spilling at the sadness and pain into the kiss. you kissed back, you smiled slightly, glad that you were able to share your last moments with your soulmate. you pulled away when you felt your mark stinging, "j-jisoo, i-i love y-you–" you squeezed her hand, smiling.

"no, y/n, no.. please no, y/n" she pleaded, holding your hand. your grip started loosening, making her onto you tighter. "baby, no. y/n, h-hey. stay with me. hey"

your eyes started to feel heavy and everything was fading away. "i love you" you whispered, before you took your last breath and your time had come. your hand let go of jisoo's, making her panic. "no, baby, please no," she cried,

your parents heard her sobs, making them barge into the room. their hearts dropped and your father immediately brought your mum into his arms as she sobbed, "my angel, my beautiful angel"

"y/n, please. come back.." she sobbed.

"i love you too"

#blackpink imagines #blackpink x reader #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink #blackpink jisoo #jisoo x reader #blackpink angst #blackpink fluff #blackpink au #soulmates au #kim jisoo #jisoo

[its-la-push]

Both of Us

Request | Hi it’s my birthday today 🎁! Could you please write a Paul lahote x reader where the reader is a teen mother and she moves back to forks and the father(not Paul) isn’t involved? Pretty please? YOURE AMAZING❤️

Word count: 1.3k

Moving isn’t easy, especially when you’re 19 years old with a three year old. After y/n‘s parents kicked her out, it was hard getting back on her feet. As soon as she had the baby she was out in her ass. She had been living with a friend in Seattle for the past 3 years with her little girl Sarah. Y/n and her friend Ivy got evicted after Ivy lost her journalist job in downtown Seattle. The y/h/c girl decided to move back to her hometown of Forks, Washington. She knew her parents wouldn’t let her back into their home, so she found a little 2 bedroom apartment to live in near her old highschool. She got a job at the local diner as a part-time waitress to pay her rent and provide for her little girl.

:readmore:

After she dropped Sarah off at the local day-care, she drove straight to the diner to begin her first shift. Her boss walked over to her with a friendly smile on her face and began speaking in an orderly tone. “Hun, you’ll be serving that section over there for today”, she stated motioning over to the right side of the restaurant. Y/n nodded and waited behind the register waiting for customers to come in. Soon 5 o’clock rolled around, which was the time y/n’s shift ended. She picked up Sarah from day-care and drove back to her compact apartment.

It had been a month since you had moved back to Forks and began working at the diner. Y/n was picking up an extra shift for a coworker that lasted until the diner closed, you were the only one in the restaurant, besides the unfriendly cook in the back, and were supposed to close at midnight. A tall and muscular man with broad shoulders and tan skin came striding in at approximately 9 P.M. He was the only customer in the diner at this time of night. He happened to sit at the bar stool farthest away from the register, where y/n was standing. You grabbed a menu and began approaching the stunning man from behind the counter. Y/n slid the menu in front of him as he was looking down, clearly tired from whatever previous activities he had been executing.

You gave him a friendly smile as you spoke, “Hi, my name’s y/n. I’ll be your server tonight, can I start you off with something to drink?” He looked up, clearly startled by the girl’s loud but smooth voice. He locked eyes with her as she was waiting for him to tell her what he wanted to drink. The girl abruptly noticed how gorgeous his brown eyes were, to her, they were like pools of milk chocolate that she couldn’t seem to swim out of. She broke out of the trance sooner than he did though, he just stared at her with a look of astoundment and wonder in his eyes. “Um, are you okay?” she asked him with a tone of concern in her voice. He instantaneously shook his head and apologized for his odd behavior, “Sorry, I’m just a little tired. I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.” Y/n nodded and headed back to the kitchen to fill a cup with the soda of his choice. The thought of maybe he’s on drugs crossed her mind and left as quickly as it came when she looked back and saw him looking back at her with a charismatic smile. She strutted back towards him with the cup in her right hand and a straw from her apron in her left. “I’m Paul” he blurted out when she set the cup in front of him. Y/n slyly smiled at him before speaking, “Hi Paul.” Paul internally cursed himself for his mediocre flirting. She was his imprint, he couldn’t mess his first impression up. “Are you ready to order or do you need a bit more time?” she smiled sweetly at him. “Oh no I’m ready” y/n whipped out her notepad and a black inkpen from her apron. “I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with extra mustard.” Y/n scribbled down his order on her miniature notepad. “Okay I’ll have that right out for you, Paul” she stated with a smile before walking back to the kitchen to hand the cook the ticket. Paul sat there by himself for a few moments in silence, thinking about what had just happened. He whipped out his phone and began texting the pack group chat about what just happened. They were all happy for him and tried to show their support the best they could without seeing him in person. Just then y/n came back out from the kitchen, unfortunately for Paul’s vacant stomach, with no food in her hands. “It’ll be just a little bit longer” she said to him. She walked back over to the opposite side of the counter that Paul was seated at, behind the register, and pulled out her phone as she was waiting for his food. He contemplated what to say to her, he couldn’t just sit there in silence while his soulmate was standing 8 feet away from him. “Are you new around here? Forks is a pretty small town so basically everybody knows everybody around here, and you don’t look familiar.” he finally spoke, breaking the silence that was clearly filled with tension. Y/n looked Paul’s way and put her phone away, eager to start a conversation with what she perceived as strange, yet gorgeous man in front of her. “Yeah, I actually just moved into the apartment complex around Forks High School about a month ago.” she answered. “So how’s this ghost town been treating you so far?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. “Oh well considering I moved back after 3 years, pretty good. I think I might stay here, it’s very peaceful and content compared to Seattle.”

Paul and y/n ended up talking until Paul finished his food. She told him all about her little girl Sarah and her shitty landlord. He explained to her that he lived in a small house by himself in La Push. He also told her about his friends, obviously excluding the supernatural part. They instantly clicked and vented to each other, they both seemed like they were just waiting for the right person to talk to about their problems. Eventually the clock struck midnight, which was when y/n was supposed to lock up. “Oh shit, it looks like it's already closing time, I have to go pick up Sarah from my parent’s house.” she stated, suddenly in a rush. “Hey before you go, could I get your number? Maybe we could talk like this over dinner sometime?” he asked hopefully. Of course y/n wasn’t going to say no to someone who understood her like he did. “Absolutely, hand me your phone.” Paul gladly obliged and she typed in her name and number into the contact form pulled up on his phone. Y/n handed his sleek black phone back to him and he gently took it from her hand.

Later that night…………

Y/n had just gotten out of the shower when she heard her phone ding. She lazily wrapped a towel around herself and looked at the recent text message on her phone. She smiled when she read “Paul” in bold black letters on the screen. She quickly typed the passcode in, eager to see what he had texted her. “Hey beautiful, you up for ice cream next weekend?” y/n giggled at his sweet remark before she started tapping on the brightly lit screen. “How could I say no? Can’t wait to see you!” she responded. After she hit the “send” button she contemplated her response. Do I sound desperate? What if he doesn’t think I’m pretty enough? The anxious thoughts ran through her head like horses. “Mommy! Come tuck me in!” Sarah shouted from her bedroom. Y/n quickly snapped out of her insecure state and went to go tend to her number one priority. After the girl tended to her little girl, she took herself back to her bedroom, mind filled with only thoughts of the late-night customer.

#paul lahote #jacob black #embry call #embry #bella swan #edward cullen #twilight #paul lahote smut #twilight fanfiction #fanfic #paul lahote fanfiction #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x reader #Paul Lahote fanfic

[flutter2deceive]

Inspired by @everybodyknows-everybodydies recent ER dream posts, I figured I'd share some of my ER dreams from the past year. I text myself whatever i remember after waking up from interesting dreams so that's the grammatically incorrect format they're in lol

buffy out on the streets moving vans with her strength, timothy olyphant is a vampire and he and his vamp buddies need romano to inject blood back into his circulatory system so he can go out in daylight again, they're taunting him like "come on didn't buffy train with you for a week to be a surgeon before giving up?", idk

The coolest stop motion video ever of this ER drawing turned into a storyline, mark leaves i guess jennifer and is running down the hallway to someone and i'm curious to see if it will be susan or elizabeth, it's elizabeth but then the pov switches to susan and she continues running down the hall to the trauma coming in and she high-fives abby and it's like the main point of contact for all the friendly characters when they do something cool is to high-five, watching this whole thing run thru and have the absolute biggest look of gleeful wonder on my face, i say some very nice words and hope they make it to whoever the author/vid marker are

In a steam engine room like that titanic ep of newsradio, there were also demons, so hell??, then there was a thing about carter being gay and in love with his best friend but then he called me lisa (which is my name) but i took that to mean that it was actually dave and it was a whole thing about maura tierney's fake ex-boyfriends?, and carter was out in my parents' front yard confessing his love but he accidentally stepped in the path of a chainsaw and the top of his toe got chopped off so then he was in a wheelchair

Kerry and elizabeth talking about sandy and mark and how they dread talking to henry and ella about them without breaking down, but it's also like they're still there, and then it's kerry and mark having the same convo but it's mark talking about his dad, they're in the hospital bathroom, a scene where sandy is temping in a library at the hospital and arizona robbins also working there and the implication is that they used to date, arizona comes up to sandy's table and notices that she seems to be doing wedding planning meanwhile kerry is sitting by herself at another table, arizona is judgy about what appears to be sandy chasing a girl who's in the closet and ashamed, sandy explains that kerry doesn't know and it's a surprise which is why she has the flashmob people standing 2 deep around kerry's table so she doesn't see the minister bringing the shrubbery in (this never happens in the dream but also what?? lol), then kerry has a successful hip replacement surgery that luka performed and mark is telling everyone about it, susan and abby were just starting to feel out a relationship and were making out in the bathroom

The er hospital but housed in an amalgam of my workplace and childhood church, i guess i'm like an orderly?, corday is pregnant and examining a patient and she's like ready-to-pop pregnant but she's still insistent that she's good to work until she's 8cm dilated and she's only 6 right now, we're all like dude go up to ob now, she's doing like yoga stretches on the floor to alleviate pain but still insists she's fine, meanwhile her patient is like ???, her water breaks and romano is gonna take her up to surgery, there's a space issue at the elevators and only he can fit, me and the other orderly say we'll take her up on the gurney in the other bank of elevators, we go flying down the hall and yelling for people to move cuz mrs corday's-- "sorry, dr. corday's"-- water broke, we get stopped by a security guard who won't let us through and then stopped again cuz there's construction in the warehouse, somehow romano manages to get lizzie but me and the other orderly are locked out, go to a bar downstairs to wait and nick kroll is there and he alerts everyone at the bar to the fact that he found several fan art/fic hits for "nick kroll/luka kovac" on the company's subreddit, he seems oddly intrigued, how weird of a pairing

In the future, there are no doctors because they're all burnt out from covid so healthcare in the future is just holograms of scenes from er but they're not the medical scenes they're the relationship drama stuff, alex kingston is named ceo of brain things due to her time on both er and doctor who, an interviewer asks what her favorite katy perry song is and romano answers for her, then maura tierney kicks everyone's ass at a banquet

The specifics elude me but somehow abby made it so that neela's memories of gallant's death are erased, and he's not exactly alive but also not dead, maybe she went back in time and changed something or had magic?, but neela is now texting with michael who is actually abby with his phone pretending to be him, abby is feeling really guilty for playing around with life and death and neela's feelings when she didn't have a gameplan, she ends up telling weaver she did something extremely morally questionable, now the two of them have to think thru how to handle the situation, neela is concerned now cuz michael texted that he'd talk with her at 23:00 but he hasn't called yet, then there's this really annoying intern that's pissing all the docs off, weaver starts to say something and ppl think she's gonna tell this woman off but she's like "this is an intern that's working here? She should be the hospital's lawyer", and then abby and susan smirk at each other and put on a tie? Idk but i think it's a different reality than the gallant-still-alive one

On a road trip or something and get back to abby's apartment, i may be susan but also possibly just me, we get the luggage from the car and while abby is trying to find her keys to unlock the door, we hear a noise from down the alley, the blonde woman that luka had been flirting with is near the luggage and is drunk or high, we wrestle with our conscience on whether to help her, she ends up asking to crash on the couch, abby and i get her inside and on the couch, we then end up sharing the bed and giggling

Caring for romano while he was in the hospital, mei lin from top chef is a med student and robert keeps insulting her, i think i might be corday, order a butterfinger and bottle of water from the hospital convenience store, go back to robert's room, he's muttering about the salad they brought him, i ask if he wants me to tell the nurse that he wants them to leave the salad for when he wakes from his nap, he squints up at me and smiles, says that his coping mechanism for stress is egg salad, idk

Living an ep of ER, i am susan, walking to my car alongside elizabeth, we're kinda tensely discussing when the kids will be at each of our houses for the holidays, i say let's just fuck it and join our celebrations, it's like a thing as if mark actually used to be married to susan and had a kid, don't know if it was supposed to be little suzie or rachel, elizabeth smiles unexpectedly and my heart kicks up, get in our cars and drive off, i am fumbling with a cigarette and the lighter from the car, drop them both as i'm driving down the hill out of the hospital parking lot, but now i am abby and have the season 9 hair, keep talking about this guy coworker i'm secretly seeing but it's actually susan and i'm trying to throw people off the scent, and there's something also about trixie and katya in this part of the dream but i don't remember specifically what, maybe guest star patients?

#er #dreams #i am a ridiculous human being #even in slumber lol

[lockedstuck]

how to make friends and influence people

March 2021

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you probably should have thought this through better.

