#because more often than not they’re dumb as shit when it comes to real-world practicalities

[thequietabsolute]

Joni and Neil are back on Spotify. Which is wonderful, and very funny. Presumably the new contract renewal Joe Rogan signed with the company for $250 million recently demonstrated that Joe has suffered enough from their little temper tantrum, and has learnt his lesson and can now be rehabilitated.

Thank you Joni and Neil. Not only timeless musicians, but forces for, for erm, medical, social … something and good and things 👏

[anyway, here’s two of my favourites from J & N]

#did either of them release any statement about their return? did they just sort of slink back on there quietly? hahaha #i have this image of Louis XVI fleeing back to Paris FROM Varennes … honestly what was the point in all that? #all because CNN put a green filter on Joe Rogan’s face one day ffs #anyway it’s a lesson we always forget to learn: look to musicians for the ineffable only #because more often than not they’re dumb as shit when it comes to real-world practicalities #n.

[oddygaul]

Oneechanbara Origin

Look, I knew what this game was going in. I wasn’t expecting a fuckin masterpiece. I just wanted a fun, trashy game with big anime titties and a satisfying combat system. And still I was let down.

Credit where it’s due, the animation is actually quite good for all three characters - you can for sure tell that’s where all the effort went here. There’s a lot of really sick keyframing on all the combos, and the incredibly generous hitstop will nearly freezeframe you if you hit enough enemies, which is deeply satisfying if you trigger it on one of the cooler combo poses. Saki’s easily my favorite for this reason; all of her huge arcing launch attacks feel great to land after the huge windup.

Shame, then, that every character basically has three entire combos. Three. I know it’s unreasonable to expect full DMC levels of moveset variety, but this is bottom-of-the-barrel, Dynasty Warriors-ass, one square combo, one triangle combo, and one square into triangle combo stuff. Rough, man. The game tries to add a few systems on top of this to add depth to the gameplay, but they’re so incidental they don’t feel like they add any player expression.

The Cool Combinations are supposed to be this game’s signature system, I think; if you time the next hit in a combo just right, your character flashes a bit with Glowing Anime Power and the move will come out faster and charge your energy up a bit. It’s kind of reminiscent of the Exceed system on Nero’s Red Queen, except… way less impactful and not as cool lol. Your game has to be really damn good for me to even consider engaging with any system that requires me to memorize the timing of every single one of a character’s attacks - hell, DMC5 fucking rules and I still haven't taken the time to practice getting consistent exceeds - and if the system is even more finicky than usual due to the timing constantly changing due to the massive hitstun when fighting groups… I’m good, man.

The two tiered berserk system is kinda fun; aesthetically, I’m here for the big dumb Kill la Kill-lookin Baneful Blood forms. But between the fact that it triggers automatically and not on-command, and the fact that it’ll often run out almost immediately because it triggered right before you need to sprint down a sewer pipe for 30 seconds (a common occurrence in this game), it feels pretty half baked.

I will say, I was surprised and impressed by how good some of the boss fights are, though. The game’s enemies are largely either hapless potatoes or frustrating little bastards with poorly-telegraphed attack windups, and the larger zombie bosses follow those trends. But man, basically every fight against a sword-wielder turns into a mini-Sekiro fight. Suddenly you remember there’s a parry and a perfect dodge, and you really have to nail them and get the attack patterns down pat to make it through. While it doesn’t have anything like the posture bar, nailing the perfect dodge / parry builds your special meter real quick, so if you’re nailing every evade, the play pattern of most bosses essentially becomes a 100% uptime of your character either doing a flip or an iaido slash, which is fun as hell.

Oh, and my other big criticism of this game is that all the outfits are paid DLC. IMO if you’re making a game with this much Big PS2 Energy, it’s just way more thematically appropriate to have a bunch of stupid costumes to unlock in-game, to give the players a carrot to chase. Miss me with that paid shit.

Eh, I know this is how it goes with B games, I shouldn’t be expecting the world. I feel like lately I’m just used to finding gems in that space, so it’s a bummer to play something that’s about what you'd expect it to be. The search continues! Capcom give new Sengoku Basara pls 🥺

#will's media thoughts / virtual brain repository #games #oneechanbara origin

[separatist-apologist]

Lucien Vanserra + The Villain Theory & Why the Mating Bond Is Not Fake

I've been thinking about this for a while and I've decided I want to debunk this because of all the *insert character that is definitely not the villain becoming a secret villain*, Lucien is most definitely not it.

The theory, according to tiktok, is that Lucien is a secret schemer who has tricked everyone, including Elain, into believing they are mates for undefined, suspicious reasons likely related to Koschei. I find this unlikely considering his "father" is ALSO scheming with Koschei and Lucien likely has some awareness of this considering how often Eris is suddenly hanging around.

This is so long. Everything is under the cut.

However, lets pretend he doesn't. There is consistent, contextual proof that Lucien a) could not make up a mating bond even if he wanted to and b) everyone would know if he had.

Starting in ACOTAR, Tamlin tells Feyre the story of Lucien. On page 160, Tamlin says:

"Lucien said he didn't care she wasn't one of the High Fae, that he was certain the mating bond would snap soon and that he was going to marry her and leave his father's court to his scheming brothers."

Followed up on page 161, Tamlin adds:

"...his father has never apologized and his brothers are too frightened of me to risk harming him. But he has never forgotten what they did to her...even if he pretends he has."

That's ACOTAR. I know SJM likes to change things on a whim, but foundationally, this is Lucien's character and across all five books, it never changes. Lucien is still haunted by Jesminda and the mating bond he lost. He firmly believes, if we believe Tamlin to be a reliable narrator (and we should, as Lucien backs Tamlin's opinion up in his private thoughts. It is also worth noting that if Lucien has a villain origin story, it begins right here, the moment his father beheads Jesminda. To assume he's the villain, we ought to believe that he's been scheming non-stop for at least 200 years (since he's like, 300ish?) and to what end? To kill Beron? He'd have been scheming far longer than Elain was alive.

Moving right along to ACOMAF, on page 619, Amren says:

"And the bond," Amren breathed, Cassian's blood shining on her hands as she slowed its dribbling.

Mor said, "She asked the king to break the bond. He obliged."

I thought I might be dying- thought my chest might actually be cleaved in two.

"Thats impossible," Amren said. "That sort of bond cannot be broken."

"The kind said he could do it."

"The king is a fool," Amren barked. "That sort of bond cannot be broken."

"No, it can't," I said.

This is from Rhys' perspective. A mating bond can't be broken with magic- it's forever. Even rejected or in death (we'll get there), the mating bond is for life. Assuming Lucien's mate was Jesminda, even if it hadn't snapped in death, she would STILL be his mate and death would not have changed that. Neither would any magic Lucien, a spell-cleaver, might possess.

Let's also consider Elain, who has no reason to lie and every reason to call Lucien out regarding the bond. In ACOMAF, page 608, we see this:

"...Elain was staring over Nesta's shoulder. At Lucien-whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain-

Lucien's hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, "You're my mate."

It's Elain who sees him first, who feels the mating bond mere seconds before Lucien. Why choose Elain, if you're going to pick a fake mate for your scheme? The argument is generally that she has the least amount of knowledge about Faeries and no interest in that education but how would Lucien know that? Feyre told Lucien nothing about her sisters (she told Ianthe instead), which means he would have had to guess. Given that Elain fights being put in the Cauldron, there's nothing contextually in that moment that suggests that Lucien somehow knew she was the easier sister to fool.

It's also worth noting that Lucien, up until that moment, still genuinely believes Jesminda was his mate. If he's the villain, having a fake mate makes no sense to the story or his plans.

Feyre has been inside Lucien's mind twice. Once in ACOMAF (pg. 95):

"Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless-"

And again in ACOWAR when Lucien meets Elain for the first time. On page 249, we get the best description of what Lucien is feeling regarding the mating bond, all through Feyre's perspective:

"Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand?

The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn't dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn't yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough.

Touch her, smell her, taste her-

The instincts were running a river. he fisted his hands at his sides."

"But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda."

"Elain had been...thrown at him."

"That circle of people who now claimed to be Feyre's new family...It was what, long ago, he'd once thought life at Tamlin's court would be. An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug."

"But he couldn't breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he'd ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He'd said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the senses chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours."

"She looked away- towards the windows. 'I can hear your heart,' she said quietly. He wasn't sure how to respond, so he said nothing and drained his tea even as it burned his mouth.

'When I sleep,' she murmured, 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. 'Can you hear mine?'

He wasn't sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, 'No, lady. I cannot.'"

These are Lucien's thoughts from Feyre's perspective. He has no idea she's in his head, so why is he thinking all those things? Why feel guilt that he finds her beautiful or that he'd once said all the same things to Jesminda that he thinks about Elain? Why care about her well-being? We know mates are driven to protect and Lucien's very first thoughts about Elain are ones of concern. She's not eating, she's too thin, how can she possibly stand? Not, hahaah my evil planned worked and I totally have an in with the Night Court (which, why would he need considering Tamlin is currently allied with Hybern and Lucien could have taken full advantage of that?).

Additionally, assuming Lucien is faking the mating bond for some poorly defined, evil plot, why keep such distance? Why not force himself on her? That's the claim, right? That he's forcing her to be with him which is amusing because in ACOFAS, Lucien has some thoughts on page 162"

"'How is she?'

'Better. She makes no mention of her abilities. If they remain.'

'Good. But is she still...' A muscle flickered in his jaw. 'Does she still mourn him?'"

First question he asks. "How is she?" Followed by if she's still in love with her ex-fiance. And I can hear the screaming now, "HE ASKED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO OWN HER" but like, on page 165 of ACOFAS, we get:

"I can't stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes."

Truly a stupid plan to fake a mating bond with a person that is causing you to be eaten alive with guilt and longing. We know the second he's around her, Lucien's is overwhelmed with the mating instincts and feels guilt over Jesminda, which is why he spends little time around Elain. He also tells Feyre, on that same page, he doesn't want his life to be financed by Rhysand. Feyre practically begs Lucien to move back to Velaris, to work for her full time, to let her set him up somewhere nicer and Lucien declines it all. If his plan hinged on getting closer to the IC, to using Rhys' resources, why tell her no? Why not take her up on it? Why not make him part of her life in a much more tangible way?

And finally, the dreaded scent of the mating bond. Feyre doesn't risk talking to Rhys when she's in Spring for fear of alerting everyone to the scent of the bond. Azriel, too, cannot stand the smell of it to the point he stands in the doorway during solstice rather than come in.

Ladies, Gentleman, and Non-binary pals of the jury, examine the evidence. For Lucien to be a villain, he has to KNOW that Feyre is a daemati before she does and both leave his thoughts unguarded while constantly assuming she MIGHT be picking through them. He also has to be able to control large amounts of people at the same time via the smell of the bond and Elain being able to feel it. When he tugs, she responds.

It would require everyone around them to be incredibly dumb. Feyre and Rhys basically share a mind and while they don't necessarily trust Lucien (unfairly imo), I firmly believe one of them would have picked up on a fake bond or Lucien's scheming.

Lucien wanted Jesminda, not Elain. If he decided to punish the world around him for the consistent pain he was enduring, he doesn't need Elain to achieve this. He's friends with Feyre. He has contacts all over Prythian. He didn't need to fake a mating bond, nor does it make any sense to do so. What they have is REAL.

And lastly, the bond can't be broken. Rejected, yes, broken no. Regardless if you think they'll keep it or not, they ARE mates and Lucien is NOT the villain who will be heroically slaughtered. They're awkward, they're uncomfortable, they have shit to work out but they ARE mates, and Lucien has proven over and over that all he wants is a home and goddamn peace and quiet.

#lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra meta #anti e*riel #antiv*ssien #anti el/riel #anti v/ssien #theories that are just not based in reality #but are probably interesting twists in a fanfic i wouldn't read

[griavian]

the 36 questions that lead to love

x <- read on ao3

dream finds a list of questions that can supposedly lead to two people falling in love, so him and george try it out on stream. turns out, they don't really need all 36.

“Come on, George. It’s just a couple of questions.” Dream pleaded into the call, making George roll his eyes. He’s been trying to end stream for the past 15 minutes, but Dream always convinces him to go “just a little longer!”.

“36 questions is not just a couple of questions, Dream.” George glances at his second monitor to make sure his green screen was still black and to check a few discord messages. He had no intention to fall into Dream’s trap for another hour of streaming.

“But it says it’ll lead to love!” Dream says, exasperated. He googled ‘questions to ask your friend’ earlier and found a list of them that apparently lead to falling in love. To George, it was bullshit.

“That’s such bullshit.” He expresses.

“You’re no fun.” Dream’s voice lowered, and George can feel the pout Dream has plastered on his face. He can already predict what the next 12 hours would be like with Dream: silent treatment and being a general dickhead. George was used to it when they lived an ocean apart, and even found it amusing, but it was a totally different experience living with him. Dream would mope around, go into George’s room randomly just to not talk to him, and go as far as to blast sad music from his own room across the hall while George was trying to finish up some editing. Sure, it was all light-hearted jokes, and Dream would stop his act in a heartbeat if George was truly annoyed by it, but George still dreaded it.

“Fine.”

Dream immediately cheers up and starts typing on his keyboard while George watches his chat fly by, seeing a lot of emotes and positive messages.

“Okay, um- first question. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom,” Dream mocks the formality, “would you want as a dinner guest?”

George’s nose crinkles. “How is that gonna make me fall in love with you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know! The queen?”

“That’s a stupid answer.”

“What!” George screeches and Dream barks out a laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“You gotta give me a better answer than that, or else we won’t fall in love with each other.”

George rolls his eyes, but decides to think about his answer. Truthfully, he wouldn’t want anyone special as a dinner guest. “Um. My mum.”

George eyes his chat as it’s filled with “aw”s. He almost scoffs.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” George wants to punt Dream into another universe.

“Alright, who would you want as a guest?”

“Tom Brady.”

“That’s the stupidest answer ever!” George yells, his eyes wide, perhaps offended that Dream picked Tom Brady out of anyone else in the world.

“Question two!” Dream ignores, “This one is kinda dumb, but would you like to be famous and if you do, what for?”

George hums. “Probably don’t want to be famous-famous. Maybe being well-known for being the first person to invent IRL-VR. I want my body to be submerged in the Minecraft universe.”