Picture a thin blonde girl sitting by a phone, being watched by a woman in navy blue scrubs. The girl wears light blue hospital issue pants, and a white T-shirt with a pink cat on it. Her frustration shows clear as day, from her posture to her facial expressions. She yanks the phone off the hook and punches in a number with such speed that the gesture must be semi-unconscious. She puts the phone to her ear, waits a few moments, then swears loudly. Then, in a tense voice, she begins to speak.

“Mommy, this is the fourth time I’ve called you today… Please call me back when you can.”

Her bobbed hair bounces as she turns to face you.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “Did you want to use the phone?”

Yeah, yeah you did, to call your unceasing nag of a brother. He’s the reason you’re here in the first place, since he’s the fucker who called 911 on you. Therefore, he should have to bring you clothes. You grab the phone and dial Kankri’s number. He does not answer. You listen to his voicemail and grow progressively angrier. You mentally curse him and his next seven generations.

The weird blonde girl watches your frustration with a hint of amusement. This will not do.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” you ask her. She blinks, shrugs, and walks away.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, you’ve been in the loony bin for ten minutes, and you’re already pissed off. Score one, you.

Apparently you arrived just in time for morning meds, so all the fucking loonies are out on parade, including the blonde girl, who gives you a friendly wave. You scowl. Nobody has told you where to put your shit yet, or deigned to assign you a room. Not that you have much shit to put anywhere. Just the clothes you arrived in the psych ER with - a black turtleneck, and black sweatpants. They took away your shoes and gave you a pair of hospital socks.

Allegedly this is one of the nicest hospitals in the area. Go fucking figure.

Finally, after what feels like six hundred years, an orderly tells you that you’re in room 1224, on the men’s side.

Wait, there are sides? The psych ER wasn’t organized according to gender; you were stuck there with two homeless people (one man and one woman), an alcoholic, and some guy who had overdosed on alprazolam. Whatever, though. You shuffle your ass over to room 1224, which is about thirty feet away. You drop your stuff in the closet, take one look at your snoring roommate, and go back outside.

The blonde girl - having taken her medication - dashes back to the phone, dials a number, waits a moment, and then bursts into tears.

Great. You should have never written that note. Now you’re stuck in here with this chick. You contemplate trying to comfort her, and decide that you’d probably suck at it.

Another person saunters past her and stops. She’s a few shades lighter than you, and has these long Poetic Justice type box braids. Her green dress looks like it’s been immaculately pressed. She tugs the hem down to fully cover her thighs. She also has three eyebrow rings, a lip ring, and a full face of makeup. You didn’t know staff could have piercings. She offers the blonde girl a hug. You really didn’t know staff could do that.

This is not what you were expecting from the psychiatric ward.

“Roxy, why are you crying again?” the woman asks. Roxy sniffles and swipes at her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I had a nightmare and my mom won’t answer the phone,” she responds. “Where is she?”

“Asleep, most likely. It’s awfully early, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Roxy admits. She gives the woman a weak smile. “Did you go for vitals yet?”

The woman sighs and nods. “Yeah. 92/53. They’re telling me to drink more water since my pressure’s so low and my heart rate’s so high.”

Wait. That woman must be a patient.

She doesn’t seem like the type. She’s too authoritative, too poised.

You take a look at her again, scanning her for some sign of insanity. Maybe a few marks on her brown arms where the razor slipped. You search her carefully, not trying to seem like you are.

She has one thin, deep, healing scar down each wrist. Well, then.

She manages to pick up on you, because at that moment she turns to face you. She smiles.

“You must be the new admission to the unit,” she begins in a cool, pleasant tone. You’re reminded of a receptionist.

“Uh, yeah.”

She offers you her hand to shake. “I’m Porrim. Porrim Maryam.”

“Karkat,” you reply.

--

Trying to sleep in your room is an absolute trip. It goes the way everything in your life has been going, absolutely fuckawful.

“I won’t take it!” a high-pitched voice exclaims, all of a sudden, jolting you out of your light sleep. “Water you even playing at?!”

Oh, how you can empathize with that sentiment, furious as you are with whomever voiced it. Fuck the psych ward. With distinction. You peer out of your room, and watch a black girl in a purple onesie sprint down the hallway, yelling all the while.

Your roommate, who had heretofore been snoring with his mouth open fish-wide, starts to mutter things at the ceiling.

“Nurse Esther musta tried to give Clozapine to Fef again,” he says. “What an idiot.”

He looks at you and blinks. Fully registers your presence. He props himself up on one hand and stares some more.

“You must be my new roommate,” he says. “I think. Are you?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I’m just here for shits and giggles.”

He snorts and turns on the light. Apparently he’s got the front part of his blond hair dyed purple. You’d never do anything like that personally, but it looks okay on him. He gropes for his glasses and crams them onto his face.

“Christ, you look awful,” he says.  

Where the fuck does he get off saying that?

“You don’t look so hot yourself.”

Your roommate curses and shakes his head.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he goes on. “I mean, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t,” you reply, thinking of the time leading up to your suicide attempt. Not even an attempt, really. More like… a contemplation. A contemplation that led you to telling Kankri you’d rather jump in front of the train than send one more month in your parents’ house,

“Well, you’ll get lots of sleep here. There’s not much else to do. The name’s Eridan, by the way. Welcome to 3 East.”

“Thanks,” you say. “I’m Karkat.”

“Nice to meet you.”

A few minutes later, someone starts knocking on your door. Eridan groans.

“If it’s Roxy, tell her to come back in half an hour. I got ECT today. I need my beauty sleep.”

“The crying girl?” you ask.

“Was she on the phone while she was crying?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Rox, then. She calls her mom every four hours and then flips a shit if she doesn’t answer,” Eridan says. “Ever heard of Rose Lalonde?”

Before you started transitioning a couple years ago, they had you in the women’s unit for a week. Dr. Lalonde saw you twice over that seven day period and was probably the only clinician who reliably used your pronouns.

“The psychologist for the unit downstairs?” you ask.

“Exactly,” Eridan says. “That’s Roxy’s mom.”

Well, fuck.

---

A couple of days later, there’s a new admission. Kid looks comprised of a bunch of coat-hangers and duct tape, all angles and gangle. He walks up to use the phone, without realizing there’s a line for the phone already behind him. Gamzee just rolls with it, even though he was next in line. This dude is clearly a massive douche. He’s only on for a couple of seconds though - you assume whomever he was calling didn’t pick up.

When the good ugly fairy was handing out ugly, she must have dumped in almost as much for him as she did for you. He is by far the skinniest dude you have ever seen. And being that everyone in your major in college was hopped up on amphetamines, you have seen some truly thin people. If a strong breeze hit him, he’d fly clear to Canada.

Roxy asks him for his name, and when he replies, “Thollukth Captor”, with the universe’s thickest lisp, you can’t help yourself. A snort escapes your mouth before you can take it back. The dude looks at you with a narrow-eyed suspicion, and you raise your eyebrows at him in response. How does he talk like that and not expect mockery?

“And uh...” Roxy trails off helplessly. “How do you spell that, exactly?”

“What’re you, with regithtration, or thomething?”

“I was just curious.”

You won’t laugh, Karkat. You swear it. You thwear it, to use this man’s parlance. Unfortunately, though, you’re grinning. His eyes alight on you, and he gives you a quick, “the fuck are you looking at, aththhole?”

“Call me an asshole again and I’ll cram those glasses so far up your ass they’ll need a colorectal exam to find them.” 

[thefloresgarden]

Sad tales of a 20 something.-Part: That one teacher

When I was a kid I wasn’t the most outgoing, nor the most charismatic and I was such a cry baby nobody wanted to be friends with me. Sure, I had some friends in kindergarten, you know how kids are they come and go, especially when Miss Cuqui made them sit with me, which was pretty cool, at least i had some people to be around with.

Then, elementary school. First grade and I was that chubby shy girl that was overly emotional (still am) that would STILL cry about everything. So needless to say I had no friends, until Miss Faby made a call (without me knowing) to a girl’s parents, she was as shy as me, but very friendly and had some more people around her. She became my friend as a favor from her parents to my teacher, and I didn’t even know about it until years later. I wanna thanks that teacher to let me meet one of my best friends in the world and teaming up with our parents behind our backs to make us friends.

Junior high, in my last year I was finally not overweight anymore. The first P.E class of the year was finally not going to be horrible when the teacher screamed my weight in front of everyone, even when i begged him with eyes full of tears to not do it. But I guess if it wasn’t me the most embarrassed he still had to do it to others anyway.

High school, I actually had more than a couple of teacher I really liked, starting with the history teacher. Super smart, satirical and as a fellow “former nerd” she gave no shit to the so-called cool kids(ew). She was so passionate about history that even made me want to consider majoring on it for a good half minute, then i remembered i actually hated that subject when she wasn’t my teacher. And I’m pretty sure she wasn’t going to be following me around to make sure I wasn’t slacking off my whole major, also she told me not to do it because I was either going to end up as a teacher or being poor, or as she said she was, “both”.

Another teacher in h.s. Was an english teacher, very young. She started when she was 18 and when I was 17 she was 24. She got married at 19 and went to live at my hometown with her then husband. She was bright, young, funny and a really great teacher. I always looked up to her and thought of her as a friend, or at least more approachable than regular teachers. I remember around mid semester she started to be a but grumpy and students were talking bad about her, I still defended her and still thought she was cool. Then we had a school trip which she wasn’t attending to the capital. I remember we all went to mall and it had a music shop where i saw a Brandon Flowers vinyl album and since I knew she loved him i decided to got her that. Simple as that. Never thought it was a big deal, so I never understood why she almost cried when I gave it to her. She left school a couple of weeks after that, she got a divorce and wanted to get back to her hometown.

Many years later, and to be honest not thinking much about her, I got a facebook messaged that still makes me emotional just by thinking about it. It was her, she said she was hesitant of sending me a message since she thought i wasn’t going to remember her (of course i did). She told me that she wanted me to know that the day I gave her that album she felt in one of her lowest points and receiving that from a student that just thought of her in a school trip really made her decide to turn her life back. She told me she still listen to the album and makes her feel like she wasn’t so bad, she told me I was one of the biggest reasons she still woke up and went teaching everyday. I never thought I had any sort of effect in anyone, less in someone I looked up to. I guess we need to cherish people more and show them we do.

Ever since that message if I think of someone by looking at something I just get it as a random gift, hopefully they don’t find it to intense of my part, but I just want people to know they matter to someone.

That makes me want to talk about someone too important to me, you know? THAT TEACHER.

This was kind of my second year of college, my first semester in my recently switched major. I wanted to have my best semester yet, I was doing my schedule and since I was new to the major I had a very shitty orderly turn to get it done, my most wanted class with my favorite teacher (and the one that made me switch majors) was completely filled. Oh my god, i literally cried because my semester was going to suck, I had to attend to Narrative structures with the new teacher nobody knew about. 

First day of class and I was early to the class and sit in the front, then this cool-ass redhead chick wearing a whole monochromatic outfit and dr martens was sitting in the teacher desk and I was already obsessed, I mean how could I not if the teacher of my most wanted class was wearing what is to this date my favorite thing to wear. 

The class started and me and everyone else in the classroom (except maybe for that kid “brian” who was obnoxious and kinda mean) were in awe with Lore, just fresh out of Tisch under a scholarship in the screenwriting department, looking like the smarter and even more enthusiastic version of Kimmy Schimdt. Telling us about her cool life in New York and her passion for screenwriting, maybe she doesn’t know this but she really got me to do that. Create, write and direct. We got this awesome but really hard group project for the semester, making a web series, my dream project. I had thought about it all summer before classes and I was going to do it. One problem though, my idea was bizarre and if you haven’t tell yet, besides lacking in melanin, I really lack in confidence. Back was the chubby kid too scared to raise her hand to answer questions or even going to the bathroom. But within that class, I felt powerful, I really felt worth it. She made us all feel like that, she encouraged us, never making us feel small, correcting us in what we needed to be corrected, excited in participating in creating. I think is the only class in college I didn’t want to miss for anything in the world. I had her in another class too, and to say i was excited is too little. This time my passion for witting was even bigger, and my admiration for her grew too. She helped me through so many times of fears and of doubts. She unstuck me from my own head and mentoring crossed in some friendship (wishful thinking).

When I had my worst semester, my big depression semester, her class was the only one I was attending, my best safe space. I told her I was taking the semester off while crying and making her cry too. What I didn’t tell her is that she really made a way to my brain and to my heart, maybe to her I was insignificant as Brandon Flowers album was for me, just something she had to do as a teacher. But to me, she really made me a bit stronger and made me enjoy parts of me I thought were weird, like my thick accent and weird wardrobe that she said she liked. She made me believe that is worth it to try in a men’s industry, to be creative, to not be confortable and to be vulnerable in what I write. I think she is one of the main reasons i write this blog-diary, to feel is to create and she thought me that.

And one of the things I am the most happy about her, is the she is actually doing it, making her first full length film in a country where is already hard to make films and to be a woman, but she is proving wrong in both. I might be a little intense but I really admire her and wish I made a little bit of an impact in her life since she really did change a big part of mine.

Sometimes some people are really destined to change lives ad I am very grateful for all of them and hope one day I can be that for someone too.

#teacher #writer #write #writting #Tumblr #artist #fic #fiction #poem #literature #nonfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #reading #read #read me

[ashfountainfanfics]

“This is ridiculous,” Mike sighs in exasperation, “my friends and I had nothing to do with any of this.”

The detective at the other end of the table doesn’t seem to accept this. She’s a recent transplant from another state. Most of the Derry police department leaves Mike be, summing up his interest in police matters as a side effect of his fascination with Derry history. She doesn’t seem to be interested in giving that same assumption.

“You keep saying that,” she pushes, “but I think it’s strange that you show up to all the crime scenes and that two of your friends harassed one of the victims. Not to mention that Henry Bowers was found dead under your place of residency.”

Mike is growing more and more frustrated. It was surreal when the police showed up at dinner last night. The Losers Club plus the small group of cops nearly overwhelmed the small Italian place they’d been enjoying.

Bev, Ben, and Eddie are sitting in the lobby while Richie and Bill are in cuffs. Mike is somewhere between the two options or so he figures. He’s not sure he likes those odds.

Detective Lopez fixes him with a look that lacks any hint of retreat or gentility. She’s a no nonsense kind of woman. Her curly, dark hair is cropped in a pixie cut and her face is bare and set in a deadpan expression. Her blouse is a gray button up and the lanyard of her badge is tucked under her collar.

“It’s a small town,” Mike responds, “coincidences are everywhere.”

“Nothing is ever just a coincidence. Did you know Mr. Bowers?”

Mike calmly explains how Henry Bowers was the resident bully when they were children. How often that bullying went past simple pranks and low grade violence. To stop at calling Henry a bully was like trying to call Ted Bundy just an unfortunate date.

“You can ask Ben about his scar, that should give you a clue.”

“I understand that Mr Bowers had a history of violence and mental illness-“

“Being an angry white boy is not a mental illness,” Mike points out.

“Agreed,” Detective Lopez says flatly, “but that isn’t my point. My point is that several children and a man named Adrian Melon are dead and the escape of Mr. Bowers does not correlate with those deaths.”

“It doesn’t correlate with the arrival of my friends either. They weren’t here.”

“But you were.”

Mike is taken aback by the remark. All this time he’s been keeping watch, dreading the day that Derry needed saving but looking to save it nonetheless. Not that this town ever gifted him much beyond tolerance. He has no adult friends here, no significant others, only a series of routine faces that note his presence. Derry, Maine isn’t friendly or good. It’s not even scenic but he wanted to save it anyway. His jaw tightens.

“Of course I was here. I live in Derry. I’ve lived here most of my life, where else would I be?”

“You didn’t know these kids. You didn’t know Adrian Melon. Why did you visit the crime scenes? What business did you have being there?”

Detective Lopez is standing over him now with her hands planted on the table. She does this all calmly with very direct body movements. She never lets her frustration get to her. She harnesses it into orderly conduct and in a way it’s terrifying.

But she’s an outsider without all the facts. You can tell she comes from a big city by her demeanor and her thought process. Often a crime is committed by someone close to the victim or someone that makes themselves close. Contrary to the movies, the person most likely to kill you is the one in plain sight and right next to you. Monsters that hide in the dark and stalk you like prey aren’t the norm.

Mike is glad that he and his friends got rid of that norm for Derry.

“Detective Lopez? Have you ever seen someone die-“

“Of course I have. I’m a homicide detective.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Mike insists, “I was asking if you’ve ever seen someone die when you were a child?”

This gives her pause. Her elbows soften the smallest amount and her hesitancy is plain to Mike. She doesn’t sit. There’s no way she’s backing down that quickly but it’s clear she’s listening.

“I can’t say I have, why?”

“If you take the time to look into me a bit more you’ll know that my parents died in a fire and I was in the other room. I was too little to help them. I couldn’t save them.”

Now Detective Lopez sits down. Her posture is unnaturally straight and her gaze is still unwavering. This is either the best she can do to convey being receptive or it’s the most she’s willing to give.

“Can you imagine the sort of impact that has? I couldn’t even put down a sheep on the farm I grew up on. The idea of causing harm to anyone or anything, indirect or necessary or otherwise, still makes me sick. So please, Detective Lopez, don’t insult me with what you’re trying to infer.”

“Be blunt then. What were you doing?”

“Trying to see if there was a way to stop it. If you look at our history, you’ll see there’s a pattern. Every 27 years since the town was formed, a stretch of terrible things happen. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. Longer than my family’s been in Derry.

I thought maybe if I could pay attention for the next phase I could find the connection. I could save them.”

Mike can see that she’s regarding him as an absolute looney but Mike hopes it’s the harmless kind. She can picture him tinfoil hat and all if it means she doesn’t see him as a murderer.

“And what did you find?”

Mike decides that this is as good a time as any to tell one last lie. It’s not like she’d understand the truth of the matter. She’s the type to only accept hard facts and indisputable evidence. There isn’t anything he can show her to back the truth. Nothing but a lot of rubble on Neibolt street.

“I found nothing. Whatever makes this town the way it is, it’s not for me to understand.”

It’s not entirely a lie. Pennywise was just a part of what made Derry the way it is. Its death isn’t going to cure Derry of its bigotry overnight. There will still be small minded people, violent people. Mike will never understand that.

“So you’re giving up? Just like that?”

“I almost died because a literal living relic of my past broke out of an insane asylum and tried to kill me. I think that’s a sufficient wake up call that I’ve wasted too much time on this town and my own baggage.”

Mike can’t tell if she’s buying it or not. Detective Lopez gives away nothing. She’s an absolute professional to the core. Mike respects that. Derry could use someone on the force who can’t be swayed.

“I may need you to call you back in to corroborate a few stories so don’t skip town,” she gives him a curt nod, “You’re free to go.”

Detective Lopez opens the door to Mike’s freedom. Mike has a feeling that the others have been given similar instructions or that they will be given them. He wonders briefly if they should have thought ahead to confirm a set story with each other but he thinks better of it. None of the Losers are crazy enough to tell the truth.

“Hanlon, wait,” the detective stops him as soon as he’s out of the door frame, “tell your comedian friend that making jokes isn’t going to work with me. It’s not endearing and he’s digging a much bigger hole for himself.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, trying to get him to stop is a joke in and of itself.”

—-

“Her first name is Jennifer!” Richie shouts as if wounded, “Last name Lopez! What did you want me to do?”

Richie can tell that his lawyer is not amused. His voice sounds really far away and it is. He’s driving to Derry as fast as he can.

“Richie, this isn’t your usual legal trouble. This isn’t stolen material or a damaged room-“

“That was one time and I was still a baby! How was I supposed to know what ecstasy looks like? You’re about to see the podunk town I grew up in, man.”

“They’re talking homicide!”

“I still cry over Bambi, for fuck’s sake. Do you seriously think I’d kill anyone for fun?”

“Of course not.”

Roger Clemming has been Richie’s lawyer since the start of his career. He’s a cousin of his manager and normally Roger has no qualms about representing Richie. Most of his legal cases aren’t even his; the man doesn’t write his own stand up so he can’t exactly be held responsible if it’s stolen. Richie Tozier is an easy client.

“I didn’t even mean to kill him. He had Mike and it was clear that old Bowers was totally batshit. I reacted. I don’t know.”

“So we have a witness. That’s good. The more witnesses the better. I just wish you hadn’t pissed off the Detective.”

“Yeah yeah I’m an asshole but I didn’t say anything about the case. And I stayed away from ass jokes!”

“I’m sure that’s what will save you.”

The Derry police station is not a big place. The holding cell is visible to the front lobby and there’s only two private rooms; the sheriff’s office and an interrogation room. Richie can see Eddie, his arms crossed and his face looking like he bit into a lemon.

Stressed out, Eddie spaghetti? You’re not on this end of the station.

“Be honest with me, Roger, am I going to jail or not?” Richie clings to a rare moment of seriousness.

“You defended someone from an escaped convict. If you sit back and don’t make an ass out of yourself we may not even go to court.”

Richie sighs and he wishes he could telepathically share this news with Eddie. He stares down Eddie in the hopes that somehow they do share a psychic link. Eddie remains pissed at some very specific wall instead.

“And, uh, my friend? Bill?”

“I’m not sure a trial can be avoided on that, but as long as there’s no physical evidence then the best they’ve got is circumstantial with no real motive. They’ll be grasping at straws if they charge him. Dead kids do make for angry parents though and sometimes they’ll pull a guy to trial because they’ve got no one else to blame.”

“So 50/50 chance?”

“40/60 of an arrest being made and I can’t begin to estimate the odds on him being found guilty. That all comes down to the kind of town your Derry, Maine.”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Richie groans and buries his face into his free hand.

“Watch it, Tozier,” the nearby cop warns him.

Richie apologizes and feigns composure.

“Sorry kid,” Roger’s using his turn signal given the soft ticking in the background, “I’ll do my best but I make no promises.”

Richie mutters a sentiment of gratitude before hanging up. It would still be the better part of a day and a half before his representation gets here. Technically he’s not even sure if Bill wants Roger to represent him but Richie figures it couldn’t hurt to arrange it. After all, do either of them really want to trust whatever a Derry lawyer looks like?

---

Bill settles in for the night. To be honest, he’s slept in far more uncomfortable places than a holding cell. He wasn’t always a big famous writer. He remembers when he had to sleep in his shitty, used Toyota back in the early days. Now he’s got two houses, a celebrity wife, and a second movie deal. None of which he’s particularly sure he wants anymore.

It’s startling how unconcerned Bill is about the charge against him. He’s been taken in on suspicion of murder but Bill knows damn well he didn’t kill that kid and Detective Lopez doesn’t have much of anything on him except that he was seen yelling at the child earlier at the day and had been spotted at the carnival. 

Bill didn’t want to seem entirely unhelpful though despite knowing they were never going to catch what killed that boy. He offered an account of what he thought was an animal attack but it was difficult to make out. Richie’s lawyer probably won’t like that he talked without him present but Bill doesn’t really care.

Bill blamed the yelling on a mental breakdown. His hometown memories were complicated and a failing marriage and work pressure wasn’t helping. When he saw a kid about Georgie’s age living in his old house, he lost it. It was easy to sell this because it wasn’t really a lie. Detective Lopez did make a comment to Bill about how childhood trauma seems very convenient in this town but Bill didn’t know how to respond outside of confusion.

“All right, everyone,” a tired cop announces into the lobby, “Y’all should get yourselves to bed. Visiting hours are over.”

The other members of the Loser’s Club are essentially draped across each other in the lobby and half asleep already. Ben is in the middle like some sort of handsome centerpiece. He has an arm over Beverly and Mike is leaning on his free shoulder. Meanwhile, Eddie is sitting on the floor at Ben’s feet looking tense and irritated.

They gather themselves up except for Eddie who continues to sit on the floor.

“Eddie, honey,” Beverly says softy, “it’s time to go.”

“Richie and Bill didn’t do anything wrong. I will leave when they do.”

Bill chuckles a bit at this and looks over to Richie on the other side of the holding cell. The look on his face gives him pause because it’s not what he was expecting. Eddie looks genuinely frightened in here. He’s also watching Eddie as if looking at the last boat on a sinking ship; one that’s just too far out of reach. Bill isn’t sure what to make of that.

“They’ll be okay,” Mike assures the sulking man on the floor, “I know these cops. They’re decent.”

Eddie doesn’t respond.

“Sweetie,” Bev is getting a hint of irritation to her voice, “we can come back in the morning.”

“I refuse to get up. This is a protest.”

Bev sighs and looks to Ben.

“We’re going to have to force him.”

“Force him?” Ben asks back incredulously, “Force him how?”

“Ben, he weighs 90 pounds soaking wet, what do you think?”

“Oh Lord,” Mike immediately understands the implication.

Ben thinks about it for a second and it dawns on him the same exact time it dawns on Eddie. Ben is briefly horrified by the idea.

“You wouldn’t” Eddie challenges him.

Ben looks helplessly at Bev who shrugs as if to say that there’s no other way. Eddie recoils as Ben clearly accepts his orders and approaches Eddie with strong arms ready to lift him. His stance is that of someone attempting to capture a wild animal.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking touch me!” Eddie screams while rapidly kicking his legs to slide away.

Bill again turns to get Richie’s reaction to all this. He’s pleased to see Richie desperately stifling a chuckle. The cop stationed here for the evening seems to be frozen in disbelief as one grown man is trying to catch another and that other fully grown adult man is essentially crab scuttling his way to safety.

On reflex, Eddie sends a hard kick and gets Ben right in the shin. Ben stops his pursuit to cradle it.

“Eddie! What the hell!?” Bev scolds him.

“Now that’s enough!” the cop finally sees fit to reanimate, “I’ve seen some bull shit in my day but I won’t have a brawl in the station! Sort yourself out or I’ll put you in holding! Got it?”

Eddie gets up from the floor.

“Oh no,” Richie says quietly.

Bill’s confused but looks back to the scene playing out before him. Eddie looks apologetic and humbly confronts Ben.

“Sorry, Ben” he says meekly.

“It’s just my shin,” Ben responds, “It’ll bruise but it’s fine.”

“No, I’m sorry about this.”

Eddie uses his whole body to send a punch right into the side of Ben’s scruffy and very shocked face. Eddie’s fist retreats just as quickly as it had departed and he’s shaking out the pain of contact. Ben cups his cheek, obviously not very wounded. The man’s essentially built like a brick house for fuck’s sake. This does get the cop moving though.

Eddie is escorted into the holding cell with Bill and Richie. Richie looks in awe of Eddie either because he was so reckless or stupid Bill can’t figure which. He does have sneaking suspicion however that Eddie’s little stunt has more to do with Richie than with Bill himself.

Eddie is still pouting and sits square on the floor all over again.

“The little guy will be free to go after he cools down, unless you want to press charges,” the cop asks Ben.

“What? No. No… it’s fine.”

Mike quietly exits as quickly as possible. He’s clearly done with the nonsense that just played out. Bev and Ben stay behind a minute as Bev checks his cheek over again. Bill can make out the soft conversation they’re having but just barely. She’s apologizing for her plan, saying she didn’t think Eddie would fight that much.

“No no, it was a good idea,” Ben assures her.

Bill can see the way that comment washes over her. Ben was always full of a certain sincerity and purity that none of the other Losers ever really had. He’s soft and probably the only one of them that didn’t end up with a ridiculous amount of paranoia or cynicism. Bill doubts that Ben is unscathed but it looks like he at least had the good sense not to unleash his unknown trauma on anyone else.