“That’s sick. I dunno what I’d want-”

“You’re already famous.”

“Shut up. I don’t even- I don’t even want to be famous, really. I just want to make whoever knows me smile.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet, Dream.” George teases and he knows Dream waved him off. George has his habits practically memorized.

“Whatever. How about you ask some questions?” Dream sends a link on discord and George reads through them.

“There’s no way these can make people fall in love. What even is this question? Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say and why?”

“Trust the process. I mean, I do that. I don’t want my brain all jumbled up, I guess. Words are hard.” Dream answers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that. I wing it.”

“That’s very you. Next question.” Something about Dream saying that made George smile the tiniest bit, made the serotonin flow through his brain.

“What’s a ‘perfect day’ for you?” George reads. It’s quiet for a moment.

“Hanging out with you,” his voice is sincere, “You and Sapnap. Recording, streaming, anything like that. What about you?”

“Hm. Me too.”

George isn’t one to show his feelings often. He remembers being asked if he did, and he answered with “not ones that matter”. It still rings true to this day. His walls are still built up and that’s okay to George. Mushy feelings aren’t important, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say his heartstrings were playing a beautiful melody during this moment.

The questions and answers fall easily after that. George knows it’s around 1 am, and he should go to sleep, but answering the questions was kind of addicting.

“Do you have a hunch on how you’ll die?” Dream reads the question with a chuckle. “That’s such a weird question to ask someone you wanna fall in love with.”

George tries not to read in between the lines.

“Heart failure. For both of us.”

“You know how I’ll die?”

“We’re Minecraft streamers, Dream. We’ll probably die at 40.” They share jokes and giggles of scenarios where they die and what they’d do, and something about it feels a bit too honest.

“I’ll die the day you die, George. Emotionally and physically.” Dream says, dramatic as ever. George only huffs, and they leave it there.

“Name three things you and your partner have in common. Dream, do you have a secret girlfriend?” They start to bicker back and forth, because of course they do.

“It doesn’t mean romantic partner, you dumbass. Like- it’s like a science partner,” Dream sighs, “Well, we do have a lot in common. We have the same job, we care about the same things, and we love each other! Easy.” Dream answers.

“Who said I loved you?”

“You literally did last night.” George had closed chat a while ago, already prepared for what was to come. He can only imagine what they’re saying.

“They’ll never believe you.” George says with a sadistic grin.

“Ugh. Okay, what are you grateful for in life? You have to answer this.” George can hear Dream get a little closer to his mic, almost anticipating George’s answer. Dream knows how much he doesn’t like to express any feelings, and probably expects him to skip the question overall. George prevails.

“You. Obviously,” and before Dream can get out an aww, George says, “You made my career, dummy, and I’m grateful for that. And my friends, family, all the normal things. Chat! I’m even grateful for chat.”

“Well, I’m incredibly grateful for you especially.” Dream’s voice is soft, almost loving. George rolls his eyes. He could’ve guessed Dream’s answer, but it weirdly hurts him when it was spoken aloud. He doesn’t know whether it hurts because it might be a fun little joke or if it’s because someone might care about him that much. George decides to stop thinking.

They answer more questions, from taking four minutes to tell each other their life stories (“There was no reason to add that detail; you’re so gross, Dream.”) to what significant quality they would want to wake up and suddenly have (“You’re already good at code shit, George. That’s the saddest answer ever.”). They move onto section two of the list, which are deeper questions.

“Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing but haven’t yet, and why haven’t you?” George asks. He knows about Dream’s unfinished projects. There’s probably a million answers to the question, and George would listen to every single one.

“Uh, well. You know I was writing a book, yeah? I was halfway done with it, and I can’t make myself finish it. It’s probably writer’s block, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.” George frowned.

“You can’t finish it with that attitude, silly. You’re annoyingly amazing at everything.” George says with a snort, “I don’t have an answer to this. What did you say that one time? Your future is my future? Well, your dreams are my dreams, then.”

George cringes a little at what he said. He doesn’t know his viewer count, but knows that at least a million people will watch that clip out of context. Dream doesn’t say anything back and moves on to the next question.

“What is your most treasured memory?” Dream asks, and George immediately laughs.

“I definitely know your’s.”

“Do tell, George.”

“Our first Christmas together. Sapnap insisted on getting a real Christmas tree, and when we started decorating the stupid thing, Sapnap sees a spider and screeches. Then, our neighbors come knocking on the front door and you had to explain to them that nobody was being murdered, it was just your roommate being a big baby. And as if it could get any worse, I got tree-sap all on my fingers and clothes and you couldn’t help me because you were laughing too hard.”

“Pretty sure I almost choked on my own spit.” Dream adds, and George scoffs. “But no, that’s not my treasured memory.”

George sputters. “What? You’re telling me I told that to thousands of people for nothing?”

“To be fair, you were all soft on Christmas morning, so our first Christmas might be your treasured memory. Anyways, remember the first time you helped me with a code?” George stays silent, giving Dream the answer. “Well, that was the first time we had a real conversation. I made you laugh, then I started to laugh because you laughed, and we didn’t get the code done. It sounds dumb, but I always smile whenever I think about it.”

George’s face falters a bit. God, he just wants to hug Dream; he wants to make a beeline for his room and attack him with affection and make sure he knows that George loves him, platonically or romantically, George wants him to know.

He just can’t express it with words.

“That… sweet.” George’s eyes travel down the following questions and panics, seeing how personal the questions are. He fakes a yawn. “As mushy and stupid this thing is, I’m really tired.”

Dream doesn’t say anything. It almost scares George, but he deafens on Discord and bids farewell to his viewers, who were completely freaking out. George doesn’t blame them. He’s abruptly leaving after a sweet moment? That’s a recipe for disaster, and George knows better. Yet, he clicks the end stream button.

The door to his office swings open instantly and startles George. It was Sapnap, someone he didn’t particularly want to see.

“What the fuck was that?” His roommate whisper-yells.

George groans and slides deeper into his chair, covering his face. “I don’t know,” he muffles.

“Are you even trying to hide your feelings at this point?” He can hear Sapnap close the door and flop on his office’s couch. “You might as well buy a billboard that says ‘I’m in love with my best friend! His name is Clay!’ with a big ass picture of your dumb face beside it.”

“I know,” George whines. “Do you think he knows?”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about knowing. I’ve told you a million goddamn times that he’s too whipped to notice. I’m worried about the fans. They’re gonna go fucking bonkers because of this stream. Clips are gonna be shared. People are gonna speculate.”

George uncovers his face and narrows his eyes at his friend. “Thanks for the reassurance,” he deadpans.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious, dude. I know you’re very deeply in love with him in the gayest of ways, but you gotta be careful in front of the fans.”

“Oh my God. I know, Sapnap! I know. I forgot we were even streaming. It felt like it was just the two of us, and I got too comfortable. And it was so nice. I can’t even do anything about it now, so it doesn’t even matter.”

Sapnap sighs and pulls himself from the couch. “You need to talk to him before this gets out of hand. You know I love ya, and that I’m here for you.” George cringes out of habit, but nods. It reads as ‘I love you too, I guess’.

Sapnap leaves without another word, and George is left alone with his thoughts. It’s not long before he sluggishly makes his way back to his bedroom. He opens the closed door, enters, and shuts it. He turns around, only to be greeted by a familiar person in his bed, and yelps.

Dream laughs. He’s wearing blue pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair looks messed with, and his cheeks seem to have more color to them. George can’t help but stare.

“Well? Aren’t we gonna finish it?”

George cocks an eyebrow.

“Finish what?”

“The questions, dummy. You don’t… you don’t have to. I mean, it’s kinda stupid that I want to do it in the first place, but…” Dream trails off. George hops on his bed and grins lightly.

“Go for it.”

They answer questions they skipped, like what is your most terrible memory (“My, uh, grandma. She died when I was about 14. It was… hard on me.” “Oh, George…”).

The overhead light was off at this point, the only light coming from a lamp on his desk and the stars shining through the window. The two are on their sides, Dream on the right of the bed and George on the left, facing each other, occasionally looking at their phones to ask the questions.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” Dream asks, his voice softer than ever. George can almost not answer. He doesn’t know.

“I’ve never been a super affectionate person, so I don’t know. I’ll give you guys quick hugs of course, but with really close relationships, I don’t know what to do.”

Dream looks as if he’s searching for something in George’s face, and George can’t tell what he’s looking for. His movements are hesitant, George sees.

“Do- um. You wanna maybe,” Dream pauses, closes his eyes,and scrunches up his face. “Try?”

“Try what?”

“Affection.” Dream lets out a breath and opens his eyes. “Affection is my strong suit, afterall.” His mouth forms into a teasing smirk despite his eyes showing nervousness.

“Um. Take the lead.”

It’s slow. So, very slow. Dream’s hand raises up and lands itself on the dip of George’s waist. He’s whispering instructions, and George listens. His hands are hung around Dream’s neck, and their legs are starting to tangle together. They laugh when they realize how far apart they are, and Dream pulls him closer. George can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he lays his head where Dream’s right shoulder meets his neck.

“Do you want me to ask the rest of the questions, sweetheart?” It sounded like a coo, and George is surprised at how effortless the pet name comes out of Dream’s mouth.

“Was that okay?” Dream whispers after a moment of George going still. He perks up.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dream pulls George closer and rests his left hand on his back. He starts rubbing up and down in slow motions.

George simply melts.

The questions and answers go by slower, and their voices become gentler. Dream announces that they’re on section three now, and to state three true “we” statements. Dream goes first.

“We… are cuddling?”

“Obviously, idiot.” George chuckles. “We are really tired?” Dream hums.

“We meant everything we’ve said tonight.”

“We are going to mean everything we say tonight.”

“You can’t just steal my answer.”

“Just do your third one.”

“We will be ‘Dream and George’ forever.”

Forever is a long, long time. And yet, Dream’s statement is still true.

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Very vague.”

“Next question, Dream.”

“Alright, alright. Complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone whom I could share…’”

Without a second thought, George replies, “My emotions with. Your turn.”

George swears he felt Dream squeeze him.

“My everything with. Every single little thing. Physical, metaphorical, emotional.”

“Even Patches?”

A laugh.

“Yes. Even Patches.”

“Next question.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them and be very honest.”

“Your voice. It’s like… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Does it get you going, George?”

“Shut up. I definitely don’t like your smart-assery.” George can feel Dream lean down into George’s shoulder and smile. “I like how you act around people. It’s always different depending on the person. Different with me.”

“I like how you act around people too. You’re almost always bubbly, even though you like to say you aren’t. And, God, your laugh. It’s so overwhelming, but in the best way possible. You have no idea how many times I’ve said the stupidest shit just to hear your little laugh.” George digs his head deeper into Dream’s shoulder. “I also… really like it when you say my name. My real name.”

George raises slightly, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence. “Clay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that.”

“Clay,” George whispers.

“George.” Dream sounds weak. So, very weak. George gets closer to his ear.

“Clay.”

George can’t tell if he’s joking.

“You’re gonna kill me, George.”

George’s lips brush against the outer of Dream’s ear, and his friend shivers. He decides this isn’t a joke anymore. He thinks the invisible line they had drawn in the sand many years ago has been kicked and stomped on to the point where neither of them remembers the line being there. George goes further.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” George is still whispering, slowly brushing his lips across Dream’s jaw, and the hands around his waist get the littlest bit tighter.

George finally raises his head to meet Dream, who was a mess. His cheeks are glowing and his eyes are almost bloodshot. His breath is labored and his hands are shaky.

“Calm down, love.” George whispers and raises his right hand to meet Dream’s cheek, who leans into the touch.

“Kiss me.” Dream begs quietly, as if saying anything louder would shatter the moment in little pieces.

An adrenaline rush fills George’s veins. “Anything you want,” he says, and closes the gap.

The kiss is soft. Dream is maneuvering their bodies to be more comfortable, meaning George is pulled on top of Dream. Their lips didn’t part once.

They move together in harmony, both in the kiss and their bodies, putting everything they got into it. It was unsaid feelings and years and years of thoughts, and George felt every single one of them. George is straddling Dream’s middle and Dream is leaning up to meet George’s touch. His hands are rubbing up and down and squeezing George’s hips and George’s hands find their way into Dream’s hair. It’s perfect and imperfect and everything George has been waiting for, yearning for.

They part, and Dream pushes their foreheads together. George assumes they look dumb, but how could he care in this moment?

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Dream says, his breath tickling George’s mouth. He lets out a breath and breaks out into a smile. His hands start brushing through Dream’s hair and George backs away to get a good look. Dream is staring back.

George lunges forward and wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, sending him flat on the bed with an “oof”.

“Jesus Christ, George. A warning would be nice.”

“I love you. I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-” George couldn’t get enough of saying it. George’s dam cracked when Dream held him and fucking exploded when they kissed. He doesn’t have to hold back anymore, so he doesn’t.

“Slow down, baby.” Dream says through a chuckle. He makes George lean up with tans hands on pale cheeks and a lot of eye contact. “I love you, too.”

George’s breathing slows down to a normal, less-adrenaline-filled pace, and Dream kisses him again. George forces his head back up.

“What does this mean for us?”

“Isn’t it a little obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Boyfriends, George. We’re dating now.”

“How do you know I wanted to even be your boyfriend.” George narrows his eyebrows in faux-suspicion.

Dream’s stare is blank. “I mean. You’re- well- you know, um-”

George dismisses this shortly and confirms, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

Dream sighs in relief. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” George slides off Dream’s waist and lays facing him. Dream turns as well. “Was that question the last question?”

“No, actually. There were a few left.” Dream blinks, then muses, “Guess we didn’t need 36 questions after all.”

“That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said and I hate you for it.”

“You wound me, George. You wound me.”

George makes up for it by letting himself be engulfed in Dream’s embrace, and feels tiny kisses on the top of his head. George nuzzles closer.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine.

#idk how to tag this but um anyways u should read this #I SPEEDRAN THIS SHIT IN 3-4 HOURS #dnf fic #dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound fic #dnf fic rec #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound

[officialgritty]

How I Would Humble NHL Players

An essay written by bigboigritty. 

I would humble hockey players the only way I know how to, by sending them to Australia. Let’s suppose that they have decided to hold the All Star game over here (forget about it’s usual date) (forget that some players I have listed below might not be invited) (and while you're at it, please forget that Australia’s rinks are Not Good).

I think that they would suffer but in an entertaining way so it’s fine. 

First of all, their biggest concern is getting sunburnt. It would effect all of their dumb asses but I’m particularly worried about Pierre-Luc Dubois and Mitch Marner. Boys are practically translucent. Vince Dunn would be fine, he’d probably wear a shirt most of the time which is a very smart decision. 

You may wonder why I didn’t mention Nolan Patrick because I am a certified slut for him, well I don't think he would have a problem. He would spend most of the time inside and when he joins the others, I think his Virgo ass would reapply sunscreen. Maybe he would burn slightly but I don't think it'd be enough to make him uncomfortable. 

Another thing that I think they will gain from this experience is a higher pain tolerance. Now you’re probably thinking, “Zoe they are NHL players so they can handle pain.” Wrong.

Real pain is running barefoot on cement at theme parks while you race to get to the next ride. Also getting into the car and having to avoid touching every piece of metal to not get branded like a cow. Or better yet, when the heat gets so bad that there’s a black out because everyone has their air conditioning turned on.

Don’t get me wrong, I know that other countries have scary animals but I would pay to see them panic over ours. Crocodiles here can grow up to 5.2 metres / 17 feet. We have a box jellyfish season where it’s advised to avoid swimming or wear wetsuits for coverage. Funnel web spiders can survive underwater for hours by trapping air bubbles around their skin. We have several of the worlds deadliest snakes present across the country. 

Listen, I don't want anyone to get injured but the constant fear that they would have when doing anything would be enough to make me happy.

My biggest question is who would survive in the shady areas, who would survive the eshays?

Under no circumstances can you look them in the eyes or cross their path. They are not to be feared individually but in groups caution is advised. I think the players would attempt to assert dominance and that is simply not an option. You are better off to ignore the eshay.

Nolan would have no issues here if im being honest. He is big and I don't think they’d find it worth it to fuck with him. But you know who they would target? Matthew Tkachuk. “Where are you going pretty boy?” “Oi braa did we hurt your feelings ya pussy cunt?” They would make fun of his hair in particular. 

Travis Konecny would be an eshay. I don't think I need to make further comment. (So would Louis Tomlinson but I am not a 1D account and I will continue to repeat that until it’s true.)

I would also give them a few iconic tasks to get the true Australian experience. Activities for the ‘vacation’ include triathlon events, beach flags, bush walking and climbing the harbour bridge. They could attend a cricket match but they tend to like golf so unfortunately they would probably enjoy this :(

AFL is an extremely popular sport here and I think they would loose their shit when they learn the rules of this game. No protective equipment is used other than mouthguards, that's it. That’s all you get. And jumping onto other players for leverage is encouraged. I would thoroughly enjoy the fights that would break out because of this.

Another task would be to use a map to make their way to a servo for a slurpee. The catch is that they will be required to pass through multiple alleyways. Also, the season is Spring, it’s swooping season mother fuckers. Let’s see how brave you are when birds chase you down the block. Personally I don’t think any of them would pass this test, maybe McDavid because the birds may not be able to detect a heartbeat.

Australian food would disgust them, I just know it. Things that they would need to try are a Bunnings sausage sanga, fairy bread, lamingtons, baked beans on toast, Milo and Vegemite. Because I’m me I would give them no butter with their Vegemite. 

An after thought I had was money so I’m editing this to include it. Everything here is EXPENSIVE so they would need to learn how to budget. Upon doing research, Canadians would be fine but the Americans will be mad.

1000 CAD = 1019 AUD

1000 USD = 1297 AUD

Another after thought was the fact that they won’t be able to drive (or at least drive well) here. We drive on the left and not the right, same goes for walking paths too. I can sense a lot of them bumping into people.

Where I think players would live based on vibes alone:

Carter Hart and Vince Dunn: North Shore Beaches, NSW. Daddy’s money. Carter probably did Nippers whereas Vince was a skater boy. 

Travis Konecny: Darwin, NT. Would 100% live there and enjoy it. He would try to conduct crocodile tours but gets assigned to feeding the baby crocs and doing shows for little kids. 

Tyson Barrie: Perisher, NSW. One of the only ski resorts we have to offer, major friendly mountain man energy.

Nolan Patrick: Byron Bay, NSW. @antoineroussel enlightened me, steering away from my original thought of Katoomba, NSW. Byron Bay is a magnet for hippies and links rainforest to the ocean. Chris Hemsworth and his family also live there.

William Nylander: Perth, WA. I don’t know much about Perth other than they wouldn’t shut up about partying while the other states had to quarantine. For some reason, I also associate Perth with Tik Tok. 

Sidney Crosby and Connor McDavid: Melbourne CBD, VIC. These two would live in the same apartment building in the city, Connor one level above Sidney. It’s the most boring looking block of them all and Crosby would send in complaints to the landlord about McDavid pacing during the night.

Tyler Seguin: Surfers Paradise, QLD. Party central, not many people are actually from this area and he would be sure to tell absolutely everyone that he was. I also think he would get a Meter Maid tattoo, specifically on his leg. Has definitely slept on the beach before because he couldn’t find his way home.

Jamie Benn: Hobart, TAS. Tasmania is usually forgotten about. Another one with mountain man energy except he is more creepy than friendly.

Mitch Marner: Fitzroy, VIC. @antoineroussel is responsible for this one too. Hipster central, makes you question how the hell someone so young can have so much money. Would chug $45 wine and not blink an eye.

(honourable mentions include = Sammy Blais: Hobart, Tas. Once again no comment on Tasmania. TJ Oshie: Cairns, QLD. Would do reef tours. Haydn Fleury: Western Sydney, NSW. Haydn would 100% own a ute or a white holden commodore and you can’t tell me otherwise. Roman Josi: Adelaide, SA. Small town history teacher vibes.)

I have attached a handy map for those who may need it.

In conclusion, the NHL should send their players over here to teach them some manners and while they’re at it, management should bring themselves too. Nolan Patrick could pass as an Australian if he built up a tan. (So does Nylander in this picture but we won’t talk about that.) Come over anytime baby, I’m free. 

Glossary

Servo - A service station, also known as a petrol or gas station. Example: 7/11

Theme park - An amusement park. Can be said in reference to both normal parks and water parks and usually means those in QLD. Example: Six Flags

Swooping season - August to October in Australia. When birds attack and chase humans and / or pets for getting close to their babies. Magpies are notoriously bad for this. 

Bunnings sausage sanga - A cheap feed / meal found at the front of a hardware and gardening store called Bunnings. Made up of white bread, sausage, onion and your choice of sauce.

Fairy bread - White bread with margarine and topped with 100s and 1000s / sprinkles. 

Meter Maids - Women who work along the beach dressed in gold bikinis. They top up parking meters to save tourists from getting fined and will often stop for photos. 

Nippers - Surf lifesaving programs carried out for children between 5 and 14. 

Ute - A pick up truck.

Eshay - A person who partakes in drug use, graffiti, listens to EDM and targets victims in groups. Below is the typical style of an eshay. 

Tagging a few friends so this doesn’t completely flop but feel free to ignore if it isn't your thing. I won’t be offended lmao

@scheifefe @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself @d00dlebob @bowenbyram @kempe @prettyboyroope @quintonsbyfield @travisgermy @pitoftrash @kspitehockey @ballsakic @canadianheaters @bricksatlandyswindow @powerblais @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @jamiedrysdales

#also feel free to send asks if you want more ‘where are players from?’ #I’d give a better explanation in single posts #none of this is serious if you couldn’t tell #its all out of love #nhl #hockey #travis konecny #tyson barrie #nolan patrick #sidney crosby #also enjoy the magpie picture #connor mcdavid #william nylander #mitch marner #vince dunn #tyler seguin #jamie benn #carter hart #I refuse to read this again so ignore any mistakes #I feel like I had a fever dream writing this so I only hope you feel the same after reading it #I’m scared of birds can you tell? #z does other stuff

[yikesharringrove]

Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).

I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable

Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)

Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.

-

Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.

He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.

His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.

He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.

He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.

-

Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.

He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.

Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.

Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.

Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.

But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.

And Steve was in love.

So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.

He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.

“‘Time is it?”

“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.

He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.

He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.

He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.

He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.

Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.

So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.

“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.

But Billy didn’t move.

“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him. 

Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.

Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.

Pretend that Billy loved him back.

-

He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.

“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled lazily at Billy.

“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.

“Probably not. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.

And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.

Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.

-

Billy had skipped town that night.

And Steve never forgave himself.

-

Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.

“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”

“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”

“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”

“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.

“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”

“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

-

Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.

He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.

Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.

She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.

“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“You’re pregnant.”

He blinked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”

“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”

“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”

“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”

“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”

“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.

“What are, what are my options?”

“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”

“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.

“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.

“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.

“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.

“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.

He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.

He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.

She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.

-

“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.

Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.

“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.

“She know where he is?”

“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”

“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”

-

Steve was right.

Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.

They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.

And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.

A baby. He was having a baby.

And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.

-

His parents were home for four days.

And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.

He’s glad he did.

Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.

“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”

His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.

“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”

And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.

“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”

And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.

And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.

His mother didn’t look at him as he left.

-

He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.

Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.

She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.

Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.

-

Steve groaned.

He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.

But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.

He bat away whoever was shaking him.

“Go away.”

“Steve, it’s Max.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.

“You, where is he?”

“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.

“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.

“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.

“Yeah. He’s the other father.”

“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”

“I know.”

“He’s not like that.”

“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.

“Are you gonna write to him?”

“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”

-

It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.

He didn’t really know what to say.

He settled on the bare minimum.

I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.

He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.

I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.

He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.

And then his contractions started.

He didn’t get around to sending it.

-

Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.

She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.

And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.

-

Steve was slumped face down on the bed.

He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.

He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.

He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.

He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.

He sat up quickly.

Fuck. He needed to send that letter.

He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.

He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.

-

He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.

He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.

He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.

He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.

He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.

Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.

His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.

“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.

“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.

“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.

Billy held him like he was made of gold.

“He’s beautiful.”

“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”

“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.

“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.

“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”

Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.

“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”

“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”

“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”

“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”

“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.

“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.

“I’d like that.”

#kinda open ended but this shit was getting LONG #yikes writes #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #mpreg #trans!steve harrington #trans!steve #trans steve #trans steve harrington

[kewltie]

college au katsuki is prelaw who gets the thrill of verbally eviscerating people in court just as he does outside of it, trading fists for words but the punch is all the same and izuku is a premed student who wants to save the world one person at a time but also lives on 24hr caffeine addiction. they're former childhood friends who got reacquainted again as dormmates in their freshman years in college and now they're sorta maybe something more but who the fuck even know because they refuse to acknowledge this tentative and fragile relationship between them especially with the turmoil of their shared past.

So katsuki would go out of his way to deliver five coffees for izuku's late night study session in the library. izuku often helps katsuki practice his mock trial and supports katsuki in his mission to tear into his opponent and make them cry. OK MAYBE NOT THE CRYING PART but still proud as fuck. izuku's sleep cycle is consistently fucked because he's always pulling late night studying sessions plus he got all these volunteerings so katsuki would find izuku sleeping randomly in odd places so to make sure he doesn't FUCKING ROLL OVER AND DIE he quietly tucked izuku into bed whenever he catches him sleeping on his desk or some random bench at their campus’ courtyard. While katsuki get really obsessed and competitive with maintain his consistent ranking as the stop student in his class and often hounds the professor when he get a 98 instead of 100 on his term papers and they're like, 'please someone get me midoriya-kun' as an emergency to wrangle katsuki back.

They have a super close and intimate non-relationship where it is THE RUMOR AND SPECULATION OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! katsuki coming to pick izuku up from his late night study sessions and dragging his tired ass back to their dorm across campus!!!! izuku attending every one of katsuki's debate competition and CHEERING HIM ON and professore is tired of saying, ‘midoriya this isn't a concert please calm down’. like they the fact they AREN'T DATING make the rumors even worst because everyone either assume they're FUCKING DUMBASS FOR NOT SEEING THE OBVIOUS or they're having a secret relationship on the downlow but still being obvious BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBASS but either way they're still dumbasses lol.

worst is that the campus has a yearly best couple competition and bakudeku had been crowned three times since their enrollment and THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING,,, or so they claimed but pictures of them holding hands, snuggled up in a reading nook in the library, and aggressively feeding each other food say otherwise. it became the biggest joke because they're IT COUPLE ON CAMPUS and THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING. JUST TWO DUMB BROS being so intimately close that izuku wears katsuki's debate team jersey to class one day with BAKUGOU KATSUKI NAME ON HIS BACK and doesn't even blink when someone point it out.

i have this image of katsuki dragging izuku's sleepy ass across campus because they ARE NOT GOING TO BE LATE for their 8:30am class. izuku spent all night revising his term paper for another class due online at 8am so he's lon living on 9 cups of coffee and an hour of sleep. izuku doesn't even have time to change out of his pajamas before katsuki literally hauled izuku out of their dorm because katsuki had never been late to a class let alone MISS A DAY so he's not letting izuku DRAGGED HIS ASS DOWN lol even though he could have easily gone without him.

they scrambled across campus ground with izuku in his pjs still and NOBODY EVEN BLINK when they burst into the lecture hall with a min to spare. katsuki dumps izuku's sleepy ass in the seat next to his because everybody is kinda use to the 'bakugou and midoriya's show' by now. they dont often take the same course together because of their different majors (law and med) but they always lean toward taking the same elective when they can. so every semester there’s a hotly combative debate about what elective they should take together where it eventually into a war everytime lmao. izuku tends to pick wiLDLY DIFF ELECTIVE EVERYTIME that is humanity base (they took human sexuality one semester and katsuki is still mad about it) while katsuki leans toward classes have real world practicality like ceramics where izuku still kept all of katsuki's cutely shaped mugs.

izuku doesn't even have his notebooks or even his bag because katsuki had grabbed him and go, but katsuki is diligently taking notes next to him, his cellphone is recording the lecture and he got the lecture powerpoint outline printed out. he always come prepared and ready to destroy the class' curve!! while izuku is TRYING V V HARD not to doze off but when he nods off a little as his head about to drop, katsuki without even pausing mid-writing just pulls him back by the collar of his shirt so his head doesn't bang on the desk and it's JUST--!! so simple and dumb but it's INTIMATE!!

when izuku seems to lose the fight with sleep, katsuki brings a hot thermo with coffee in it to izuku's lips and lets him take a sip of it. NOT TOO MUCH because izuku doesn't need anymore to feed his caffeine addiction, but enough to keep him awake just few more mins. izuku is barely cognizant but sometimes the fact that he would raise a hand mid lecture to ask a serious question about the topic at hand is scary to the other students because they all remember that katsuki and izuku are top ranking in their class for a reason even if izuku is a zombie right now. this elective class is about erotica in classics because lol it's izuku turn to pick elective this semester and even tho KATSUKI ABSOLUTE LOATHES IT he's going to fucking ace this damn class even if he has to stare at several thousand years old art of people fucking on a wall.

bkdk are like giant enigma for the class because they take their grades V V V SRLY and consistently wreck the class average but they look like they dont give a single fuck about it because izuku is in his PJs and NODDING OFF IN CLASS while katsuki looks like he would rather die than be here. bkdk is fame not only because they (jokingly) keep winning best campus couple award every yearr EVEN THO they're not dating but because they do shit like izuku is nodding off on katsuki's shoulder while he doesn't seem to even care and/or notice as he debates the prof on a finer detail of the lecture.

once the class is over katsuki half drag and half-carry izuku out of there. he has a class right after this I ten mins and izuku doesnt, but he doesnt have time to drop izuku off at the dorm so he takes izuku with him to his next class like he's just an extra accessory he could bring LMAO. izuku is not even enrolled in the class which is political science class but katsuki deposits him in the seat beside him and lets izuku actually NAP this time as he pay attention to the lecture, throwing his coat over izuku's sleeping form as he snuggles up to katsuki while entire class tries not to stare too much. by the end of the afternoon the entire campus sns is lit up with receipts, recaps, and slyly taken photos of bakudeku's shenigans. there is even a popular running blog where anons can submit their bkdk's encounter stories chronicling their 'WEIRD MATING HABITS OF BAKUDEKU' lol because they are the cryptid bfs of the entire campus that everyone warn each other about but nobody can stop watching this trainwreck from happening.