Unlike Bill and his marriage to Audra.

It’s painfully clear to Bill right now just how much Audra looks like Beverly. They’ve got similar frames, similar facial structures and they’re both redheads. Granted, Audra’s red comes from a salon but it suits her as naturally as it does Bev. They could be sister’s.

‘Why can’t you be how I want you to be?’ Bill remembers saying to Audra not long before he took off to Derry. He’s disgusted with the comment now. He’s disgusted with the fact that he kissed Beverly and it meant more to him than his entire marriage. He’s disgusted with himself.

“See you in the morning, boys,” Bev waves to everyone in holding.

She doesn’t give Bill any special treatment. No lingering eye contact or wistful gaze. It’s as if she never had a crush on him at all, as if they’ve never shared anything. Before it always felt as if she was looking to Bill and now she’s looking at Ben.

Despite a sense of heartbreak, Bill takes comfort in that difference.

---

There’s only two beds in the holding cell. One of which is already taken up by Bill who is sound asleep. Eddie is still sitting on the floor and up against the wall. He watches for the cop to doze off. Sure enough, he’s starting to snore in his chair.

Eddie quietly and carefully scootches over to Richie. Richie’s been lying on other cot, entertaining himself with some sort of impromptu, silent puppet show. He breaks from it as he notices Eddie encroaching on his personal bubble.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers.

“Hi…” Richie answers.

Eddie isn’t sure of how to move forward. Originally he had mapped out exactly what to say after the gang’s celebratory dinner. He was going to apologize for kissing Richie, explain again that he had panicked. He would ask that they move forward from this and go back to normal. He wanted to reassure him that he is very alive and not going to die anytime soon too. He wanted to know how much it meant to him that Richie cared so much. He never knew he was that important to anyone.

Eddie did not plan on embracing his inner chaos and landing himself in a cell for the night. He still isn’t entirely sure what came over him in that moment. The idea of leaving just hit so hard and quickly that he couldn’t do it.

“I went to jail for you,” he glares at Richie.

Well that’s not a good start, Eddie mentally notes.

“I see this. I’ll file it under your list of uncharacteristically brave fuckery.”

“I mean that I want to talk. We need to talk.”

“Oh.”

There’s a pause between them. That pause grows into a prolonged period. That period slinks into awkward silence. Eddie is aware since he brought up the conversation that he should actually start it but his head is empty. All he can think about is how the stab wound in his cheek hurts and how flustered Richie looks.

“Look, man,” Richie gives in, “We don’t have to talk. I get it. You panicked. Case closed. Mystery solved. We both deserve a Scooby snack for that epic conclusion.”

Eddie realizes for the first time that Richie is hiding behind his humor. He feels like an idiot for not noticing sooner but his eyes are a dead give away. Richie is making more eye contact now than usual. It’s like he’s forcing himself to present a put together facade. He’s watching Eddie to make sure he believes it.

Eddie wonders if it might be prudent to look at Richie in a different light. In childhood, he was always just that asshole friend. He liked to pick on him but never past annoyance. You’d think trying to steer clear of Henry Bowers would have made Eddie resistant to a friendship built on teasing. In retrospect, Eddie’s not sure what did open him up to it. By all logical accounts, Richie shouldn’t mean much of anything to Eddie and vice versa.

“Why do you do that?” he decides to approach it directly.

“I’m a comedian, Eds. Cracking a bad joke is as natural to me as breaking wind.”

Eddie could easily feed into this but he doesn’t want to. He physically sits up straighter and takes a calm breath in. It’s tempting to write Richie off as immature and continue down the rabbit hole of humor at Eddie’s expense but he refuses. Richie is keeping a secret of some kind which seems painfully obvious to Eddie now. If he’s ever going to move forward from recent events he’ll need to know what it is.

“What are hiding?” he leans in close.

Richie’s face loses all color. He stammers for a moment and Eddie is secretly pleased with himself. He’s so used to Richie getting at him that it is deeply satisfying for the tables to turn. Eddie tries not to stay in that mentality though. He wants answers not revenge.

“Bill’s the one with the stutter,” Eddie points out, “fess up. You’re hiding something from me and you’re using your crap jokes to do it. I won’t go to sleep until you tell me what’s going on.”

It seems a little overkill but Eddie is feeling the dramatics today. They saved each other’s lives earlier. They should be able to talk. Eddie debates their closeness as he waits for an answer. Sometimes it felt like they were the closest two people in the room and other times they were the furthest. Eddie wants to know why.

“I- uh,” Richie is sweating at the forehead, “I want to say first that- shit no. Okay, growing up I- fuck no that’s going to take forever.”

Eddie continues to glare down his friend. It’s not that he wants to force the truth out of him but rather his concern is growing. Showing Richie his soft side doesn’t come naturally though. So here he is trying to be a good friend but acting like a displeased asshole.

“Okay, here goes,” Richie takes in a breath of confidence, “Dinner.”

“...dinner?”

“Yes.”

“What about… dinner?” Eddie says bewildered before getting accusatory, “I swear to God, Rich, if this is a set up to a mom joke I’ll-“

“Dinner!” Richie says again a bit too loud.

The guard stirs. The two men freeze. A few seconds later a loud snore emerges. Eddie sighs in relief. He’s done just enough to end up in here. He doesn’t want to get in enough trouble to stay.

“You and me. Dinner. Us. Dinner. Together. Y’know, dinner?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and relaxes his shoulders. So it’s not a joke about his mom but a joke nonetheless.

“Oh. I get it. Ha ha, very funny. Like a date,” Eddie comments sarcastically.

“Yes.”

Richie isn’t grinning. He not casually avoiding eye contact either as he does with a usual set up. Instead he’s looking directly at Eddie with everything he’s got. It’s the ‘please believe me’ look from before but in an entirely different context. It’s sincere.

Jesus Christ, I think he fucking means it, Eddie panics.

“Okay,” he finds himself saying even as confused internal screaming fills his insides.

“Shit. Really?” Richie is as shocked as Eddie is.

“Yeah.”

“You’re going on a date.”

“Yes.”

“With me.”

“I guess.”

This is all on the premise that Richie is released in time for a date. He may end up in real jail. Then what would they do? A prison dinner date doesn’t have the most enticing ring to it.

Eddie feels like a part of him has detached from his own brain. Whatever his body is doing is past his control now. The surrealism of this unexpected direction broke him.

“Move over,” Eddie demands quietly.

Richie backs up as far as can, looking absolutely befuddled. Eddie climbs into the small space left on the cot. He’s tired. There’s only two cots and one is taken. It makes direct sense to share at least when you’re not entirely in your own body anyway.

Eddie remembers briefly about how the two of them would often share the hammock as kids. Eddie unceremoniously plopped himself in and fought for space so often that it became customary. He never did it to anyone but Richie though. He was the only one.

Richie braves putting an arm around Eddie and at first Eddie’s spine goes rigid. He’s not ready to think about this, not even sure if acting on it is right yet. He still feels far away from all this even as he Richie’s body heat cradles him.

Something about the way Richie’s hand cups the small of his stomach feels...good. Eddie’s body relaxes and he realizes how fucking exhausted he is. It’s been an exceptionally long 48 hours. A little shut eye and a cuddle isn’t so ludicrous. Even if it is with Richie Trashmouth Tozier.

“Just keep it in your pants,” Eddie yawns before falling asleep.

#it chapter 3 ff #ich3-2 #i really wanted to mimick the scene where richie sets eddie's arm in chapter 1 #like I love that chaotic energy #billverly #light #reddie #benverley

[artificialqueens]

Got To Have You All the Time (katlaska) - kamylove

Katya’s hurt. Alaska’s far away. Anxiety, adorableness, and soul-searching ensue.

AN - Somebody asked for sick katlaska. This is not quite that. But it’s close! 

Takes place in the same fictional universe as my story They Don’t Love You Like I Love You, a few years later. The title is from a song by Faye Richmonde. There’s some icky medical stuff, but I don’t think it would qualify as graphic.

Alaska’s backstage, at an early show not far from her house, when she gets a call from an unexpected number.

“Trixie?” she says. “Or did my boyfriend lose his phone?”

“No, it’s really me,” Trixie says. “I mean, he doesn’t have his phone, but he didn’t lose it, we–never mind. How are you?”

“You sound tense,” Alaska says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. And so is Katya, I swear. She’s damaged. But she’s fine!”

Alaska’s brain fills up with images of Katya ODing in a filthy alley and drowning in vomit, because that’s always the first thing that pops into her head. She knows it’s not true, but her lizard brain is convinced.

She’d bet that Trixie has the same problem. 

“What happened?” she asks, forcing her voice to be steady.

“She’ll be fine! But she kind of walked off the stage. Because we both know she’s an idiot.”

Alaska can’t help it. She barks out a laugh and says, “Oh, no, poor thing!” It’s very Katya to get too wrapped up in whatever she’s doing to notice the edge of a cliff.

“I know, right?” Trixie says. “She was laughing at herself in the ambulance. But she broke some bones.”

“Oh, God, which ones?” Alaska asks, hoping they’re not bones that will keep her from working, or worse, force her to sit still and do nothing while they heal.

“Nothing she needs for sex.”

Alaska shakes her head at how differently she and Trixie thought the same thought. 

“You might have to do a little extra work for a while, but-”

“I think we’ll be okay,” Alaska interrupts.

“Right. Sorry.”

Across the dressing room, an old friend of Alaska’s, a WeHo queen who should have been on Drag Race years ago, laughs loudly. Another slips out the door, letting in the sound of a Shea Coulee song.

“Are you at a show?” Trixie asks.

“I’m at ——-. It’s not a big deal. What did she break?”

Trixie hesitates, probably expecting Alaska to throw a fit. God knows Katya would if it was Alaska who was hurt, though with Katya at least 40% would be for comedic effect. Katya’s actually very calm in a crisis. Alaska’s not.

“Her arm, definitely,” Trixie says. “Probably her knee, and maybe a finger or two.”

Alaska gasps. “That’s awful.”

“Don’t panic!” Trixie says. “I’m at the hospital with her, and they already took care of the arm, and now they’re x-raying everything else. She wanted me to call you right away, but I didn’t want to leave her until she had a distraction, sorry. You know how she is.”

Alaska feels a twinge of irrational anger–it’s been at least four hours. But she knows it’s irrational. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “It’s not like I can do anything to help from here.”

“You’re not freaking out?” Trixie asks tentatively.

“No, you gave it a great intro, thank you.”

“No sympathy pains?”

“Not yet,” Alaska says. “But there’s still time.”

Trixie chuckles. “I’ll have her call you as soon as she can, okay? There’s no signal on the first floor.”

“Give her a kiss for me? With tongue?” Alaska asks, because that’s what Katya always tells each of them, whenever they’re going to cross paths without her.

“Consider it done,” Trixie says.

“Alaska, five minutes,” the club manager calls from the door as he sticks his head into the dressing room.

She’s very glad she has work to do. 

<><><>

Trixie goes back inside and waits impatiently. There’s no signal here, either, and she really needs to upload more books, or games, or something.

She’d lied a little bit to Alaska, and she tries not to feel bad about it. At least one out of the three of them needs to stay calm, and Alaska wins out simply by being a few thousand miles away.

She does feel bad about leaving the show, though. She never cancels shows. 

Also it will fuel rumors about her and Katya, which will be a pain in her ass, but will actually be better for Katya and Alaska, Queens of the Big Secret. 

There are pluses and minuses to everything.

She yawns. The adrenaline from the stage had been pumped up even more by seeing Katya fall off it and worrying about Alaska’s reaction, and now it’s wearing off. She wonders if there’s a cafeteria that sells coffee in the middle of the night.

Before she can investigate, a tech wheels Katya and her IV cart out through the metal doors. She’s groggy and miserable, but when she sees Trixie, she calls up a smile and tries to wipe the pain off her face. So Trixie calls up a smile, too.

“How’d it go?” Trixie asks as she stands up to join them.

“It hurt, but I made a new friend! This is Steve!”

Trixie holds out her hand to shake. “Hi, Steve!”

He grins and says hello.

“Did you call her?” Katya asks. “Did you? Did you?”

“She says I should give you a kiss with tongue.”

“Oooh!“ 

“Not happening,” Trixie says.

“Some support system you are,” Katya says. “Is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay. You’re the one in the fucking hospital.”

Katya pouts. Trixie can’t tell if it’s fake. “She’s not worried about me?”

“Of course she’s worried about you. But she’s fine. She’s at-”

“I know where she is,” Katya cuts her off.

Right. Trixie knows better than to drop any potentially identifying information. Or she usually knows better. “Sorry,” she says. “Does your shared calendar list when you’re going to take a shit?”

“Of course it does,” Katya says. “We’re not animals.”

The orderly–Steve–snorts and turns it into a cough. “Sorry,” he says.

“Steve?” Katya asks. “Are we making you uncomfortable, Steve?”

This kid has no idea what he’s gotten himself into, Trixie thinks.

“I’m gay, honey. I know who you are.”

Or, he knows exactly what he’s getting himself into, and how to use it to distract his patient. 

“Wow, I did not clock you at all,” Trixie says, looking him up and down.

“It’s the scrubs. You can’t be fabulous in this shit.” He gives them a triple snap.

“And you didn’t even let on that you knew me?” Katya says. “I love you, Steve.”

“So you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? They-friend?” Steve asks Katya.

“I do,” Katya says coyly, biting her lip. Trixie rolls her eyes. 

“And it’s not this one?” He jerks a thumb at Trixie and winks, making sure Trixie knows they’re on the same side.

“Hell no,” Trixie says. “And if this ends up on Reddit, I will come find you, Steve.”