#bakudeku #not!fic #college au

[cockasinthebird]

I dreamt last night that Billy and Steve were both hospitalized after the event at Starcourt

Steve in Urgent Care, being watched closely by the government to ensure that the Russians hasn't fitted him with any odd devices like maybe a tracker or some kind of mind control chip, and of course to ensure that whatever drug he was on earlier doesn't have any serious side effects, but he's fine, really, and this is all too annoying to deal with, he just wants five minutes alone

Billy is in the ICU, barely alive, rarely awake, drifting in and out of consciousness, doctors and machines everywhere, some people in lab coats followed closely by big guards. It would be so easy for this to be the end of him; he could just give up now and drift away, finally a way out that isn't really his fault in the end, so maybe he can go out like a hero, being remembered for having saved El and Max and everyone else in the world practically

But then he sees Steve, dressed in his own hospital gown, hair a limp mess, face bloodied, but... smiling. Billy can't talk, can't smile, for he's got a tube going down his throat, hair shaved off and an ugly scar where the scientists and doctors got a good look at his brain to see the after effects of having been “mind flayed”, whatever the fuck that means, and his entire body aches near constantly - the morphine doing a shit job

Steve mumbles something about just wanting to see how he’s doing, talks about himself too, how he’s fine and just wants to go home, but they’re keeping him here because it’s easier to keep an eye on him that way, and Steve might not be as dumb as Billy thought once

And Steve sits down on a chair he’s pulled up next to Billy’s bed, and turns on the tv

They watch Jeopardy together, at 3am, Steve getting almost all the answers wrong as he guesses along, and Billy wants to laugh, but doesn’t feel like he’s physically capable of even that

The next day Steve shows up again three times; breakfast, lunch, dinner. Sometimes he talks, sometimes he just eats in silence, but Billy doesn’t really care either way, he’s just happy he’s not alone

Steve mentions that Max really wants to visit, but she’s not allowed to, some big brutes in suits stand guard and keeps everyone away. Neither of them really know why they allow Steve to visit, but they’re not going to complain about it

Sometimes Steve shows up at night, turns on the tv and leans against Billy’s bed. He looks exhausted, bags heavy under his eyes, no glow to his usually somewhat cheery expressions, and Billy wants to ask what’s wrong, but the tube remains in the way, and neither of them talk 

Eventually Steve falls asleep, head on his arms that rest crossed near Billy’s legs. And he doesn’t wake up till a nurse at 5am asks him kindly to go back to his own room and get some rest there

After about two weeks, give or take, Billy can’t tell time anymore, Steve shows up in a set of fresh clothes that Dustin and his mom brought, because he’s being discharged from the Hospital, and promises to come visit as often as he can, but he’s not allowed to drive yet after… everything that has happened, but he will be back

And he visits several times a week at first, Billy never doubted it, but as Steve returns to the real world out there, he shows up less and less. Every time he does visit he apologises profusely, and talks about his “normal life” and how everything is - how everyone is doing, and he asks Billy how he’s doing, but all he can do is nod

Not that he’d tell the truth if he could

The day comes when Billy finally gets the tube removed, and although he hasn’t spoken in nearly two months, hoarsely he asks for them to call for Steve and have him come visit

And Steve smiles big when he sees Billy doing the same, which is an odd experience for the both of them, because whatever hatred they had for each other got knocked down a notch when Billy sacrificed himself, and through the last month or so it has almost grown to friendship

After that Steve visits far more regularly, always with food that definitely isn’t a part of a healthy diet, but it tastes fucking amazing compared to the hospital food

They talk and talk and laugh, watch tv, read magazines, eat. Steve tried to get Billy to play some board games with him but hell no he’s not doing that. It all almost feels normal

What could have been- what should have been

When Billy starts physical therapy, he feels his self hatred amp it up by a thousand, because he used to be strong, be the fucking King around Hawkins, but months of being hospitalised and sewn together and only getting up to shower has made him nearly dwindle away

His tan has started to fade, muscles weak and useless, everything just feels sore constantly, and most movement of the legs feel dull and weirdly impossible, and as he has thought so many times during this process, he should have just died. They should have let him

But… Steve’s there, here, always present, shows up for every session he has with the physical therapist without fail. And Steve’s no less stronger than he was before all of this happened; he supports all of Billy without as much as a trembling muscle, and Billy hates him for it, yet he also… loves him for it, and perhaps that’s scarier than anything else that has happened this year

Or ever

Steve’s present too on the days Billy sees a psychiatrist, not that he wants to see one because he’s not insane or mentally disturbed or- he just doesn’t need help, doesn’t want help really, doesn’t want to be seen as weak, or weaker than he obviously is

But Steve explains that he’s seeing a shrink, too, and shares without restraint his own meetings, as they sit and eat junk food on Billy’s bed after his latest appointment, and honestly Billy doesn’t feel as pathetic or weak when Steve talks about going through the same thing, kinda

Time passes, Steve visits near daily, which is weird because doesn’t he have a job at the video store now? He sometimes talks about that girl Robin, but even half a year later nothing has happened between them, and Billy is oddly relieved at that

He’s come to terms with his unrequited feelings for Steve, feelings that he now knows he’s had from the moment he saw him in that parking lot, what feels like ten years ago now. All that anger came from wanting what he couldn’t have, and now it has simmered down to sadness, depressed to know that one day Steve will find a lucky girl and then Billy will become a second choice, or probably a third if he has to fight Robin for Steve’s attention, too… maybe fourth, what with Dustin and the gang

And he truly believes he can live with that, even if it does make him want to cry, which he rarely did before, but everything has changed now

He’s changed

For the better or worse, he can't quite tell, but now he can make Steve smile and laugh, so he can convince himself it's all for the better

Eventually, after almost a year in therapy and being basically a test subject, he's released on two conditions 

1, he has to stay in Hawkins, no leaving it unless escorted by assigned guards

2, he has to "voluntarily" show up two times a week for tests and check ups

And there's a moment where he doesn't want to leave

Not because of those two conditions, because that'd be better than being hospitalised for the rest of your life, right? 

But because he's not sure where his life is going, where his place is in this world anymore 

Neil won't take him back, but even if that was an actual option, he'd have chosen the uncomfortable hospital bed instead 

He can't go back to school, or rather he's not allowed to, and he can't go back to being a lifeguard, not with all these scars and a general inability to fucking swim

At least here at the hospital he's got some semblance of purpose in life, although it isn't much of a way to live

When he mentions it to Steve he's depressed, downtrodden, completely and utterly destroyed, because there's no place for him anymore anywhere, he'll forever be caught in the limbo of Hawkins

But Steve- he… He places his hand on top of Billy's, warm and soft and grounding, and as he smiles so softly, so lovingly, he says "There's a place for you in my life" 

And suddenly nothing else matters than that, than there, here, in Steve's life

In Steve's hand

#Harringrove #My Writing #fluffy fluff fluff #Angst #kinda #enough for me to tag it #in my dream Steve had an IV drip #but that felt too dramatic tbh

[makeste]

top 20 favorite quirks

okay, but listen, though! it���s exactly what it says in the title. not best quirks, or most useful quirks, or most creative quirks. not even coolest quirks! I did try to take all of these things into consideration when choosing, but honestly? by far the most important factor was, “I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT.”

anyway but let me backtrack and post the actual ask.

you’ll note that at no point was I asked to pick twenty of them. I did that all on my own. so here is my list!

20. Solid Air (Tsuburaba)

Tsubaraba Kousei. all-time undefeated grand champion of The Floor Is Lava. or at least he was until Ochako came along. anyway, so this is an extremely nifty quirk with all sorts of utility ranging from defense to helping him get around. it’s super useful for catching bad guys, and apparently the only real limit is his lung capacity. this quirk has so much potential and I love it.

19. Copy (Monoma)

the fact that he can copy his opponents’ powers and use them against them is badass enough, but add in the fact that he can hold up to 3 (or 4??) of them at once -- for as long as ten minutes -- and this quirk starts getting seriously powerful. anyway so one thing you might note as you read on is that although Copy is on my favorite quirks list, AFO is not! and that’s because Monoma’s limits actually make the quirk much more interesting to me, because they force him (and Horikoshi) to get creative. this is a really fun quirk and I would love to see more of Monoma in action. about time we saw him fight some actual villains and not just class 1-A, honestly.

18. Brainwashing (Shinsou)

as with Monoma’s quirk, what really sets this apart from other mind-control superpowers (to me, anyway) is the fact that it has limitations. he can’t just control anyone at random; in order to take them over he has to get them to respond to him somehow. which leads to innovations like the voice-changer, and which as a result has made his battles so genuinely interesting and fun to watch. anyway so I really want Shinsou to hurry up and join 2-A, and for them to just give him his provisional license all “here you go, son” with no testing whatsoever, because we’re past the point of pretending the HPSC is actually responsible these days, and because I really want to see if he can help turn the tides the next time the heroes battle the League.

17. Zero Gravity (Ochako)

I feel like it’s worth noting that I don’t really have any kind of fear of heights or falling or anything like that. and so I can’t really explain why Toga using this quirk on Ms. Curious and her lackeys was hands down one of the most singularly disturbing scenes in the entire manga for me! but it was!! even now I’m wincing just thinking about it. she just lifted them all up and DROPPED THEM and they just FELL and DIED. just like that. holy fucking shit. anyway, so we should all be very grateful that Ochako is super kind and sweet and more inclined towards helping people rather than murdering them. because holy shit. anyways though this quirk is dope.

16. Erasure (Aizawa)

I once said that this quirk was “not very cinematic”, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so wrong about anything in my life. oh, past me. you truly underestimated the dramatic impact of someone with a terrifyingly powerful quirk going in for the kill, only to be all “NANI?!” as they suddenly realize that their powers are no longer working, and the camera pans over to a man with gorgeous floating hair and intense red anime eyes. I owe you an apology, Erasure. you are cinematic AF.

15. Black Hole (Thirteen)

I really wish we got to see Thirteen fight more often. they suffer from the same “too powerful” curse as so many of the other characters and it’s a shame. anyway so Black Hole is cool af and gives me a ton of Miroku/kazaana vibes, which I freaking love. this quirk is lowkey on a Tomura-level of destructive potential, honestly, and yet no one ever talks about it?? Thirteen could literally destroy anything they touched if they wanted to?? imagine if they ever Awakened, you guys. holy shit.

14. Tape (Sero)

this power is so fucking stupid and ridiculous and completely absurd and I LOVE IT. Horikoshi really drew a skinny guy with tape elbows and was all, “so this kid is basically Spider-Man but with tape. I have not put the least bit of logical thought or creative effort into this power beyond that, and I’m not going to, either.” and somehow we all just accepted it. anyway, dubious origins aside, it’s such a versatile ability and Sero has such amazing control over it. it’s offense; it’s defense; he can use it to set traps; he can use it for maneuverability. TAPE ELBOWS CAN DO IT ALL.

13. Outburst (Ms. Joke)

when will it finally be her time. Outburst is one of those powers that sounds super dumb at first, until you really stop and think what the ability to make someone laugh at will could actually DO to people. true uncontrollable belly laughter is a totally incapacitating thing. she’d have people collapsing to the ground and practically seizing up. and good luck using your own quirk to fight back when you’re doubled over struggling to breathe and can’t even see straight because of the tears in your eyes. that’s assuming any of her opponents are even capable of thinking straight long enough to try it. like, this is such a straight up brutal ability and the fact that we have still NEVER SEEN IT is honestly infuriating.

12. Glamour (Camie)

it’s an illusion quirk. of course I have to put it on my list. illusion powers make every battle approximately 100x more entertaining. and what makes this particular power even better is that in any other series, this quirk would have been given to some Tokoyami-esque super serious emo kid. but BnHA went and gave it to Karen from Mean Girls instead. what a fucking power move. goddamn.

11. Black (Kuroiro)

according to BnHA Ultra Analysis, Kuroiro’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are rated a 4 out of 6. I still haven’t figured out if this is meant to be a burn on him or not. this kid can ninja in and out of literally any dark object in existence. if it’s nighttime, that means he can basically move wherever he wants to at will. of course he’s skilled at Appearing Out of Nowhere. so tell me then, why is it ONLY a four out of six?? how could he possibly fuck this up?? who was grading him?? DOES HE JUST SUCK. I don’t know, but anyway it’s really funny to me and also I really love this quirk.

10. Transform (Toga)

Toga went and Awakened herself right into the top ten with the reveal that not only can she mimic other people’s appearances, but that while she is transformed, she can actually use their quirks. like excuse me, what?? holy shit??? it is honestly driving me crazy that we’ve only seen this in action once. Transform is basically Plot Twist: The Quirk. I really want to see Toga use it to its full potential and infiltrate U.A. and/or spy on the HPSC and/or murder someone with their loved one’s own quirk. I WANT HER TO GIVE SOMEONE THE MAES HUGHES TREATMENT. I want her to do something so shocking that people ragequit the fucking manga lol. I know I’m always saying the manga isn’t that dark, but this is honestly the one exception where I would freaking love for it to get dark as shit. anyway so yeah. if you want to fuck with people you really couldn’t ask for a better quirk.

9. Creation (Momo)

MACGUYVER: THE QUIRK. an unlimited inventory in the hands of someone brilliant enough to actually utilize it to its full extent. what’s not to love? honestly if it were me with this quirk it would be completely useless. not only would I get hopelessly bored two seconds into trying to memorize an object’s molecular structure or whatever, but even if I DID manage to figure out how to make stuff, I would never know what to do with the stuff, or when to use it. every time a new situation cropped up I would just create a bunch of random objects in a panic. but Momo is so elegant in her problem-solving that she often needs to create only one or two things to come up with the perfect solution for something. basically this is a good quirk that becomes a truly great quirk when placed in the hands of the best possible person in the world to wield it. the quirk is awesome because Momo is awesome, and I fucking adore quirks like that (see: next entry).

8. Permeation (Mirio)

ah, Mirio. the original victim of the “too powerful to be allowed” curse. remember that time he BEAT HALF OF CLASS 1-A IN UNDER SIX SECONDS, you guys.  small wonder Horikoshi couldn’t even make it through one complete villain fight with him before he had to de-quirk the poor kid. anyway, so Mirio makes this quirk look so mind-blowingly awesome that it’s easy to forget what a terrifying and fucked-up power it is in reality. “yeah it makes me blind and deaf and if I’m not careful I’ll fall into the center of the earth or splice myself in two or some shit.” what the actual fuck Mirio. but because he’s worked so hard and because Nighteye trained him so well, he’s mastered the timing to such an insane degree that he could kick Overhaul in the face without harming a single hair on Eri’s body. and honestly, there’s no way I could not love a quirk that gave us a moment like that.

7. Warp Gate (Kurogiri)

unlike SOME OTHER PEOPLE whose names start with Kuro, I would bet you that Kurogiri’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are a full six out of six! alas, the top ten of this list is chock full of people whose quirks are so badass that they had to be written out of the story one way or another. with Kuro at large there was technically nothing stopping the villains from just dropping in on U.A. one night to kill All Might, or rekidnap Bakugou, or whatever else they might want to do. and that’s actually a really scary thought though lol so it’s no wonder that Horikoshi was all, “yeah I’ll just have them capture him now.” anyways do you guys remember that one time in chapter 18 when Kuro used Warp Gate to create an endless loop of All Might suplexing Noumu suplexing All Might?? fucking quirks, though. wild.

6. Fiber Master (Best Jeanist)

another badass quirk, another badass quirk-user incapacitated and taken out of the story before their time. Best Jeanist is honestly terrifying. if he wanted to he could immobilize and even strangle and kill pretty much anyone in the world, whenever he fucking felt like it. that alone would be crazy enough, but then add to that that this quirk for all intents and purposes is basically telekinesis. as long as someone is wearing clothing he can move them around however he wants, as we saw in Kamino. basically, everything Hawks can do with Fierce Wings, Jeanist can probably do with his own quirk. AND THAT INCLUDES FLYING, YOU GUYS. the more I think about it the more I think we truly were robbed. I need Jeanist to come back already and fly everyone at Jakku to safety and tie Tomura to a chair with his own cape before proceeding to style his hair.

5. Rewind (Eri)

IT’S MY LIST!! I CAN PUT WHATEVER I WANT, AND IF YOU SAY I CAN’T, I’M TELLING MOM. okay but listen. everyone always rags on this quirk and how stupidly powerful it is, and look, I get it. but isn’t it kind of interesting that everyone is also always speculating over who Eri is eventually going to heal with her quirk? like, fandom is always complaining about how broken it is but at the same time they’re out here hatching all of these wild theories that center around it. and to me that indicates that in truth, this is actually an awesome quirk -- just so long as it’s used right. obviously there have to be some major limitations or else this is just “Fix Everything: The Quirk.” thankfully, Horikoshi did limit it! it’s super dangerous, she has trouble controlling it, and most importantly, it’s ridiculously slow to recharge and so she can only use it once every few months. it’s basically Recovery Girl’s quirk with a bonus slow-replenishing stamina bar that, once charged, allows her to release one ultra-powerful SUPER HEAL special move. and that’s pretty awesome. basically I think this quirk gets too much hate and not enough credit for the additional menu options it adds to the story. it’s interesting and compelling and I can’t wait to see what Horikoshi does with it.

4. Dark Shadow (Tokoyami)

TOKOYAMI WHY IS YOUR QUIRK SENTIENT. Existential Crisis: The Quirk. do quirks have souls?? if you shot Tokoyami with a quirk-be-gone bullet would Dark Shadow fucking die??? if Tomura absorbed Tokoyami’s quirk would Dark Shadow grow out of his back and be all “hey um, who the fuck are you”?? and would Toko’s head turn back into a normal human boy head?? would Dark Shadow look like Tomura instead of a bird shadow?? what even IS Dark Shadow, actually?? obviously it is not just a shadow because shadows can’t punch people or shield people from attacks or pick people up and fly them around. but yet he’s afraid of fire and grows weaker in daylight?? is Tokoyami secretly the strongest character in the entire series?? is there any way I can possibly justify putting this quirk all the way down at #4 instead of #1 where it clearly belongs?? let me answer that question by not answering it and moving on.

3. Explosion (Bakugou)

is the fix in?? is “exploding hands” really a better quirk than a fucking sentient monster man who lives in your belly button and reads your mind and is made of ~darkness energy~ and is your best friend? apparently the answer is yes! to both of those questions. yes the fix is in. I love Kacchan and his quirk is fucking awesome okay. it just never ceases to amaze me how this one single quirk, which really only does one thing, is nonetheless so spectacularly powerful that it allows Bakugou to compete on the same level as the fucking protagonist with all of his godlike super-strength and Main Character Powers and wacky SIXQUIRKS!! shenanigans. in my opinion the coolest thing about Explosion isn’t even its firepower; it’s the way Bakugou’s adapted it to fly around and to boost his speed. I think he legit may be the fastest character in the series right now, or close to it. he’s faster than Iida and Gran Torino and Endeavor. he can keep up with Deku without breaking a sweat. and he knows how to use that speed, thanks to his insane reflexes. add in the fact that this is also without a doubt the most cinematic quirk in the entire series, and I think I’m justified in putting it this high up. and anyway I still put two others up above it so shh.

2. Search (Ragdoll/Tomura)

Hey, What’s That Guy’s Deal: The Quirk. I just really love this one you guys. it’s so fucking useful. Video Game HUD: The Quirk. one hundred people at a time?? locations and weak points?? works even when you’re not looking at the person anymore and have blinked your eyes, unlike CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE’S weak-ass quirks?? check, check, and check. is it any wonder AFO wanted this? plus it just looks so damn cool. the visual representation of everyone as little stars on a map. Turn On Location: The Quirk. okay look I feel like I’m doing a bad job of explaining why I have this quirk all the way up at number two. it just has this subtle badassness to it, and its introduction after almost two hundred chapters of buildup was just so fucking cool. maybe it’s recency bias?? I don’t even know; all I know is that I love this quirk and want to see more of it in action.

1. Blackwhip (Lariat/Deku)

listen, I was obsessed with this quirk back when it was called “Venom” and was by far the absolute coolest part of the 1990s Spider-Man cartoon series. I’m not just going to suddenly not be obsessed with it just because fandom is mad that Horikoshi gave Deku an additional power beyond just Smashing Stuff. Blackwhip is hands down the coolest quirk, guys. I’m sorry, it just is. it has the coolest name. it had the coolest entrance. it does basically anything you could ever want a quirk to do in battle. it grabs stuff. it Bloops. what more do you want. you’re all just jealous because you wish that you could Bloop too. I know I am. I wish I had a Bloop. anyway so yeah, Blackwhip is the upgrade to Deku’s fighting style that we desperately needed after 200+ chapters of Delaware Smashes and Broken Bones. all his fights are cooler now. he can save more people! he can fight without instantly dying! plus you just gotta love powers that occasionally explode out of control if their user gets all emotional and pissed off about the fact that you insulted his boyfriend. so yeah. Blackwhip at number one! on this list of favorite quirks. not best quirks!! jesus christ. please don’t kill me I have a family.

 so that’s my list! all 3000 words of it. how does this keep happening.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha ranking #bnha top ten #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks

[welllpthisishappening]

On This Night and in This Light (3/3)

Emma Swan knows she’s pretty good at what she does.

Helping the magically afflicted and affected find jobs in this realm isn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, and, sure, there’s a lot of paperwork, but she figures she’s helping people and that’s the important thing. It’s structured. Calm, even.

Until. It’s always until.

Killian Jones shows up with his stupid smirk and his tendency to lean against the door frame in Emma’s office and his distinct lack of magic. Or knowledge of what they’re really doing at Mills Personnel. Everything kind of goes off the rails after that.

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Rating: Teen

Word Count: 6.5K of magic and eventual happily ever after

AN: There’s some magic here. Some kissing. Some curses. And happily ever after, of course. Thanks for reading along with this little distraction from the legitimate stress of the real world. You guys are all an absolute delight.  

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the top

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“Are you good?” Tilting her head up to meet Killian’s vaguely crinkled forehead and passably confused expression, Emma almost regrets the question she didn’t plan on asking. That’s the problem with him. And them, at least in the abstract sense. 

Words tumble out of her without much thought to their meaning or collective, if not slightly metaphorical, weight. Defenses she’s spent a lifetime cultivating feel as if they’ve crumbled at her feet, which is impressive since she’s laying down, but the metaphor still checks out and Emma keeps asking questions. 

Without being wholly afraid of the answers she’ll get. 

“Be more specific,” Killian murmurs, and her heart does something stupid. Skips a beat. Sparks her magic. Threatens to leave her glowing in the tangle of sheets she’s absolutely stolen in the middle of the night. 

“Just—I mean with everything.” Nosing at her cheek, Emma can practically hear Killian’s smile. “‘Fraid that’s not any more specific, my love. But if we’re going to speak in the abstract before coffee—” “—Oh, we should make coffee.” He kisses her cheek, that time. “Then I am exceptionally good.” “Pretty vast adverb.”

“Well, you asked a very broad question. But I stand by my answer, particularly when you’re not wearing any clothing. Why, am I giving off not-good vibes?” “Maybe lame ones if you keep using the word vibe in actual conversation. I just—I don’t know, wanted to make sure, I guess. Working for Mills isn’t exactly the height of luxury and it can be a weird place, and I...we never really looked at apartments for you, because we can do that if you want to, but—” Stumbling over the words, Emma wishes her hands were free. She’d like to wave them around. Use them as a distraction to whatever has settled on her face and in the pit of her stomach, and this wasn’t really the plan. Granted, the plan occurred while she was overly exhausted and reeling a bit from rather large emotional realizations, but telling him the truth about absolutely everything is suddenly a bit more daunting in the light of day. 

And they haven’t even had coffee yet. 

Killian’s hand moves. Faster than Emma’s entirely ready for, his fingers brush a strand of wayward hair away from her eyes and then he’s kissing the bridge of her nose and pulling her against his chest and—

“This was not my plan. In some great expectation for my life, I’m not sure I could have ever imagined this is what it’d be like. But,” Killian adds, as soon as Emma’s magic shifts into something far closer to dread, “if all of this ended with your freakishly cold feet waking me up every morning, then I can’t be very upset about it.”

Swooning pre-coffee can’t be advisable. Emma’s heart doesn’t care. It flips and flops and does that possible explosion thing again, and she’s a little concerned the force of her smile will have adverse effects on the paint in her bedroom. 

“You don’t think Mills is weird?” “Do you?” Emma shakes her head. “Nah, no questions for questions. This is—” “—An inquiry?” Her shoulders slump. Under the blankets, and she’s really got a shit ton of blankets. “I don’t know, Swan. Mills is...a place, a job. One where you work, and that’s mostly why I’m interested in continuing to work there. Should I not be thinking that?” The last few words come with a bit of understandable concern and maybe a hint of frustration, and she should have said something earlier. 

It’s very frustrating to realize how much smarter the part-time cricket is than Emma.

She hopes he’s enjoying his job, too. 

“My feet aren’t really that cold.”

Killian scoffs. “I promise, they are like little ice cubes attached to your legs.” “Lucky you’re here to provide external heat, then.” 

Burrowing her face closer to the crook of his neck, Emma gives herself a moment to relish in that warmth, like he’s some sort of personal sun or a battery or another bit of science she doesn’t understand and David always likes to say that science is just explained magic. Emma wonders if it works the other way, too. 

Magic is something that simply hasn’t been explained yet. No rational reasoning, or anything except the kind of gut feeling that can change everything. 

“I am,” Killian says, and it probably isn’t meant to sound like a promise. “Are you good?” Dots of light appear behind Emma’s eyelids every time she blinks, trying to come up with an answer that won’t send him running and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he runs. Energy prickles at the tips of her fingers, curling around either one of her wrists and lingering in the slight bend of her left elbow because at some point her left palm has flattened itself against Killian’s stomach. “Mills can be kind of weird,” Emma mutters, trying to pick her words more carefully now. “And that’s...there’s a reason for that, and a reason I started working there and—” A phone starts vibrating. 

Loudly enough that it also immediately falls from the nightstand it was charging on, and keeps buzzing around on the floor. Killian sighs. 

“Hold that thought.”

Emma wishes she could. But her hands are already back underneath the blankets, and she’s all too aware of how bright they’ve gone in the last few seconds and the state of Killian’s shoulders make it obvious he’s not all that pleased with whatever he’s being told. “Yeah, yeah, I can—I mean, it’s like twenty blocks the wrong way, but—God, yes, Scarlet. I can come back for a few minutes.”