“Steve would never do that to us,” Katya says. “Would you, Steve?”

“I go there for spoilers, not drama.”

Katya’s mouth opens in a delighted O. “Do you know who makes it to the finale this season?”

“Do you?” Steve asks.

“Oh, no,” Katya says. “I don’t know a single spoiler ever.” She crosses her heart and holds up her free hand. “I swear to god.”

It’s not true, of course. Katya always knows more than she wants to, because Alaska knows more than she wants to, from getting called back to appear in every damn season lately. 

“I don’t believe you,” Steve says. “Don’t you all talk?”

“I only talk to the non-snaky ones,” Katya says.

“Oh, my God,” Trixie says with a startled laugh. Katya’s replaced all of her old addictions with whatever high she gets from skirting the edge of outing herself, and it always catches Trixie by surprise.

“Steve?” Katya says. “My boy-slash-girl-slash-they friend is really pretty.” Even through the pain she’s glowing, like she always does when she talks about Alaska.

“You want to tell me who it is?” Steve asks.

“Never,” Katya says. “Sorry, Steve.”

They’re back in the emergency room now, and Steve wheels Katya into a curtained-off cubicle. A nurse follows them in and helps him get Katya onto the bed.

“Gotta leave you ladies here,” Steve says.

Katya waves goodbye and says, “Thanks, Steve! It was nice to meet you!”

“Thank you,” Trixie says.

“He was nice,” Katya says. “Wasn’t he nice?” she asks the nurse. 

“Very nice,” the nurse says. Her name tag says Mariela, and she looks like she’s at the end of an 18-hour shift but would otherwise be a friendly person. “How’s your pain level?”

“Excruciating,” Katya says brightly.

“You sure you don’t want codeine?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I’m sure,” Katya says. 

“We’ll get you another nerve block, then,” Nurse Mariela says. “Back in a few.” And she walks away crisply.

“Steve was a sweetie,” Katya says. “Boyfriend material?”

“He had a ring on. Are you sure they didn’t give you the good stuff?”

“What? I don’t check anymore. I am a spoken-for woman.”

“You never checked,” Trixie says.

“I did! Most of the time.” Katya holds out her good hand in a grabby motion. “Give me your phone.”

Trixie hands it over. There’s no use objecting.

Katya looks at it, unlocks it. (Trixie’s password is another thing Katya somehow always knows.) She checks the settings, shakes it, holds it up in every direction. “No signal,” she says finally. “Fucking hospital.”

“Katya, she’s fine.”

“I know. I just want to talk to her. I like her.”

Trixie knows they always talk after shows. And before, and often during. Before going to bed, after waking up, during breakfast … It’s cute and Trixie’s over the moon for them, but it does sometimes make her own love life feel like child’s play. A preschool romance, how cute, let’s push each other off the swingset.

She’s not jealous of Alaska. She’s jealous of both of them for this ethereal freaking connection they have, and she can’t even be mad about it. She likes them too much.

“God forbid you should go an hour without making googly eyes at each other,” Trixie says.

“I could make googly eyes at you instead.”

“Please don’t. Please don’t.”

Katya laughs maniacally, wheezes, and slaps her thigh. Trixie knows it’s a mistake as it’s happening, but there’s no time to stop her.

“Ow! Fuck!” Katya says. “That fucking hurt! OW! Oh, my God!”

“I’m sorry,” Trixie says, wincing.

After a few breaths to calm herself down, Katya says, “You should be." 

"I’d really like to hear you explain how any of this is my fault.”

“Give me a minute, I’ll come up with something.”

Mariela returns with a tray of needles and vials. Katya distracts herself by playing with Trixie’s phone in her free hand. She hates shots. She never even did intravenous meth, Trixie’s been reliably informed more than once.

“Hey, you have a voicemail!” Katya says. “Oh, that’s better already, thank you,” she tells the nurse.

“I do?” Trixie says. She takes the phone back as Mariela finishes up and leaves. “But it didn’t ring." 

It won’t transcribe or play, either. She can just see that it’s from Alaska.

"Is it her?” Katya asks excitedly.

“Yes, but-”

A young doctor interrupts by walking through the curtain, introducing herself, and asking Katya to confirm her name and birthdate.

Katya rattles it off, and turns immediately to Trixie. “Go call her?”

“I don’t have anything to tell her yet,” Trixie says.

“Caaalllll heeerrrrrrrr,” Katya says.

“You may need to leave for privacy reasons,” the doctor says.

“No, you can tell him anything,” Katya says quickly. 

“Significant other?" 

"Chosen family,” Katya says, and points at the phone. “That’s my extremely significant other. Caalllll herrrrrr!”

“Okay, I’m going!” Trixie says. 

As she leaves, she hears the doctor saying, “Let me just pull this over so we can take a look at your films.”

She goes outside to call, walking away from the entrance to escape the smokers, and she doesn’t bother listening to voicemail first.

Alaska answers before the first ring ends. “Trixie?”

“I told you not to panic,” Trixie says.

“I’m not!” Alaska says, but her chuckle is rueful. “I was just walking home and I thought it was worth a try.”

“Believe me, she’s dying to talk to you, too.”

“Aww,” Alaska says, just the way Katya says it.

“There’s a doctor with her now. She was about to give her the x-ray results.”

“Oh! Go back in, go back in!”

Trixie has to laugh. “That sounded exactly like her. I’ll let you know what they say, okay?" 

They say goodbye, and Trixie hurries back inside.

<><><>

Alaska’s not panicking. She’s not. But she is worried, and not used to being cut off from Katya; their relationship is founded constant, instantaneous, and frequently sarcastic contact, and has been since before they even knew they were a couple.

It’s not the codependent, drug-fueled separation anxiety she had with Sharon, no matter what Trixie might joke about. It’s more that she wants to tell Katya everything, and having to keep it all in is making both her brain and her fingers itch. 

And lurking at the edge of her consciousness are things they should have discussed by now–in all the thousands of words they exchange every day–but haven’t.

She only has one number to perform, and when she gets home, she has nothing to distract herself with but packing. Which is a lot less fun without Katya’s commentary, in person or on facetime or even in texts.

She makes herself a sandwich and only eats a quarter of it, then stands in the middle of her drag room, lost and staring at the racks. Maybe she can just grab half a dozen dresses and stuff them in her luggage and hope for the best.

She pulls out her phone, knowing it’s pointless.

She puts it away, then takes it out again. Then she goes to the bedroom and leaves the phone there, but goes back and gets it a few minutes later.

She hates the thought of Katya in pain. It’s bad enough when Alaska’s with her. (Katya had twisted her ankle in a fucking Target a few months ago and fully enjoyed Alaska’s coddling.) It’s torture to hear about it through an intermediary, even if the intermediary is Katya’s best friend.

Damn. She shouldn’t have come home. She should have stayed to cheer on the others, or dragged someone back here to talk it out. She’s still in half drag, for fuck’s sake.

She can’t call her mom, or Katya’s mom. It’s too late. All her local friends will be either drunk, in bed, or on stage. She tries her brother, who would make her laugh if nothing else, but his phone is off, and she doesn’t leave a voicemail.

"Dammit, Katya,” she says to the room. “You could have at least waited until we were on the same damn stage.”

That’s a dumb thought to think. Sighing, she lays out her suitcases, and after staring at them for a while, she grabs a random armful of clothes, half a drawer of Capezios, and her three favorite wigs, and tosses it all on a chair. And then she stands there staring at the chair.

Maybe she can fix this mess once she hears from Katya. But she has no way of knowing when that will be, and her flight is in five hours.

“Stop it,” she tells herself. She sits heavily on the floor and starts rolling up clothes and bagging shoes. She packs them, and unpacks some of them because she didn’t do it right the first time, and unpacks some more because she can’t make a single damn decision.

Finally, her phone beeps with a tone that isn’t Katya’s.

“Three broken fingers,” the text says. “Dislocated kneecap.”

Alaska recoils in sympathetic pain. Knee stuff is bad. Knee stuff could fuck up her splits permanently.

“And don’t be mad,” the next text says. There’s no time to reply before the next one appears. “She had a compound fracture in her forearm but they took care of that and sewed it up before I even called you. She’s fine!”

Horrified, Alaska starts typing before she finishes reading. “You didn’t tell me it was a compound fracture!" 

"Sorry. I knew it would freak you out. She’s FINE. They’re keeping her overnight and I think there’s a signal upstairs.”

“She had a bone sticking out of her fucking skin!”

“But she doesn’t anymore! Look, I don’t get to lose it and you don’t either. I can only handle one of us right now and that’s KATYA.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Alaska replies quickly. “You’ve been great tonight and we’re both lucky you’re there.”

There’s no response, and Alaska can’t blame her. Katya on a good day is A Lot, and while Alaska doesn’t feel overwhelmed by her anymore, she understands why Trixie does. And Trixie doesn’t need Alaska also being A Lot, on the other end of the phone line. 

She stands up, paces, glares at the suitcases, and makes an iffy life decision: she’ll go to sleep now, calm the fuck down, and get up when Katya calls or when her alarm goes off, whichever comes first.

<><><>

Alaska’s subconscious knows Katya’s ringtone, and she grabs her phone before she’s really awake. “Kati?”

“Aaaaaaal, I am a pitiful, broken shell of a biological woman.”

The humor in Katya’s voice improves Alaska’s mood immediately. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. God, I’m a dumbass.”

“I’d like to disagree with that, but-”

“But you can’t!” Katya says, laughing a much less energetic laugh than usual. “You can’t! It’s demonstrably true!”

“Well, you’re my dumbass, for what it’s worth.”

“Stop it. I’m emotionally fragile today. You’re going to make me cry.”

“I would never. How much does it hurt? Is Trixie still there?”

“Not too bad, and no. They have an early flight. Latrice brought me my phone and some clothes, and then they both had to go.”

Alaska’s heart drops, along with her momentarily heightened mood. “Fuck. I don’t like you being alone in the hospital. When can you leave?”

“Later today, but I can’t fly for at least three days, so I-”

“Three days?!”

“They said a week is better. Something about swelling, or an aneurysm, or-.”

“An aneurysm?”

“No, no aneurysm! That’s just what can happen if you fly too soon, and I’m not flying!”

Calm the fuck down, Alaska tells herself. “No. Okay. You’re fine. Trixie kept telling me you were fine." 

"Stop,” Katya says. “Breathe.”

Alaska sighs. “I’m breathing. I’m just–can you even take a piss by yourself?”

“I’ll figure it out. And I have no shame about pissing myself if necessary, as you well know. And there’s room service!”

Alaska looks at the clock and tries to figure out the math of her flight–when’s the latest she can leave, how long can she continue to put off packing, when does she have to be out the shower–but her brain won’t cooperate.

“I can hear you thinking,” Katya says, “and no, you can’t cancel South America. You have never cancelled a show in your life. I’ll be fine!”

“You’re not fine,” Alaska snaps. “You’re alone in a hospital room on the other side of the country with I don’t even know how many broken bones, I lost count.”

“I’ll keep count. You don’t have to. Al. Are you packed?”

“Half. What do they have you on? Is it working?”

“It’s a Tylenol drip or something, and they keep giving me these shots that I swear are a fucking miracle. I made them write ‘no opioids’ on my chart.”

“See?” Alaska says. “That’s why you need someone with you! Doctors fuck that shit up all the time!”

“Al. Is your flight still at 7:55?”

“I–yes.”

“Then you need to finish packing right now. Oh, no,” she says to somebody else. “No eggs, please. Could you take them away? Thanks.”

“They’re feeding you food you don’t even like!”

“No, they’re not. I have toast and cornflakes and orange juice and I’m fine. Pack.”

Sniffling, Alaska squeezes her eyes shut. They’re burning. “Kataya.”

“Pack.” Katya crunches on something, and then yawns loudly.

“I’m keeping you awake,” Alaska says.

“Fuck you, no you’re not. The lack of research into non-opioid pain relief is keeping me awake.” She stops for a second. “Are you crying?”

Alaska sniffles again. “It’s so dumb. I’m tired and pathetic, and you’re the one who’s hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been entertaining everyone else to keep myself sane for hours, and I know you’ve been ruminating instead.”

Ruefully, Alaska says, “I ruminated so hard I had to go to sleep.”

“I knew it! I have got you pegged, gurl.” There’s a brief pause. “Don’t make a bottom joke. If you make a bottom joke, I’m breaking up with you.”

“I won’t make–oh, my God, you’re still doing it!”

“Huh? Breaking up with you?”

“Entertaining me. You shouldn’t have to worry about that!”

“Of course I should. It’s in the job description. Now pack.”

<><><>

They hang up when a gaggle of doctors and med students swarms into Katya’s room, which frankly does nothing for Alaska’s anxiety level. She goes to splash cold water on her face and finds she never even took off her makeup. So she showers as quickly as she can, throws on some clothes for her flight, and goes back to sigh over the open suitcases on the floor.

Nothing fits the way it usually does; her favorite lashes disappeared somewhere between the club and now; the sunscreen isn’t where it’s supposed to be; she has to check her phone to see how many shows she’s doing, because she can’t keep even basic information in her head anymore.

Frustrated, she throws a Louboutin at the wall and refuses to cry again.

If sleeping earlier was an iffy life decision, the one she’s about to make is unquestionably awful.

No, she corrects herself. It’s a bad decision professionally. But she’s reached a point in her life, and in her career, where she’s allowed to put her personal life first, once in a while. 

Anyone who hates her for it can just send her a million snake emojis again.

<><><>

Katya wakes with no concept of time. There’s sunlight in the room, but she doesn’t know which direction the room is facing. There are loud voices in the corridor, but that means nothing. Her stomach is empty. Her broken fingers are throbbing, but strangely, not her knee or her arm. And she smells…

“Al?” She looks around, and finds her boyfriend curled up in a stylish, upholstered chair that suggests she’s going to pay through the nose for this room.

Alaska’s got one foot under her, and the other leg thrown over the arm of the chair. She’s hugging her old backpack to her chest, with her glasses practically off her face and her neck curled at what can’t be a comfortable angle. There’s no product in her hair–she doesn’t leave the house without product in her hair–so a wisp of frizz is flopping down over her eyes.

Katya’s never been so simultaneously overjoyed and enraged to see someone in her life.

A nurse bustles in, knocking perfunctorily on the door. “Mr. McCook, you’re awake! Let’s change out that drip and get you ready for dinner.” She notices the sleeping form in the corner. “I heard your husband was here. He’s as cute as you are!”

Katya doesn’t react to the word husband–you do whatever you have to do to get into a hospital room–but it seems to wake Alaska up.

“Your wh–Kati?” She jerks up straight and looks right at Katya. She might still have a little purple shadow in the corner of one eye, but Katya can’t be sure.

“Yes, darling,” Katya says. “I’m here, and you’re an idiot, and you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

Alaska startles when she sees the third person in the room. “Oh, hi,” she says.

“Hi there. Are you Mr. McCook also?”

Katya laughs. Alaska, barely awake, takes it seriously. “No, I–I mean, we don’t have–professionally it’s just-”

“Honey, stop,” Katya says. The nurse changes out the bag on Katya’s drip in a few practiced movements, and Katya squints to see her name tag. “Tina here isn’t going to kick you out. Hi, Tina. I’m Brian, and that’s Justin, and he’s an idiot who shouldn’t be here.”

“Fuck work,” Alaska says. She already looks less anxious than she sounded on the phone, and she starts stretching her long neck, to wake up. Katya knows which muscles Alaska will work through first, second, third, knows exactly where Alaska will be sore from sleeping like that, and she smiles.

“He’s also a workaholic suffering from temporary insanity,” Katya adds.

“Oh, no, I agree with him,” Tina says as she checks Katya’s pulse. “Family comes first, right? There are no meds in that bag. The doctor wants to switch you over to oral administration before we let you go. How’s the pain?”

“It’s actually okay. Did you give me another injection while I was asleep?”

“An injection of what?” Alaska asks.

“I told you about the miracle shots,” Katya calmly reminds her.

“Yes, we did,” Tina says, and explains what they use to numb the nerves, which Katya hadn’t known was possible until they gave her the first one. “Are you hungry, Brian?”

“I could eat a horse,” Katya says. Tina leaves with a smile, and Alaska bursts out in a laugh at the secret innuendo.

“You slut,” Alaska says lightly. “You won her over fast.”

“Hearts and minds, one fracture at a time. Remind me to tell you about Gay Steve. And Luis. And Marie Adeline. Her son’s a nurse here, too! And Kang, she’s my doctor.”

“Everybody loves you.” Alaska finally stands up and approaches the bed.

“God knows why, but I’m used to it. Hi.”

“Hi.” She leans down to kiss Katya on the forehead.

“That is not the kiss I was expecting.”

Alaska winces, and runs her tongue over her front teeth. “I don’t think I’ve seen a toothbrush in like a day, I forgot to bring it. You don’t want-”

“I do,” Katya says, and puckers up. Alaska gives her a little peck. “Ew, that was disgusting,” Katya complains.

“I warned you. The pain’s really okay? You looked like you were sound asleep.”

“I think I was. They gave me an SSRI I used to take a long time ago. Knocked me right out,” Katya says. “Now, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m an idiot, like you said.”

“Also demonstrably true.”

“And what your new friend said. Family comes first.”

Katya’s heart feels like it could jump out of her chest. She reaches for Alaska’s hand. “That is the corniest thing I have ever heard you say, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Alaska gives her that soft, crooked smile Katya loves, and squeezes her fingers twice, like a heartbeat.

Then she deflects with a smirk. “You know,” she says, “between Trixie leaving the show with you, and me cancelling six shows-”

“Six? That’s the whole tour!”

“-Reddit’s going to have plenty of things to talk about. I’ll reschedule, it’ll be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

She’s telling herself that, too, not just Katya. Katya rubs the back of Alaska’s hand with her thumb, and lets the subject go.

“Let’s make up a long, complex love triangle narrative,” Katya says, “where you’re the sad but sublimely gorgeous third wheel, and I’m married to a prick who can’t get it up, and I’m the quirky, unnaturally pretty girl you come to blows over.” She sighs happily. “It’ll be beautiful. It’ll be heart wrenching. I’ll cry. And then I’ll dump both of you for Willam.”

Alaska cracks up, and Katya joins her, gratefully. 

“Are you sure they didn’t give you the good stuff?” Alaska asks.

“That’s what Trixie said.”

“Because at your highest level of functioning-”

“-I come off high as a kite. The bird, not the toy.”

“There’s a bird called a kite?”

“I told you you were an idiot. Or maybe it’s like a stingray? I’m an idiot, too.”

“I couldn’t leave you here by yourself,” Alaska says, scrunching up her nose. “Somebody has to keep you alive and entertained.” She thinks about that, and adds, “Maybe the next time you do a faceplant off a stage I can be cold and detached.”

“Maybe next time you’ll be with me.”

“One can only hope,” Alaska says. Then she winces again. “Oh, fuck, I need to send flowers to Trixie. Don’t let me forget.”

“Why? She said you were an absolute gentleman. A credit to our relationship. A credit to the species homo." 

"She did not say that, and you are a lying liar.”

“She almost did!” What Trixie actually said was that Alaska was a grown-up and could handle herself, but Katya could read between the lines.

“I was a credit to the species homo,” Alaska says, “right up until I turned into a scared little goblin. I’ll tell you about it later. Did they say when you can leave?”

“They said they’d check on me before dinner and decide for sure.”

Alaska ostentatiously checks her phone. “It’s 4:30.”

“Be nice,” Katya says. “My mom’s a nurse. We like nurses.”

“I know your mom’s a nurse, shut up. Do you need me to do anything? Does the hotel know you’re extending?”

“Yes, they know.” Katya thinks for a minute. “I’m sure there’s something practical you could be taking care of, but I don’t care. Just squeeze in here, we can watch Golden Girls and you can tell me how much you love me.”

She tries to inch away to make room on the bed, but pain stabs her in at least five different places. “Ow, fuck!”

“Let me help you, for fuck’s sake!”

Alaska was right. Katya would have starved or died of filth alone in a hotel room. She grumbles about moving anyway.

Eventually they get Katya settled and the pain back down, and Alaska sits up against the headboard next to her. “Tina’s going to kill me,” Alaska says, but Katya can feel her starting to relax.

“Oh, the irony. Now shhh, I’ve never seen this one,” Katya says. Alaska’s on her intact side, her hips by Katya’s head and her legs stretched out along Katya’s body. Katya lets the warmth seep under her skin.

Alaska quotes along happily with the first episode, but then goes quiet for the second. Halfway through, she asks, “Do we know a good gay lawyer?”

“Mmm,” Katya says. “Hospital visitations.”

“Power of attorney.”

“Healthcare proxy. All that stuff.” She tilts her head back to see Alaska’s face. “Did they give you a hard time?”

“No, but I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Not the most queer-friendly state.”

“No. And the amount we travel…”

Katya nods. “Somebody will, eventually. You up for this?”

Alaska scritches Katya’s scalp, and Katya sighs in appreciation. “I’m in for good. You?”

Katya nods. “Till death. And then I’ll be haunting you, and we’ll have all the kinky ghost sex.”

“Well, if you’re going to haunt me anyway,” Alaska says, slow and deadpan, “it’s only fair that I get to decide when to pull the damn plug.”

Katya laughs until she wheezes, and Alaska resists for a bit before joining in.

“Luckily,” Alaska says once they’ve calmed down, “I’ve got nothing to do for the next week but help you pee, and search for lawyers on the internet.”

“Not nothing. You’ll also be giving me a lot of head.”

“That goes without saying.”

They share a suggestive smile and go back to watching TV. Alaska starts quoting the dialogue again as the last bit of tension leaches out of her body, and Katya virtually melts into her side. One scene later, she gets bored and throws a possessive arm over Alaska’s leg, tapping out a restless beat on the inside of her knee. 

They’ve talked about marriage, and decided it’s too heteronormative for them. But this, the legal shit. The legal shit matters. It’s only luck, and the privilege of having supportive families unlike so many couples they’ve known, that’s allowed them to ignore the odds for so long. 

Nurse Tina returns to find Alaska happily voice acting all the roles in one of her favorite episodes, and Katya happily tapping out a song that will make Alaska laugh when she recognizes it.

“I should make you move,” Tina says. She’s got a cup of pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other. “But you two are just too cute. I guess gay marriage isn’t so bad, after all!”

Katya tilts her head back to look at Alaska’s face. “Your point.” But she smiles at Tina anyway. 

Alaska smiles, too. “Exactly,” she says, squirming to get her phone out of her pocket. “Never mind tomorrow, I’m going to start that search right now.”

#rpdr fanfiction #alaska thunderfuck #katya zamolodchikova #katlaska #hurt/comfort #angst #kamylove #got to have you all the time #tw medical content #tw accidental injury #submission #canon compliant

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4308 Chapter: 11/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 11

Madara was more than used to waking up to find himself alone in bed. It was sort of a habit at this point to roll on to his back and sprawl out in the open spaces that he knew would have been long vacated. He was startled this morning to finish his morning ritual with a jaw-cracking yawn and a stretch of his body and senses only to find a familiar chakra signature burning mutely in the kitchen a floor below. It was so strange to lie in bed and feel the calm cool feeling of Tobirama completely at ease in their kitchen, stationary even this long past sunrise, that Madara very nearly found himself lulled back asleep before he realized the unique opportunity presented to him.

It had been months since he’d eaten breakfast anything but alone but it looked like that might finally change if he could hurry his ass out of bed.

Never in his life had Madara rolled out of the blankets and thrown on his clothing so quickly, including the time their compound had been raided when he was fifteen years old. Although to be fair he’d been battling his first hangover at the time and for several minutes had confused the clangor of the alarm bells with the pounding in his head. Still, he was mildly impressed with his own speed as he managed to clothe his body in record time and all but fly down the staircase where he forced himself to assume a more orderly pace. There was no need for Tobirama to see him acting like such a fool just so the two of them could at least make friends.

A curious face awaited him when he stepped in to the kitchen and Madara did his best to keep his greeting casual, projecting an aura of seeing nothing out of the ordinary. They both knew how strange it was for them to go about the beginning of their days at the same time when Tobirama usually would have been long gone before Madara left the bed but there was little point in making a big deal out of anything.

“Have you eaten?” Madara asked, reaching for the coffee pot and almost startled to find the liquid inside still warm. It was a blessing to pour himself a cup without going through the effort of brewing it first.

“No.” Tobirama shifted with a faintly guilty expression. “I don’t usually eat much in the mornings so I’m fine, no need to worry.”

“Because you…don’t have time?” His guess hit the mark perhaps a bit too well judging by Tobirama’s wince but Madara forged ahead with one hand already reaching for a pan. “Right, well, looks like there’s plenty of time today. Would you like some eggs?”

“Yes. Please.”

At least he wasn’t the only one who suffered from not being quite sure how to act around his husband yet. It was a large relief every time he noticed Tobirama floundering a little while they both tried to figure out where things stood between them now that they weren’t determined to never look each other in the eye and how to improve their shaky relations without any more accidental insults.

Eggs were a quick and easy meal so it wasn’t long before the two of them were seated across from each other just as they had been the night before during dinner. Tobirama mumbled compliments under his breath and Madara soaked them up without bothering to look for ulterior motives. After a couple of minor false starts he was even able to get a conversation going about the plans being drawn up for providing electricity to more of the residential areas. During the initial build Tobirama hadn’t been able to convince enough people that it should be installed in all buildings rather than just businesses and governing facilities, although he had accidentally inspired them to install power in the homes of all head families as a way of appeasing each clan for the compromises they made when signing their name on the treaty.

They were nearly done their meal when Madara looked out the window and sighed. It was such a nice day, much too nice to spend so many hours in a stuffy office as he would soon have to.

“What are your plans for the day?” he asked, wistful for anything that wasn’t the paperwork waiting on his desk.

“I usually spend some time in the mornings working in my lab,” Tobirama said. “Since I, ah, didn’t make it there today I might do so after work. Very likely I’ll need that time to myself. Most of my day has been scheduled for meetings in all different corners of the village and none of them promise to be easy on my patience.”

Madara snickered in to the bottom of his coffee mug. “Is that you who has to meet with the Labor Relations Board? Only a few months in and they’re already getting complaints, I can’t believe it.”

“The people need to know we care about them.” Despite his words Tobirama already looked annoyed just thinking about the stupidity he would have to sit through later. Madara did not envy him that duty. He’d never been very good at representing the little person without someone there, usually Hikaku, to provide him with a little perspective. Right now he needed to seek a little perspective of his own.

“Well if you’re not in too terrible of a mood after all that I wouldn’t mind seeing what this lab of yours is like. I have to admit, I’m very curious.”

“Really?” He knew he’d said the right thing immediately when Tobirama’s eyes lit up with the same ecstatic brilliance as they had the last time he accidentally went off on a tangent involving his studies. “You’d really like to see my work?”

Madara nodded decisively. “I can’t promise to understand any of it but from what Hashirama tells me it all sounds very interesting. And useful; he told me about a few of your inventions. Until he said something about it I never really thought about who invented any of the jutsu we use. I’ve always just taken it for granted that we learn them from other people and never gave any thought to where they originated.”