He doesn’t bother to plug the phone back in, and for like a solid half second Emma gets distracted by the lack of clothes before her eyes fly up and Killian’s sighing again and the weight in the pit of her stomach grows. 

“Coffee later?” Emma blinks. “Sure. Is everything ok?” “No idea, just that Scarlet said he had to talk to me and it couldn’t wait and—” Killian shrugs, fingers finding the back of his neck. “I probably won’t be that late, but if Regina asks—” “—I’ll tell her.” Something tugs at the back of her mind, a warning Emma can’t place, but she can sense a lie with almost startling accuracy and she knows Killian isn’t lying to her. She just can’t figure out why Will would lie to him. 

Halloween’s not her favorite day. 

People assume all magical and mythical creatures thrive on this one day of the year, but more often than not Emma finds that it’s just another busy day when those same magical and mythical creatures come out of the metaphorical woodwork in droves to get jobs. And sure, some of the rumors are true. There are certain times when the fabric between realms can be a bit more flimsy than usual. Both midnights, for example. Eleven-eleven’s another big one. So, teenage girls had that one right, at least. 

And yeah, ok, Halloween also means Regina bakes half a dozen apple pies for the whole office, but when the whole office is already overrun by inquiring applicants, Emma can’t find it in herself to be very excited for a dessert she only kind of likes. 

She’d never admit that to Regina. 

Self-preservation instincts, and all that. 

Plus, days like this are always cold. Fraught with that certain nip in the air, and leaves that crunch under Emma’s boots. Only to also get stuck to the bottom of Emma’s boots, and she has to twist her wrist to get rid of her leaf-based trail on her way to her paperwork-covered desk. 

The same one David’s leaning against. 

“You tell him yet?”

She missed one leaf. Figures. Emma never even went trick-or-treating as a kid. Halloween’s a sham. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” “Sure you don’t. It’s dumb that you haven’t yet.” “Voice your opinion a little louder, please.” “Nothing is going to happen,” David says, but Emma barely hears over the sound of sudden and complete disagreement that scratches its way from the depths of her soul. Maybe Halloween makes her a little maudlin, actually. She can’t believe she didn’t get to tell him. “It hasn’t yet.” “Why are you jinxing things like that?” “There is no such thing as jinx, and c’mon, if you guys can get through today with a hundred magically unemployed people, then sky’s the limit.” “Not even clever.” David shakes his head. “You’re impressed and swayed, I know it. Plus it’s not like you’re a bad witch or anything.” “I’m sorry, a bad witch?” “Yeah, you know. None of your intentions, even when lying to the guy you’re stupid into—” “—Opinions keep coming fast and furious, don’t they?” “Because he’s right,” Ruby calls, twisting around desks to involve herself in a conversation Emma doesn’t want to participate in anymore. “You really didn’t tell him yet? That’s nuts. And you’re a good person, Em. With a very good looking face. Who wouldn’t want to make out with that? Ad nauseum.” “I’m going to be honest, using a word that sounds like nauseous isn’t helping your case much,” Emma says. “And I’m going to tell him. I am, just—things got crazy this morning.” Ruby howls. With laughter. Drawing more than a few curious stares, and rather pointed glare from Regina’s direction. David pales noticeably. “Did they?” Ruby presses. “How crazy are we talking and was it also vaguely acrobatic, because I feel like Jones could move if he had to, but that’s strictly theorizing on my part, so—” Sentences without end are quickly becoming Emma’s least favorite thing. Only slightly edging out ringing phones. The one on her desk lights up, which doesn’t happen very often, but she can’t imagine the light is supposed to be green. 

David’s talking. She’s dimly aware of it — the soft hum that sounds more like Charlie Brown’s teacher than any of the human characteristics Emma is certain they both have, and that’s another quasi-Halloween reference. Rocks appear to have landed rather forcefully in her stomach, and that’s what she gets for optimism. 

“Swan,” Killian breathes, as soon as she pulls the phone to her ear. “Swan, Emma listen to me, you can’t—” Seriously, the lack of sentence structure is becoming intolerable. Killian grunts, the sound turning into a gasp almost immediately and a few shouted no, no, no leave them alone and Emma doesn’t remember standing. 

Only that she’s knocked her chair over in the process. 

“Is this Ms. Swan?” a new voice Emma almost recognizes asks. “Because it seems I’ve got something of yours, while you have something I’m particularly interested in. Let’s make a little exchange, shall we?”

It’s disappointing that her mouth goes dry. Emma assumes that’s because she’s all but panting, bent awkwardly over her desk while her eyes scan the room for something or someone and—it clicks. The voice. 

“Zelena. This is Zelena, isn't it?” Both David and Ruby make matching noises of disbelief, but the buzzing is back and Regina is moving and the line’s gone dead anyway. “She’s not supposed to be here,” Regina says with enough calm that it grates on every single one of Emma’s already-fraying nerves, “magical control sent her back to Oz.” Emma can’t cope with this. Any of it. All she wanted was to drink coffee with her decidedly human and very normal, if not ridiculously attractive boyfriend and they’ve never actually used relationship qualifiers. 

That’s disappointing. 

“Right, right, yeah, ok, of course” Emma mumbles, and she doesn’t bother to fix her chair. “Happy fucking Halloween, I guess.”

It takes her all of five minutes and one person dressed in costume to realize that running is absolutely and completely pointless. 

Emma’s a goddamn witch.

And it’s raining. 

Drops slide down her temples, drip down the back of her neck and work under her jacket because she never even got the chance to take her jacket off. Which is something of an exceptionally small miracle now, but she’s already cold and she’s always so fucking cold and—

He called her Emma. 

He called her—

“My love,” she whispers, entirely to herself and that part isn’t really true. Shadows hover just outside the edge of her vision, what Emma knows are her friends waiting for instructions or a plan, and she’s got to come up with a plan and she doesn’t know where Belle and Will live. 

She doesn’t have to. 

Reaching her hand back, Emma’s fingers lace through Regina’s, and her soft instruction of “all instinctual,” doesn’t get lost in the hum of the city or the bustle of a holiday that requires masks and chocolate-based gluttony. It takes root. In Emma’s mind, and those same pieces of her soul, finds the tiny bits of space between her stomach rocks and spreads out from there. 

Warming her from the inside out. 

She closes her eyes. 

“What the fucking fuck?” Will shouts, Emma’s feet slamming into hardwood floor that was probably highlighted in this apartment listing. Eyes bugging, he’s plastered to the wall opposite her, and Emma’s pleasantly surprised to find he’s not gagged, but she also kind of figures it’s because Belle is and there’s something inherently villainous about allowing the love interest to make noise while their partner is being tortured. 

By a woman wearing a pointed witch’s hat. “Kind of cliché, isn’t it?” Ruby muses, and Emma’s not surprised they’ve started their rescue mission with sarcasm. She also can’t respond. Her eyes are too busy trying to take in the scene. 

Stacks of books litter the floor, half the living room furniture on its side as if it’s been knocked over in a fit of inevitably-magical rage, and Belle doesn’t look as scared as annoyed that she’s been bound in one of the few upright chairs. Emma’s heart stutters. Catching her breath is impossible, head on a swivel as she tries to find—

“Killian,” she exhales, and he’s not gagged either. No visible restraints keep him a few feet away from Will, but Emma can feel the magic rippling off him and it smells strongly of bitter lemons. Or expired key lime pie. 

Neither of those things are inherently Halloween, or all that magical. But then Zelena’s turning slowly and the green splotches on her face ensure any attempts at passably funny metaphors or desperate attempts to maintain her sense of reality disappear. 

“Huh,” David says, “that’s new, actually. We ever see anyone change color before?”

Regina clicks her tongue. “She’s not changing color. She’s giving in.” “To what, exactly?” “Jealousy. Isn’t that right, Zelena? Been the crux of the problem forever, hasn’t it?”

Emma’s head is spinning. She’s not moving. “Wait, wait, what the fuck is going on?” One side of Killian’s mouth tugs up, amusement in his gaze and that can’t possibly be right. “You are stuck to the wall, idiot!’ “Oh, Swan, you do know how to flatter a man.” “What is happening?” He can’t shrug, but Emma knows he tries and that should not be as charming as it is. Mary Margaret squeezes her hand. The one that’s almost neon. “Turns out Scarlet didn’t actually want to talk to me this morning. We definitely could have had coffee.” “Is that a euphemism for—” Ruby starts, only to snap her jaw closed when Regina gapes at her. Emma’s starting to lose feeling in her fingers. 

And she sees the exact moment any sense of teasing and entirely false bravado leaves Killian. Lips going thin, his shoulders still don’t move, but Emma swears his fear reverberates through her and that’s not the emotion she was interested in sharing that morning. “You’ve got to get out of here, love. Now, it’s—” Zelena’s hand moves so quickly, it’s not much more than a passably-green blur. Nothing else comes out of Killian’s mouth. His jaw moves, working against a shield none of them can see, and Emma’s stomach is somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. 

Even with all those rocks. 

“How did you get back here?” Regina asks, stepping towards the front of their ragtag group. Fire bursts from her hands, flames that flicker up her forearms and draw another grunt out of Will. Whether it’s surprise or just the generic sound of being impressed, Emma’s not sure. 

Bits of green cling to the end of Zelena’s mouth when she smiles. “Shall I start at the beginning, then?” “God yes, please,” Emma sighs. 

Zelena doesn’t take her hat off. Really, she’s almost making it work for her. As far as costumes go, this one’s kind of basic, but there’s no cape or a broomstick and Emma’s never met a witch who was interested in flying a broom anywhere. 

“Wanted to stay conspicuous, you understand,” Zelena says, “Draw too much attention to myself and—ah, well, that’s not what’s important now.” “What?” “Why you, Emma Swan. Obviously.” “This isn’t the beginning,” David mumbles, and both Emma and Regina shift before Zelena can so much as lift her chin. One of the windows on a different wall flies open, half a dozen pigeons descending on the living room and nipping at the ends of Zelena’s hair. They pull on the sides of her dress and peck at the green spots that are growing on her cheeks. 

Whistling, Mary Margaret jerks her head and the pigeons fly away, looking a little like an avian synchronized swimming team. “Leave him alone.”

“Shit,” Ruby says, “that was impressive and aggressive. Ignore the rhyme.”

Emma tilts her head. “Slant rhyme, right? Can’t rhyme matching sounds.” Someone makes a noise — it comes from the general direction of Killian and Will, but it can’t be Killian and Emma wants it to be him anyway. Zelena doesn’t look very impressed with any of them. That’s fair, it’s probably frustrating to have your monologue interrupted so often. 

“If you don’t mind,” she sneers, Emma waving her free hand like she’s capable of giving the bad guy permission to keep talking. “It had been quite some time since I’d been in this realm, and plenty of things had changed. More magic, a certain kind of power that hung in the air. Energy that could change the course of everything, strong enough that it could probably rewrite time itself if it wanted to. And I want it to.” “To what?” “Were you not listening? Rewrite time.”

Breathing out of her mouth is not attractive. It’s loud and makes Emma’s tongue feel larger than it actually is, especially when she has to keep using it to lick her lips. “That’s—that’s insane. You’re insane. You didn’t just want to get a normal job? I mean...you were at Mills. I saw you.” “Power of the Universe at my fingertips and you think I’d be satisfied with a normal job? No wonder you have no idea what you are. Which,” Zelena glances meaningfully at Killian, “means you, Emma Swan, are the reason I’m here.” “Speak English!” Zelena huffs. “I am. What I felt when I returned to this realm? It was you, my dear. Your power, your magic, your ability. And, yes, I could have given into the hum-drum existence of this place and the structure of Mills Personnel, but where exactly is the fun in that?”

Emma hopes she’s not expected to answer. She doesn’t have one. It’s entirely possible she’s going to snap several of Mary Margaret’s fingers in half. 

“Anyway,” Zelena continues, “locating that power wasn’t easy, but Regina Mills’ ability to make things happen is legendary. Finding a person’s niche, that’s her greatest talent. And so I did come to Mills, looking for a position that would help me get the rest of the requirements.”

Ruby keeps shaking her head. Emma can’t seem to move. Or breathe. Her eyes keep darting back towards Killian, trying to make sure he’s breathing or reacting in a way that doesn’t threaten to make her cry. Nothing. 

He’s plastered to a wall with magic, of course not. 

“You see, a time spell is one of the more complex out there. Need all sorts of things in addition to the kind of magic that can fuel it. Which is what I wanted when I got to Mills. Hoped I could get placed in a hospital or something of the sort.”

On the increasingly small scale of things that surprise Emma, that somehow makes the cut. “You need, like, an IV drip or something?” “A baby,” Zelena replies easily, and Belle whimpers against the gag. “Pure of spirit, you understand. Other things too. Courage, wisdom, maybe a heart if I could get lucky—” “—An actual heart?” Will balks. “Spend a lot of time in Wonderland, did ya?” “I mean, she could probably get the heart in the hospital too if she wasn’t picky about her choices,” Ruby reasons, and this whole thing is absurd. Maybe that’s the theme for Halloween as a whole, though. 

More of Zelena’s face is green. 

“I had hoped I’d get someone competent who could help me. Or even the source of the power. Naturally,” she jerks her head in Killian’s direction, “I ended up with this sot. Who suggested working at a clinic or agreeing to something called an orderly position. Well, I knew he wouldn’t help me, but I did get something out of it. I knew you were there, Emma. And—” Zelena’s eyes rove towards Belle, and the hands collapsed over the front of her stomach. Realization crashes over Emma in waves, the rocks disappearing only to be replaced with a bone-deep chill that douses any bit of light in her. “So I do have a few options for you all now.” “What are you trying to fix?” “Hmm?” “Fix,” Emma repeats, “or change, I guess. I mean—that’s not how life works.” Zelena hums in what can only be passing interest and something almost like an agreement. “Seems unnecessary to tell you my whole plan, but when it works it won’t make much of a difference. I want to get rid of the girl. That nasty little thing that fell in Oz and ruined everything. Robbed me of my chance to prove myself, claimed there had to be good witches and bad witches and you’re absolutely right, Ms. Swan. That’s not how life works. Nothing is quite so cut and dry as all that.”

Words hang off the tip of her disgustingly dry tongue. Want to be said and proclaimed, and for all the mistakes Emma has made — good and bad, right and wrong, trusting and the opposite, she’s happy to find she’s not particularly interested in changing them. 

Not if she ends up here. 

Well, maybe not here—with her boyfriend, they’ll get to that eventually, magically silenced and Belle doing her best to glare daggers at the half-green witch who commandeered her living room, and Ruby’s teeth are definitely getting longer. But maybe here-adjacent. With people who care about her, who followed her without question or thought and the guy who is still somehow staring at Emma like he’s got every intention of keeping her feet warm. 

Ad nauseum. 

“I’m not really interested in anything you need.”

Disappointment flashes across Zelena’s face, only to immediately morph into something much closer to fury. “Hero types, always so sanctimonious. That’s why I said several options. It’s one now, but—” Flicking her wrist, Killian slides down the wall in what Emma knows isn’t actually slow motion. Still, the amount of time it takes for his knees to crash to the ground seems to last forever and Zelena doesn’t try to stop Emma from rushing forward. 

Eventually, she’ll realize why. 

“Regina discovered what I was trying to do,” Zelena explains, “my fault. Kept coming back to Mills, demanding better placement and as much as it pains me to admit she’s smart...well, she sent me back to Oz.” “So how are you here?” Mary Margaret demands.

Emma doesn’t need that answer, either. Halloween is a bullshit, overrated holiday. Pulling Killian close to her, he’s far too limp and impossibly silent, and Emma barely spends a moment thinking about either of those things before she’s kissing anywhere she can reach, mumbling apologies and half-explanations into his skin and—

“Ah, I’d be careful if I were you,” Zelena says, a soft lilt to her voice that rattles down Emma’s spine. “See, your option is to give me your magic, Ms. Swan. If you won’t do it willingly, I’ll take it by force.” “I don’t—” 

Movement catches Emma’s attention, the soft flutter of fingers across her back and she has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. At first. All it takes is a few seconds, and that’s probably another sign. She hopes so. Tracing letters on her jacket, Killian’s eyes flutter shut like he’s exhausted and determined not to sleep and— “No,” Emma exhales, but Zelena’s smile looks victorious. It’s too late. They’re too late. And there’s nothing they can do to change that. 

Slumping against her, Killian’s eyes don’t open again. His breathing evens out, and Emma supposes that’s something of a very twisted victory because he isn’t dead, but he’s even more obviously sleeping and sleeping curses are notoriously hard to break.

“Especially when they so often require a kiss,” Zelena grins. “True Love, and all that. So let me ask, Ms. Swan. Do you think what you and the plebe have is True Love and, more importantly, will you be willing to sacrifice your magic for it? Because the only way he’s waking up is with a kiss and the next time you kiss him, you’ll lose your magic.”

To suggest that it kind of all goes to shit after that is something of an understatement. 

Light pours out of Emma, unsteady legs under her even as she juts her chin out. To her credit Zelena doesn’t back down. She stands there and she turns a bit more green, and magic is so goddamn weird. Emma’s also never been in a magic fight before. 

Spending so long hiding that part of her — certain it was going to be the reason everyone left, the opportunity never really presented itself. Fighting for the sanctity of time itself and Killian’s consciousness seems as good a reason as any to flip the script, so to speak. 

Heat races through Emma, wind swirling at her ankles as frames clatter to the ground. Shards of glass fly on the manufactured breeze, Mary Margaret darting towards Belle and David sprinting towards Will, and it’s something of a confidence boost when they’re both able to pull them away from the battle. 

Although Emma can’t really believe she thought the word battle, even in her head. 

“Not exactly the magical dominance you were bragging about, huh?” Emma quips, twirling a finger in the air. Bands of light circle Zelena’s calves, twist up her legs and turn her answering laugh into a gasp that also does dangerous things to Emma’s ego. 

“I never—” Zelena grunts, twisting against bonds that don’t even flicker. “—You were the powerful one, I thought I made that blatantly obvious.” “I mean,” David shrugs. 

Ruby nods. “She did kind of, Em. That’s true.” “Whose side are you on?” Emma snaps, but the retreat back to absurd is almost comforting in a familiar, banter-filled sort of way. 

“Please,” Regina sighs. Her hands are on fire. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I know you claimed you didn’t have to tell Killian the truth before.” “Yeah, well, cat’s pretty much out of the bag on that front, don’t you think?” “Flew out on pigeon’s wings, I think.”

Laughter has no place in a moment when Zelena’s entire face has turned green, and her own fireballs are threatening at her palms, but Emma can’t help herself and maybe the dumbest thing she’s ever done was suggest Killian shouldn’t have worked at Mills. Or that she couldn’t be head over heels in love with him. 

That helps, honestly. 

“You’re not getting my magic,” Emma announces, all too sure she sounds as ridiculous as she feels. Heroic soliloquies are also overrated, it seems. “And you’re not getting Killian or—God, were we actually talking about Dorothy that whole time?” Zelena snarls. That must be the response. 

“Well, you’re not getting her either. Sneaking back here on Halloween was dumb. Trying any of this was ridiculous and threatening Killian was the worst of all your ideas. Because—” Emma takes a step forward. Nothing shakes. If anything her knees almost lock out, the hair falling over her shoulders noticeably brighter than usual and Zelena recoils. Seriously, her confidence is through the roof. “Magical job placement might be boring, and it might have a shit ton of paperwork, but it’s also a chance to help people and that’s...that’s the point, isn’t it? Finding that sense of belonging? Giving a person a chance. Being able to—” “—Fall in love,” Mary Margaret cries, scrunching her nose when Regina and Ruby shush her. “I mean…that’s what it is, isn’t it? Love’s not a weapon. It makes Emma glow.” And that makes Emma curse. “Maybe we phrase it differently?”

“Maybe we worry about language once we actually defeat the witch, huh?” Regina challenges, and that seems like a legitimate plan. 

Balls of fire fly through the air. Ricochet off Emma’s lights, and every window flies open as Mary Margaret calls upon not only pigeons but what look like several sparrows and a few nightingales if the sounds they’re making is any indication. Leaves swirl around the room, partially from the actual wind and also from whatever Emma is apparently capable of. 

A lot more than she thought, honestly. 

Warmth rises in her spine, sets her shoulders in a straight and determined line and she gives Will an appreciative smile when he pulls Killian out of the fray. Only to immediately jump back in, ducking and twisting and there’s a lot more cardio involved than she thought, but then a flash of magic nearly singes her ear and Emma’s thankful for her own agility.

She moves. Refuses to back down, ignoring the growing ache in her muscles and the weird popping thing her hip is doing. And Zelena starts to cower. In an especially villain-type of way.

Backing into the nearest wall, she stumbles over her feet as light tightens around her. It pins her arms to her side, curls around her ankles and guarantees she can’t run away when Emma stalks forward. 

With a smile on her face. 

Oz authorities appear at eleven-eleven, which seems to suggest it is somehow still morning and Emma cannot rationalize that at all. 

They thank Emma for containing the fugitive, nod towards Regina and well—that’s that. Leaving the rest of them in a slightly singed apartment with pillows that somehow haven’t burst, and what feels like a distinct lack of oxygen. 

“So,” Will drawls, “what do we do now?” He doesn’t have to look at Killian. The still-sleeping form is the far-more-attractive-than-an-elephant elephant in the room, draped across a couch that David had to lift on his own. One of his feet is hanging over the side. “True Love’s Kiss isn’t a real thing,” Emma whispers, but the words taste like ash on her tongue and Regina makes a very obnoxious noise. 

“Dumb, dumb, dumb.” “Do you think I’ll lose my magic?” “Do you actually care?” Shaking her head, Emma doesn’t bother saying the words. Not when she knows they’re so obviously painted on her face and sudden realization is almost as annoying as not ending sentences. She knows what he was tracing on her back. 

Maybe she is the idiot, actually. 

And for a moment, Emma’s mind falters. Remembers that other moment, standing frozen as a different set of lights threatened to blind her and metal snapped around her wrists and she’d been so certain then. Never again. Nothing else would get through the defenses. No one else would know. No more mistakes. 

This isn’t a mistake. 

Careful to avoid the glass on the floor, Emma tiptoes forward and crouches next to Killian. She brushes her fingers over that scar on his cheek, the ends of lips that are somehow still tilted up into half a smirk and—

“God, just do it already,” Belle shouts. 

That’s that, again. 

Kissing at this angle isn’t particularly easy, and Emma’s knees aren’t particularly pleased with the amount of pressure she’s putting on them, but it does allow her to basically drape herself across Killian and that also makes it easier to get her hand under the hem of his shirt. And nothing else really happens. 

No sharp inhale. No tilt of his head. Absolutely no sign of his tongue, which Emma has come to find herself almost obsessed with in the last few months. She doesn’t care. Doesn’t allow herself to stop, not when there’s a flicker of hope and all that want simmering between her ribs, mixing with her magic and how ridiculously in love she is and it’s annoying that she’s the one who gasps. 

As soon as arms circle her waist. 

Emma can’t really tumble when she’s above him, but the edge of the couch digs into her thighs and Killian’s doing an admirable job of trying to get her parallel to the rest of his body. Her fingers find his hair when he arches up, his own hand roving the expanse of her back before his arm curls tightly around her like he’s trying to make sure she’s still there. Leaning into her palm against his chin, Killian’s lips drag across the back of Emma’s wrist, sparking another round of magic and even more glowing. “Oh shit,” Emma mumbles, not able to pull herself away from Killian. Because of his arm. And...other reasons. 

“Was that a response to me, or—” “—No, no, I just—well, there’s still magic. I’ve still got magic. And, uh, I’m a witch.” He laughs. Throws his head back and lets his body shake under her, which really isn’t helping Emma’s state of mind at all, but she’s admittedly preoccupied with the overall volume of the laugh and how wide his smile is. “Swan, Emma love, did you honestly think I didn’t know?”

She—

Has absolutely no idea what to do with that. 

Ruby might fall over. Regina’s eyes bug, Mary Margaret using David to stay upright, Belle covers her mouth with her hand, Will cackling loud enough for the both of them. 

“Did you,” Emma starts, but Belle and Will shake their heads and Killian’s tongue click is awfully put-upon for a guy who was just cursed. 

He taps on her jaw until she’s able to look at him. And his stupid blue eyes. “I could feel it, love. Also you have a tendency to...glow. Which I'm assuming is a compliment, for me. Or us. There's an us, right?" She nods. Can't do much else. "And you’re not very subtle. Extra cinnamon in the cabinets, moving the remote so I don’t have to look for it. Working at a job placement agency that helps the magically afflicted. Plus there was paperwork. Was Freddie really a gold statue at one point?” “Yeah, but they un-statue’ed him with water from Lake Nostos. Not True Love’s Kiss.” “So we won, then?” “Competitive weirdo.” “Absolutely,” Killian nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I figured you’d get around to it at some point and then you were talking today and—” “—We’re not such shitty friends that we’d demand Killian show up back here before nine,” Will reasons. “Plus, it’s been kind of nice to have a free couch.”

Killian gags. “Did I say congratulations yet?” “We were busy.” “Wait, wait,” Emma sputters, and she’s going to go into cardiac arrest. Or magic overload. “So this whole time. You knew.” “Well, not the whole time,” Killian objects. “Most of it though, yeah.” “But you’re still here.” “Where else did you expect me to go? Aside from your apartment now that we’ve defeated the wicked witch? I’m assuming we defeated the wicked witch.” Emma nods. “Well, then I’ll apologize for drawing you into that, too. She was half the reason I started to suspect anything, honestly. Told Regina about her and the last thing I expected when I got here was to see her, or to have her demand I get you here. I tried to avoid that.” More nodding. More aching muscles and poorly performing hearts, and Emma wouldn’t mind if Killian traced several other sentiments into a variety of different areas, but they’ve got an audience and a pregnant lady and they never did get coffee. So, it makes sense to ignore that for a second. Or several. 

“I love you,” she says instead. Shouts, really. “More than I realized I could and I—” Any other words get lost in the feel of Killian’s mouth on hers and the ability of his tongue to incite butterflies in her stomach, and she hardly hears him say I love you back. It doesn’t matter. She hears it on loop for the rest of the day, once they’re ushered unceremoniously out of Belle and Will’s apartment. Neither of them think much about getting coffee. 

And she’s just on the cusp of sleep, eyelashes fluttering and blankets halfway to stolen when Emma hears something else. Pressed into that one spot below her ear. 

“I’ve got no intention of leaving,” Killian whispers, “not because of the magic or the power that comes with it, only because I love you. A ridiculous amount, honestly.”

Sleep seems kind of pointless after that. 

He decides to leave Mills, eventually. 

“I don’t have magic,” Killian rationalizes, and Emma supposes that makes sense. “But I will need some help finding a job.”

Sliding a file with his name written in swirling script across her desk, he’s got the gall to smirk at her and Emma resists the urge to magic him into her chair. “Luckily I do have other skills, including a job offer—” “—If you’ve got a job offer, you don’t really need my help.” “Yeah, but you’re very pretty and I hear you’re real good at what you do.” “Which is?” “Moving in with me,” Killian says, which isn’t the last thing she expects but it still manages to catch her off guard. Lights erupt at the end of several strands of hair. “The reaction I was going for, absolutely.” “No, no, that’s—that’s dumb.” “Is it?” “I was going to ask you to move in with me. First.” “Competitive weirdo.” “I have an apartment,” Emma argues. “With laundry on site.” “Ah, yeah, that is a marker in the pro column. Plus, you’ll be there right?” “In my apartment? Yeah, probably,”

Pushing back on the chair he’d never really been sitting in, Killian leans across Emma’s desk. To kiss her. Hard. Magic flares in the air around them, causing bulbs to flicker and more than a few cries of get a room . “What I’m trying to do,” Killian mumbles. “If you’re asking me to move in, Swan, I’m going to accept.” “Make it sound less like a warning next time.”

He chuckles against her mouth, either ignoring the desk that must be pressing into his stomach or not bothered by it at all, and Emma tries not to throw herself at him too quickly when he brings a whole box of recently-bought blankets with him.

“So you don’t get cold, love.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #on this night and in this light #MAGIC BATTLES #MORE KISSING #MAGIC BATTLES WHILE FLIRTING

[aforrestofstuff]

“Is this the ask box? Dude I have no idea where to submit crap but here it goes: The S Class have a group chat, what’s it called and do they chat shit about Amai Mask in it? Does anyone send memes? What do they talk about? I feel as if you’re the best person to ask crap like this too”

You sent me a submission. But that’s ok, tumblr is hard. It took me like 4 months to figure out how to turn anon on so you’re already a step ahead of me lol.