“It’s a complicated process,” Tobirama murmured. He did look pleased that someone seemed interested in what Hashirama had called his greatest passion. The small taste of what that passion looked like had left Madara eager to see more, to see that brilliant smile again.

“Would you be open to showing me some of that process?” he asked.

“Yes, if you’re sure you won’t be bored.”

Madara had the phrase ‘not with you explaining things’ on the tip of his tongue and only just barely managed to bite down on it to keep the words behind his teeth. He had absolutely no idea where that came from. Flirting wasn’t exactly something that came naturally to him but even if it were he and Tobirama didn’t have that sort of relationship. Sure they were married and yes the man was more than a sight for sore eyes no matter how ragged and tired he always looked but Madara wasn’t sure what had gotten in to him that he had almost started flirting before they even really settled in to getting along properly.

He went for shaking his head instead and shoving the last bite of eggs in his mouth. Like a mirror of yesterday they walked to work side by side after breakfast was done but unlike yesterday the conversation was much easier to maintain with the awkwardness of first attempts already under their belts. When they separated Madara felt buoyed by the light of hope. Susumu-sensei had indeed had a good point when she told him that it would be better to at least get along than to spend the rest of their lives hating the sight of each other. It hurt that he would never have the chance to fall in love, sure, but that didn’t mean he had to be completely miserable. If nothing else he had the chance to build a strong friendship with Tobirama, who he had to admit was pretty interesting now that they were making friendly overtures.

The first half of the day went by fairly quickly with his good mood uninterrupted. With Hashirama out of the office conducting building inspections he had the office all to himself and took full advantage of that to race through nearly twice as much paperwork as he normally would have gotten done in that time. After enjoying a pleasant lunch with Izuna and Hikaku in the office they both shared with a young woman from the Hatake clan he headed back to work only to discover that all the things he’d gotten done had been replaced with just as much work. His mood was dampened a little further when Hashirama returned in a sour funk of his own; apparently some of the buildings he’d raised with his Mokuton had since be torn apart for the new residents to make expansions or renovations and the very idea that his hastily made cookie cutter homes weren’t ideal for every single person in the village didn’t appear to sit very well. Madara did not appreciate having to placate the big baby on top of his added workload.

It was a relief to step out of the office at the end of the day and know that the next was his day off. His first stop was Tobirama’s office, knocking politely on the frame and hiding a smile of amusement when Tobirama jerked so hard he tossed his pencil across the desk, just barely managing to snatch it before it rolled off on to the floor.

“Ah. Is it…what time is it?” Tobirama glanced at the shadows on the wall with some surprise.

“Hmph. I wish my work was interesting enough to get that involved in it,” Madara grumbled. When he stepped forward to see what Tobirama was doing he raised both eyebrows to see not any of the forms they were all used to drowning themselves in for hours at a time but several pages of unintelligible diagrams.

“No these aren’t- I should have been working. But then it crossed my mind that I really shouldn’t be working on any of my more dangerous experiments with you there so I was trying to decide which of them was safe enough and then I had an idea that I knew I would forget if I didn’t write it down. I…tend to lose myself in these things quite easily.” With a faintly embarrassed twist of his mouth he added, “Hashirama likes to harp on me for it.”

Madara watched him scramble to clean up his things. “What, he doesn’t like seeing you enjoy yourself?”

“Um, it’s not that. I think it’s more my habit of forgetting to eat or sleep for twenty to thirty hours at a time that he objects to. I never mean to!” He added at the shocked look he was suddenly getting.

“You–!? Wow. Okay, so, if I haven’t seen you in a full day then check the lab. Got it.” Madara shook his head, in doing so almost missed the startled look Tobirama gave him. He pretended not to see it anyway. Did the man expect him not to care at all?

Okay it would be fair if that was his expectation but still.

As he packed up and they made their way out of the building Tobirama recounted a tale of the time Hashirama had to break down the door of his lab and restrain him with reinforced chains of mokuton in order to drag him away from a project that consumed him so badly he had already passed out twice yet refused to stop. Madara was duly horrified.

The journey to Tobirama’s lab wasn’t anywhere near as long as Madara thought it would be. When they turned in to the Senju district he thought perhaps they would pass through and leap the outer wall of the village to some secret grove or a hidden location. Then they turned down a familiar street he had walked before and he questioned if his husband had forgotten where they were supposed to be going. At the last minute, however, they turned aside and instead of entering Hashirama’s home they stepped in to the backyard of the house just next door where Tobirama unsealed the entrance to a basement cellar.

“Whose house are we breaking in to?” he asked as he was led down the surprisingly clean stairs.

“It’s not breaking in if the basement was specifically given to me. I have permission to come and go as I please, don’t worry.”

“That did not answer my question.”

“If you must know this is Touka’s house. My cousin?”

Madara paused to cringe. “The scary one who always looks like she wants to eat my head? The one who somehow managed to congratulate me on becoming Head of Security while also implying she would feed my intestines to a rabid wolf if I displeased her at the same time?”

“She does have a way with words, doesn’t she?” Tobirama was laughing at him, the likeable bastard.

Then they stepped through another door at the bottom of the stairs and all thoughts were pushed away from Madara's head as he took in the weird wonders of the first laboratory he’d ever seen. All the little bottles and chemicals he’d been picturing were there, neatly tucked away on their shelves with labels in tidy handwriting, but that was only one section of the massive room. The far wall was entirely covered with diagrams and notes all tacked up in nonsensical patterns he couldn’t hope to unravel. The counter that ran all the way around the circumference of the room was busy just below that display with stacks of note books and papers that Madara couldn’t see from where he was. Another portion of the counter was riddled with burns scars and the wall itself above that area was covered in hand written calculations.

When he finally managed to pull his eyes away from the madness he found Tobirama with both hands on his hips as he gazed around the room as well with a look of pride in his eyes.

“You made all this mess in just a few months?” Madara demanded.

“Hey now, this isn’t mess! It’s – okay, yes, it’s messy but this is science! These are breakthroughs! Just think of all the answers I can find in this one room, all the problems I can solve!”

“From what I hear you make more problems than you solve.” Madara smirked when Tobirama spun around to glare at him. “It sounds fun.”

A beat passed and then Tobirama returned his smile. Clearly the man was excited to show him around so Madara allowed himself to be led from station to station. Half of the scientific mumbo jumbo flew straight over his head but the bits that did stick in his brain sounded only logical and the base purpose for some of the projects did indeed seem very interesting to him.

One of the seals Tobirama was working on was an improvement on the storage seal that he hoped would be able to seal living beings inside for easy and rapid transport or unexpected assassinations. Being able to mail yourself to a target and then bursting out of the paper to end their life without a fight? Madara could definitely see the uses in that. And the potential for hilarity.

Throughout the little tour Madara noticed probably a solid half of the papers littered about all ended with thick question marks and when he questioned it Tobirama rubbed at his eyes with a tired expression.

“I can only get so far with my own mind,” he murmured. “There are so many areas of study I simply don’t have access to so I run in to dead ends with…alarming frequency. It’s very frustrating. There’s so many things that I know I’m close to having the answer for but I don’t have any sort of reference to tell me whether I’m on the right track or where to look next and it all falls to the wayside.”

“So you, what, need more books?” Madara guessed.

With a snort Tobirama nodded. “Yes, I need more books. People always underestimate books!”

“Huh. Well, why don’t you go check out the library then?”

“I have. I’ve scoured the library from one end to the other and read almost every tome we have available to the public.”

“That’s – wow. A lot of reading. But that isn’t what I meant.” Jerking a thumb over one shoulder back towards home, Madara asked, “Why don’t you look through the clan library? There’s a lot of stuff in there that we weren’t willing to allow the public access to.”

Tobirama knew that, of course. He had to since he was the one who had originally suggested it as part of the treaty between them, the sharing of knowledge, but it had been discarded as a major concession during the negotiations. Madara wondered what could make someone as clearly genius as his husband forget about something like that – then Tobirama opened his mouth and Madara realized that it wasn’t a matter of forgetting after all. Just another bad communication.

“You would let me in to the Uchiha Clan’s private library?” he asked, seemingly dumbfounded. Madara blinked at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I…” Tobirama frowned and looked away and Madara realized easily what he’d been about to say.

“The library,” he said firmly, “is freely open to all Uchiha. When you married me you took my name. You are part of the clan now so there’s really no reason you should be denied access to our knowledge unless you plan to use it for purposes detrimental to the those around you.”

His cheeks pinking a little with shame, Tobirama nodded. Then he brightened and Madara was treated to the sight of sheer awe dawning over his expression as it hit home that there was an entire building full of knowledge just waiting for him to explore. “I suddenly have very important plans for tomorrow,” he whispered under his breath.

Madara snorted.

“Why do I get the impression that I’m going to be dragging you out of books to make you sleep instead of this lab?” He did his best to infuse his voice with as much exasperation as he could but the truth was that it didn’t actually sound all that bad to him. Tracking Tobirama down and dragging him away from his research just to eat a proper meal or make sure he slept for at least a few hours, that sounded almost domestic and the very thought of it was oddly peaceful. “Now come on, you promised me cool science things. Do some science!”

“Look, you don’t just ‘do some science’ in a lab. My studies are all very intricate and require hours of research and theoretical work and even setting up the safety precautions can be difficult!”

“So are you going to set something on fire for me or not?”

Visibly trying not to smile, Tobirama replied, “Yes, I can set something on fire for you.”

It was surprisingly difficult for Madara to resist clapping his hands like a child when Tobirama showed him the trick of adding just the right amount of two chemicals together to create a small contained flame. He was just as excited to learn how flash powder worked as he had been the first time he saw it in the field and the raw delight on Tobirama’s face when his demonstrations received such a positive reaction was extraordinary to behold.

When his husband pulled down a scroll from one of the top shelves Madara's imagination ran wild considering all the possibilities that could lay inside, knowing that anything he could think up was probably only half as incredible as the reality. Clearly he was not the one with the bigger imagination between the two of them.

“This is something of a prototype,” Tobirama told him. “It’s something I tinker with every once in a while to clear my head when I hit a brick wall in one of my other projects and it’s something that- well I didn’t exactly have you in mind when I first conceived of it but I can certainly picture you wielding this on the battlefield.” His eyes took on a slightly manic glint as he spoke and Madara had to admit he really liked that look.

“What’s it do?”

Setting it down, Tobirama turned the scroll so they could both see the kanji for flames painted on to the end.

“My original plan was to harness kinetic energy to mix with the elements so that if someone ever found themselves with low chakra they could use this without the need for any big flashy jutsu. The only element I can’t seem to get it to work for is fire but when I do, well, just imagine the destruction you could cause. Fire that can be thrown a great distance with next to no effort!”  

“Please show me,” Madara breathed, causing Tobirama to laugh a little.

“I said I couldn’t get it to work, remember? I can show you the seal though. Mostly all I’ve been able to do is get it to explode.”

As Tobirama uncapped the scroll to open it up as promised Madara gaped at him stupidly. “You made it explode? With you standing next to it!? I thought Hashirama’s horror stories had to be exaggerated!”

“No, actually he prefers not to think about the worst messes he’s pulled me out of. There was that time with – ah, it’s not that important. We got the leg reattached anyway and I walk fine. I don’t know why he still whimpers whenever I bring it up.” He was rolling his eyes, of all things, while he weighted down the ends of the scroll to help it lay flat on the table.

Madara did what he could to keep his spluttering at a minimum but whimpering or no whimpering that was a story he definitely had to force out of Hashirama later. For now he kept his eyes on the apparently explosive yet otherwise innocuous seal laid out before them. It looked, in a word, complicated. Seals had never been an area he’d given a lot of thought to studying so much of the fūinjutsu arts were lost on him but even he could tell that the one before him was a masterpiece in the making. Most of the ones mass produced for every shinobi to carry, paper bombs and the like, were usually simple looking arrays with a minimalist look to their designs.

This scroll here looked like an intricate art project by a master with particularly steady hands. Writing so small he could barely read it had been carefully inked all the way around the double circle and the inside was a riot of symbols, lines, and nonsense that Madara suddenly wished he understood the purpose of.

“So, first question, what exactly is kinetic energy? Kin means family. Is it like some sort of spiritual connection between your chakra and the chakra of other people you’re related to?” He was sort of proud of himself for his smart idea until he looked up to find Tobirama blinking at him with a completely broadsided expression. Obviously that was not the correct answer.

“While I admire your attempt, no. That’s nowhere close. Here, let me grab a piece of paper so I can draw a diagram for you. People always understand me better with diagrams.”

His husband turned to rummage through the endless notebooks littering his countertop, presumably to find one with room left for more writing. Instead of letting himself get bored waiting Madara bent down to get a closer look at the seal. Even if he didn’t understand a lick of what he was looking at it was still fascinating and strangely beautiful. He could certainly see why someone might choose to study fūinjutsu once they had seen a properly complicated one like this.

If only he had the time to take up such studies.

Curious, eager to impress the man he had come here to be impressed by, Madara lifted one hand to trace the letters around the edges of the parchment. If he could decipher some of them and maybe determine their purpose without being told then maybe he could do a little showing off of his own. Just because he wasn’t trained at this didn’t mean he had no brains between his ears.

“Alright,” Tobirama said as he spun around, notebook in hand. “Now, make sure you don’t touch it because this seal is built to be extremely sensitive so it can be used without actively infusing your cha- MADARA, NO!”

“Shit, I didn’t know!”

“Get back!”

Before he could do more than take in the fact that the seal had begun to smoke under his fingertips Madara found himself thrown backwards and down, his body rolling until he slammed against the door they had come in through. He managed to right himself in time to see Tobirama’s hands slam together, chakra rippling through the air as a barrier flew up between them, and then the lab exploded.

Madara's last glimpse of Tobirama was of his pale face wide-eyed and frantic, his hair turned golden as it was framed with the light of the seal exploding, and in the moments before the concussive blast ripped through the shield protecting him Madara could only think that it was just his luck to screw things up when they had just started going so well.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #fanfiction

[avengersmusings]

FULL NAME: Steven Grant Rogers MEANING: Crown, Wreath NICKNAME: Steve, Stevie, Cap, Daddy MEANING: Steve’s a shortened version of his name; Stevie was a nickname started by his mom and picked up by Bucky; Cap is usually what the team calls him; Daddy is Elise’s name for him :) AGE APPEARANCE: Appears 30, is actually 102 BIRTHDAY: July 4th, 1917 ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Cancer SPECIES: Enhanced Human GENDER: Cis Male ALLERGIES: None SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Bisexual THEME SONG(S): America’s Suitehearts by Fall Out Boy; Dancing with Our Hands Tied by Taylor Swift, Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley; Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOR:  Dark Blonde/Light Brown HAIR STYLE AND LENGTH: Close cut in the back with a little bit extra on top. Think Infinity War style hair.  EYES COLOR: Blue EYESIGHT: 20/20, now. Holy shit it was terrible before the serum. HEIGHT: 6″2′ WEIGHT: 230 lbs OUTFIT/CLOTHING STYLE: The uniform is a must on mission but when he’s being Steve and not Captain America it’s kahkis and plaid shirts and button ups and old man clothes. ABNORMALITIES: None. DISTINGUISHING MARKS(SCARS,MOLES): Stretch marks along hips and stomach area from serum, small injection scars from the serum, and that’s about it. Maybe some moles here and there. SELF CARE(MAKE UP): Steve always looks put together okay, the 40s shoved that into him and won’t let go. FIRST IMPRESSION ON PEOPLE: People either underestimate him because they think he’s a “dumb blonde” or immediately respect him because he’s Captain America. SKIN COLOR: White mixed BODY TYPE/BUILD: Lean, Muscular, built like fucking truck with a tiny ass waist.  DEFAULT EXPRESSION: It’s either “I have no idea what I’m doing” or “you WILL follow orders” there’s no in between. POSTURE: Honestly it depends? Steve makes himself smaller and tries not take up too much space but Cap? Takes up space and commands the room when walking in. PIERCINGS: None. DESCRIBE THEIR VOICE: Steve’s voice has a subtle Brooklyn accent and takes on a softer tone than you’d expect out of him. His voice hardens and deepens when he goes in Captain mode.

RELATIONS:

MOM: Sarah Rogers HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Steve’s mom was his whole world before she died. Sarah took care of him when he was sick and her death almost ruined him. DAD: Joseph Rogers HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: Joseph died when Steve was young, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember how terrible his father was. The man was abusive and the day he got shipped off to WW1 was the best day for Steve and Sarah. SIBLINGS: N/A HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A CHILDREN: N/A HOW WELL DO THEY GET ALONG: N/A OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS: N/A PAST LOVER(S): Peggy Carter (Ex-Crush) CURRENT LOVER: Elise Burke and Bucky Barnes REACTION TO MEETING SOMEONE NEW: Steve can talk to anyone okay, he makes friends with everyone he meets. ABILITY TO WORK WITH OTHERS: Steve is a team player you cannot tell me he isn’t.  HOW SOCIABLE(LONER,ETC): Steve is basically a puppy he’s sociable and outgoing. FRIENDS: The Avengers team, Wanda Maximoff, Elise, Bucky. PETS: Scout, a golden retriever. LEAST FAVORITE TYPE OF PERSON: Bullies, men who take advantage of other people. PARENTAL TYPE(PROTECTIVE,ETC): Protective, Will do anything and everything for his kid. FAVORITE PEOPLE: Elise, Bucky, Clint, Thor, the rest of the Avengers LEAST FAVORITE PEOPLE: Red Skull, Bullies, ignorant people.

PERSONALITY:

..WHEN YOU FIRST MEET THEM: ? Distant, Confident, and Inspiring ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY LIKE YOU): Affectionate, Warm, Funny. ..AS YOU KNOW THEM BETTER(AND THEY DISLIKE YOU): Intimidating, Closed Off, Guarded. FAVORITE COLOR: Blue FAVORITE FOOD: New York Style pizza, hot dogs, anything covered in cheese thanks. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Doggos FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Saxophone FAVORITE ELEMENT: Air LEAST FAVORITE COLOR: Yellow LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Anything from the 40s. LEAST FAVORITE ANIMAL: Emus, the bullies of the animal kingdom. LEAST FAVORITE INSTRUMENT: Honestly none of them? LEAST FAVORITE ELEMENT: Water HOBBIES: Art, slow dancing, warm baths or lounging in sunlight. USUAL MOOD: Friendly and approachable but also keeping a slight aura of leadership.

DRINK/SMOKE/DRUGS: Nope, not really. None of them have much affect on him and he was too sick to get into the 40s habit of smoking. DARK VERSION OF SELF: Most likely brainwashed into believing Hyrda is right, follows any order without hesitate or regard for civilian life, the “perfect Soldier”. LIGHT VERSION OF SELF: Intelligent, quick to make a call that will save as many people as possible, rushing headlong into trouble to help out a civilian. HOW SERIOUS ARE THEY: In Cap mode? Full on serious nothing can make him crack, but as Steve? He’s somewhere in the middle. BELIEVE IN GHOSTS: No. If so his dad would probably be hanging around and he doesn’t want that. (IN)DEPENDANT: Both honestly? Like Steve likes to pretend to be this independent person who doesn’t need help, but he also secretly craves it. So I’d say somewhere in the middle. SOFT SPOT/VULNERABILITY: BUCKY AND ELISE, failing the team or not saving something, doing something without regard to personal safety or well being. OPINION ON SWEARING: Steve won’t curse in public okay, that’s the 40s “good Catholic boy” upbringing in him but in private? He was in the army and BUCKY IS HIS BEST FRIEND :) DAREDEVIL VS CAUTIOUS: Steve “I don’t know what a parachute is” Rogers is the opposite of cautious. MUSIC TYPE: Older, softer music. MOVIE TYPE: Romantic Comedies, Comedies in general, Musicals. BOOK TYPE: History books, and then he gets mad about facts that are wrong. GAME TYPE: Cards, maybe? Those have been around for a while so they haven’t changed that much. COMFORTABLE TEMPERATURE: Steve would rather die than be cold. He enjoys warmer weather and sunshine and just not being cold. SLEEPING PATTERN: Steve’s an old man that’s in bed before 10 and up at like 8. He also takes up A TON of space in the bed and basically smothers whoever he’s sleeping with.  CLEANLINESS/NEATNESS: Steve prefers things to be neat and orderly but isn’t bothered by a little mess. As long as it doesn’t get too bad or become a habit. DESIRED PET: So many dogs. HOW DO THEY PASS TIME: Doodling on scrap papers, boxing, lounging around in sunshine or warm spaces. BIGGEST SECRET: I feel like Steve really doesn’t have secrets? Maybe his dad being abusive because he doesn’t really want to talk about it. HERO/WHO THEY LOOK UP TO: Bucky and Elise. WHAT ANIMAL WOULD THEY BE: A golden retriever. FEARS: Being trapped in a cold, tight space, losing Elise or Bucky, failing the team and causing someone’s death, being lost in time again. COMFORTS: Elise’s perfume and Bucky’s aftershave, running laps with Scout, his mom’s old records, and reruns of old cartoons.

HOW DO THEY ACT WHEN THEY ARE:

SAD: Steve distants himself when he’s sad. A leader isn’t allowed to show weakness and sadness is one. He also likes talking through things that make him sad. HAPPY: Playful, energetic, probably smothering you with his biceps on accident because he gets touchy feely and wants a hug. ANGRY: Depending on how angry; it’s either the “you’ve messed up” face of disappointment or cold fury with biting, harsh words. Fists will also be thrown if he gets angry enough. AFRAID: Again, this is a weakness a leader isn’t supposed to show so Steve tries to hide it as much as possible. He withdraws and hides away until he works it out on his own or someone finds him. LOVE SOMEONE: SAY HELLO TO YOUR NEW BODYGUARD/BEST FRIEND. Steve will literally do anything for someone he loves. Anything. He’s loyal beyond believe and up for anything they ask him. HATE SOMEONE: Steve doesn’t hate that many people but those he does quickly realize that an angry Captain America is not something you want coming at you. WANT SOMETHING: Steve? Allowing himself to get what he wants? Don’t know her. He’s the definition of “waiting over 70 years to tell my best friend i love him” type of guy. CONFUSED: You know that cute look dogs get when they’re confused and trying to work things out? That’s Steve thanks.

HOW DO THEY REACT TO:

DANGER: Danger is Steve’s middle name because he cannot stop himself from running headfirst into it.  SOMEONE THEY HATE WHO HAS A CRUSH ON THEM: Steve gets confused because he still sees himself as the tiny 90 pound scrawny kid and nobody really wanted that. PROPOSAL TO MARRY: Steve’s not against the idea of marriage, but it’s also not something he knows they can really do? So I don’t really know how he’d react to that. DEATH OF LOVED ONE: Each loss feels like a personal defeat for Steve so it’s twice as bad. But after losing pretty much everyone he’s ever cared about (even if Bucky came back) it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. DIFFICULT GAME/MATH/ETC: That’s something that gets tossed aside until he has time to work it out, or send it to someone that can solve it quicker. INJURY: Steve gets injured and doesn’t realize it until after the mission is over like every time they go out. However, if one of his team gets injured, he’s taking down whoever hurt them. SOMETHING IRRESISTABLY CUTE: Steve immediately wants to go over and hold whatever it is. Babies, dogs, you name it. LOSS OF HOURS OF WORK: ........no this doesn’t happen.

KNOWLEDGE:

LANGUAGES: English, ASL, French, a little German. SCHOOLING LEVEL: High School & Some Art School FAVORITE SUBJECT (S): Art, History, & Writing INTERESTED CAREERS: An artist, maybe?   EXPERTISE: Combat, Shield Mastery, Master Tactician, Enhanced capabilities PUZZLES: Puzzles take him a minute but the serum helps him figure them out rather quickly. CHEMISTRY: Chemistry is probably NOT Steve’s forte but he can follow along with basic things. MATH: Again, not his forte but he understand basic things. Plus throwing the shield takes some math skills. ENGLISH: Steve was surprisingly good at English in school, from interpreting things to reading above grade level. It was one of the few interests he had that didn’t make him sicker. GEOGRAPHY: Steve can read and understand maps. POLITICS/LAW: Politics and the Law are Steve’s thing. He frequently fights against people on the internet about their political views and will fight against laws he doesn’t agree with. ECONOMY/ACCOUNTING: The economy doesn’t really interest Steve, but he’s fully aware of the class divide and how bad some people have it. Current situations remind him a lot of pre-Depression times so he tries to help out as much as possible. COOKING: Steve cannot cook, he tries but cannot. SEWING: Sarah taught Steve at a young age how to sew because “if you’re going to keep ruining your clothes it’s time you learned to fix ‘em yourself STEVEN”. MECHANICS: Steve knows OF cars yes. BOTANY (FLOWERS): Besides the fact that flowers are a thing? Not so much. MYTHOLOGY: This is probably another subject Steve doesn’t know much about, it conflicts with his Catholic views he had growing up. DRAMATICS(ACTING,SINGING): God Steve hates even thinking about this because of the Cap tour. Ouch. READING LEVEL: Above average. Steve read for fun while sick so he’s well above where he should be. HOW GOOD ARE THEY AT PLANNING AHEAD: Steve lives off planning ahead okay. It’s his JOB as team leader to be 4 steps ahead of everyone and the bad guys. Rip Steveo.

ROMANCE:

DO THEY TAKE INITIATIVE: No, not really. He’s more content to be pulled around and go with the flow. HOW DO THEY ACT(SHY,ETC): In public? Shy, 40s boy out to play. In private? Probably the same what a loser. GENTLEMAN/LADYLIKE VS KLUTZY: Gentleman-like, please.  GO SLOW VS JUMP INTO: S L O W as fuck. PROTECTIVE: Hi hello have you met Steve? ACT LIKE FRIENDS OR LOVERS:  B O T H. WHAT KIND OF PRESENTS DO THEY BUY: Steve’s always bringing home flowers or gifts just because. Things for Elise to wear or a plant for the house? Also a random homeless puppy? Yeah Steve’s probably brought it all home at some point. TYPE OF KISSER: Honestly, Steve’s probably soft because he’s a soft boy but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times when he can be rough :) DO THEY WANT KIDS: He can’t have them but he wouldn’t mind having one. DO THEY WANT TO MARRY: Yes, even though he really cant. MAKE GOOD OR BAD DECISIONS: Bad decisions are unintentionally made because Steve is a reckless idiot.  ARE THEY ROMANTIC: Y E S. HOW ARE THEY IN BED: Steve likes making sure both Elise and Bucky are well taken care of even at the expense of his own pleasure okay.  GET JEALOUS EASY: Not really? After everything they’ve all been through none of them really have to worry about anything. WIFE/HUBBY BEATER: You mean beating up people that do this? Hell yeah. MARRY FOR MONEY: Nope. FAVORITE POSITION: Steve enjoys being plowed by Bucky while Elise is on top of him thanks. WHAT WOULD HAPPEN ON THEIR DREAM DATE: Naked art time. Just using Bucky and Elise as a canvas and making a mess while doing it? Yes please. OPINION ON SEX: Sex was always something Steve wasn’t really interested in? Mostly because nobody wanted him (or so he thought) but now that he has two people that always want him? It’s a good workout and way to spend time with his two favorite people.

#char: steve rogers #steve: bio