How the S-Class heroes text and what they would do in a group chat:

So, the name of the group chat would probably just be “S-Class”. Nobody really wastes their time trying to change it because Child Emperor would just change it back.

Yes, they make snide remarks about Amai all the time. Metal Bat especially.

I’m gonna give a rundown on what each S-Class hero does in the group chat and then give you their texting style when talking to other people (with a screenshot):

Tornado of Terror:

Group chat: Only talks shit in the group chat. Pulls no punches. She’s salty 24/7 and only agreed to be a member of the chat just so she can berate the other S-Class heroes in the event that they fuck up even a little bit.

Texting style: Her texting style is a lot. Just... a lot of words in caps. If you don’t respond to her within five minutes, she’ll spam the living hell out of your phone. She’s so angry. Someone help her.

Silverfang:

Group chat: Nonexistent. He reads all of the messages but never participates in conversation. He rarely ever uses his phone anyway. The Messages app is the only app on his home screen.

Texting style: A... lot... of.... dots..... Texts like an old man on Facebook. He doesn’t know how to implement contact names so he just memorizes everyone’s number.

Atomic Samurai:

Group chat: Also nonexistent. He has that shithead boomer attitude that all new technology is evil and useless, so he doesn’t even bother reading the messages in the chat either.

Texting style: he rarely uses his phone. He just has one because Iaian’s cell carrier gave him a freebie. Atomic Samurai texts surprisingly well, he’s just super salty about it. His only contacts are his three disciples, and he would’ve had to resort to remembering their numbers like Silverfang had they not put their names in themselves.

Child Emperor:

Group chat: serves as moderator. He basically does anything the Hero Association execs doesn’t wanna do, so he’s in charge of keeping the group chat friendly (which is almost impossible).

Texting style: perfect grammar. Very professional. All of his contacts are labeled specifically and he uses a different phone each week because he’s paranoid of any information leaks.

Metal Knight:

Group chat: He would be a moderator like Child Emperor but then the Hero Association grew a brain cell and said fuck that. Because of this, he’s requested to be left out of it. He wouldn’t give enough of a fuck to read the messages nor engage in any discussion anyway.

Texting style: Very demanding. Short texts. Uses a different phone each week like Child Emperor because lord knows he’s got a lot of shit to hide.

King:

Group chat: he’s not even in the group chat and he thinks it’s because nobody’s noticed, but the truth is that everyone knows it and they’re either too intimidated or don’t give enough of a shit to ask. He gets nervous every time someone mentions it in a meeting because he would rather swallow a microwave than have to talk to his coworkers any more than he already has.

Texting style: pretty normal. Lenient on grammar, uses acronyms, texts at normal intervals. His phone is full of pics of anime catpeople and he gets Discord notifications a metric-fuckton times a day from the many, many gaming servers he’s part of (nobody knows it’s him though).

Zombieman:

Group chat: lurks. He reads only the important messages and responds with one-worded texts. Usually just things to let everyone know he understands what’s going on like “got it” or, “affirmative”.

Texting style: he knows how to use his phone, but in a middle-aged suburban dad sort of way. He only ever uses it to read the news, take pictures of crime scenes or important documents, use the notepad, and text a select few people. He gets new phones often—not quite as often as Child Emperor or Metal Knight—because he’s also paranoid about it falling into the wrong hands. In addition to that, technology hates him. Siri never listens because his voice is fucky as all hell.

Drive Knight:

Group chat: He doesn’t even have a cellphone, nor is he in the group chat. He’s basically a walking computer so he’s got 0 use for a phone. And he’s not in the group chat because he specifically requested that he not be put in it on account of the fact that he doesn’t give enough of a shit about his coworkers’ internal affairs.

Texting style: Doesn’t text. Like I said, he doesn’t have a cellphone. If he wants to get a message across, he’ll communicate it over comms. Like a weirdo.

Pig God:

Group chat: Is surprisingly active? I think I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but the main three things he does all hours of the day are use the internet, eat, and do hero work (which also counts as eating). So, lo and behold, he’s got a lot of spare time to communicate with everyone over text. It’s easier for him to talk over text than it is in person, since he’s really shy. His real personality really shines through. Proud of him.

Texting style: Basically like any regular teen. Uses acronyms, sends the occasional meme, leaves people on read for hours at time because he can’t be bothered to pick up the phone, and has no care whatsoever for grammar.

Superalloy Darkshine:

Group chat: Super active. Engages in nearly every conversation and almost serves as a mediator whenever it comes to arguments. He’s really positive and doesn’t like conflict so he’ll do whatever he can to alleviate any tension between anyone in the chat in the event that it arises. If Child Emperor wasn’t moderator, it would be him. He also exchanges boomer-ass fitness memes with Tanktop Master. The two of them just kind of have their little side conversations while everyone else is talking about a completely different thing. They’re best bros.

Texting style: Like I said, he’s super positive. He’ll use emojis every other word and a LOT of exclamation points because he feels there’s not much else he can do to express his perpetual excitement about everything. He takes care of his phone relatively well considering his whole schtick is tanking damage. He might need to get it repaired every once and a while because he absolutely REFUSES to get a new one. He grows attached to objects really easily and losing something he’s had for so long would feel like losing a close friend.

Watchdog Man:

Group chat: not even in it. He can’t even text because no phone in the world can detect his fingers through the super thick pads of his suit. He doesn’t even have a phone for this reason. Why would he need one when he’s in the same place all hours of the day?

Texting style: like I said, he doesn’t even have a phone. If he did, he’d probably eat it. Not because he’s too dumb to know the difference, but because he feels that’s the only use it’ll serve to him.

Flashy Flash:

Group chat: Only reads the important messages and engages in conversation when it serves to humor him. He’s not super talkative, but when he is, he’s got a LOT to say. He usually just quarrels with Tatsumaki whenever she gets smart with someone. It’s a wonder she hasn’t killed him yet.

Texting style: Sort of formal. He texts exactly like how he talks. He goes the extra mile to use proper grammar and even thinks emojis/acronyms are frivolous. Pretty pretentious, but he gets whatever point he’s trying to communicate across quite well.

Genos:

Group chat: I can’t decide between him either being super involved in the chat or not giving a shit at all so I’m just gonna flip a coin here... Super involved! He’s got something to say on every topic and voices his opinion with no filter. Aside from that, he doesn’t really engage in conversation very much. He just sort of drops in every so often to give the take of the century and dips the fuck out.

Texting style: Basically like Flashy Flash’s style. He texts exactly like how he talks, uses near perfect grammar, and thinks emojis/acronyms are a waste of time. Occasionally, Saitama will convince him to “act like a teenager” and type “lol”, but it never sticks. You could say... he’s programmed that way. Hehe.

Metal Bat:

Group chat: Shit-talker in chief. He initiates all discourse on Amai Mask and nobody really complains since they’re all in the same Amai Mask hate club, practically. If anyone’s sending good memes, it’ll be him. He’s got no filter and voices his opinions with no fear, taking no prisoners and shit-talking everyone equally.

Texting style: Gen Z to the extreme. Uses emojis, acronyms, the whole shebang. He’s young enough to have grown up on technology so he knows how to use his phone well. The phone itself, however, is barely functioning. If it could talk it would be saying “kill me...” because Badd drops it, smashes it, and breaks it 24/7. The only thing he does to repair it is apply some scotch tape and call it a day. It looks like shit. He doesn’t want to get a new one until the one he has now is COMPLETELY broken.

Tanktop Master:

Group chat: Like I said, he and Superalloy Darkshine have their own side conversations while everyone else is on a completely different topic. They exchange boomer-ass memes about fitness and shit. Other than that, he doesn’t really participate outside of the occasional one-word text that lets everyone know he understands what’s being said.

Texting style: Dad. He texts like a dad. Not a smart dad either, like a tryhard dad that had just googled internet terminology and uses it in all the wrong ways. He doesn’t use emojis because there’s so many that he gets overwhelmed. He tries though, by god he tries.

Puri-Puri Prisoner:

Group chat: Basically a mediator like Superalloy. He doesn’t really like conflict and does his best to spread love and cheer but to no avail, since everyone else is a huge drag. He engages well in conversation and offers his input on plans. He’s a pretty active and well-rounded member.

Texting style: one problem, though. He’s not supposed to have a phone in prison. His texting style is very abbreviated and almost illegible because he has to get the message across as fast as possible before anyone notices he has a cellphone. The phone itself is old as hell and smells like ass. For obvious reasons.

#one punch man #opm #metal bat #zombieman #child emperor #tatsumaki #fubuki #saitama #iaian #silverfang #charanko #atomic samurai #metal knight #drive knight #pig god #superalloy darkshine #watchdog man #flashy flash #genos #tanktop master #puri puri prisoner #headcanon #opm headcanons #submission

[tripleaxeldiaz]

all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 2/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

The bell above the door to Armageddon dings as Eddie steps inside, met with the blast of air conditioning and loud music (he recognizes the band, it’s one Buck has played for him before. 10 Years Sturdy? Something like that.). He’s exhausted after a day of back-to-back-to-back deliveries, including two weddings, some kind of charity gala, and a funeral. He does arrangements for funerals often enough, but he still can’t get over the way his stomach turns every time he walks into a funeral home. The memories of being in one, after his last tour especially, mourning his brothers and sisters in arms never leave him alone. They coil around his brain, reminding him that they would be here if he had saved them, if he had been a better leader, a better soldier.

So he’s physically and emotionally exhausted, and all he wants to do is pick up Chris, go home, shower, and sleep for 48 hours. It’s only Wednesday, and he does have work in the morning, but the thought is still nice.

He heads towards the back room, waving at Chimney who gives him a salute back, not looking up from whatever he’s doing on his client’s calf. The guy hisses in pain, and Eddie snorts as Chim rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

As he enters the back office/lounge, he sees Chris and Buck hunched over the table against the side wall, heads leaning together, the surface covered in discarded sketches and crumpled drawings deemed too terrible to save. He sees them like this more often than not, whether in this room or The Greenhouse’s back room or his kitchen table, but it never fails to settle something in him. It’s been Chris and him against the world for so long, it’s nice to have another person in their corner, someone they can rely on. Not to mention, Chris has been Buck’s shadow pretty much from the word go, and Buck always seems genuinely happy to hang out with him. The day they met, Chris spent almost a full hour asking Buck about every tattoo he could see, Buck patiently explaining each one in as much detail as he could give an eight year old. When he offered to show him some of his paper drawings and give him some pointers on his own, Chris had looked at him like he couldn’t quite believe he was real, like he had just offered to draw him a new constellation in the night sky.

Like father, like son.

“He really loves that kid.” Eddie turns towards the soft voice behind him, sees Maddie with a small smile on her face. “I think he likes having someone to teach that doesn’t talk back as much as Chim and me.”

Eddie smiles as he looks back, sees Buck offer a hand for a high five before ruffling Chris’s hair affectionately. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure.”

“Dad! Come look, Buck taught me how to draw snakes!”

Eddie walks over to the table, peers down at pages of cartoon snakes in various positions. He can see the progression of Chris’s practicing on the pages, going from shaky and unsure to something more realistic as Buck guided him.

“You were halfway there dude, you just needed some help with the movement,” Buck says as Chris preens.

“These look great, buddy. Can you stick them in your backpack so we can get going?”

Chris gathers up his good drawings, pushing the rest of them into the trash can under the table. He picks up his crutches and makes his way to the other side of the room to his backpack and coat.

“Thanks again for watching him, I really thought we’d be done with deliveries by the time school was over,” Eddie says. Buck just shakes his head, a smile similar to Maddie’s on his face as he watches Chris.

“It’s never a problem, Chris is awesome. He offered to hold a girl’s hand that Maddie was working on because it was her first tattoo and she was scared. And then I got to draw with him! That’s definitely a win for me.” Buck looks back at him, and Eddie feels the warm glow of his smile try to sink into his chest. It would’ve, too, if he wasn’t still on edge from his visit to the funeral home. He can feel that his returning smile doesn’t meet his eyes, and Buck looks at him for a moment before setting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie tries his best not to melt at the touch, but feeling the heat through his shirt doesn’t make it easy. “Hey, you good?” Buck asks quietly. “He can keep hanging here for a while if you need some alone time.”

Buck doesn’t know everything. He knows Eddie did two tours, and Eddie had let him draw his own conclusions on how that may have affected him. Whatever Buck thought, he didn’t know the truth, didn’t know the poison sloshing around in his soul, the constant reminder of the light he left behind in Afghanistan and the blackness he brought back instead. And Eddie will do everything he can to keep Buck in the dark, to make sure he never sees those ugly parts of him that even Eddie can’t fully face.

But god does he make it hard. When he looks at him like this, earnest and open, like he can see right through Eddie, all he wants to do is break. Let the poison come spilling out because he knows Buck will help him clean it all up and get rid of it, maybe for good. But he’ll get burned in the process too, and Eddie refuses to let that happen.

So he just shakes his head, forces his smile to a normal size, pats Buck’s arm that’s still holding onto him. “I’m alright man, but thanks. We’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight Chris.”

“Bye Buck! Thank you!” Chris wraps his arms around Buck’s middle, while Buck bends in half to squeeze back. 

They leave with a wave, say their goodbyes to Chim and Maddie too as they walk out the door. Chris doesn’t stop talking about his afternoon with Buck until he’s tucked into bed. As Eddie goes to bed himself, he tries not to think about a warm body with blonde curls and legs for days taking up the spot next to him, wrapping him in his arms, keeping him safe from the monsters that wait for him in the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~

His brain doesn’t really care what he does or doesn’t want to think about, it seems. 

The dream starts as it often does: he’s in the desert, hiding from enemy fire behind the wreckage of his helicopter, surrounded by the corpses of comrades that he couldn’t save. The others, still alive, are looking at him, outraged and not fighting back, like they already know he’s led them to their deaths. Bullets ricochet off the metal, and one by one the bodies fall, blood spilling out of them, flowing towards him. He’s surrounded by noise and heat and death, and the blood keeps coming, soaking into his boots, staining his skin. He drops his weapon, knowing there’s no use in fighting back. He waits for the inevitable bursts of pain when the bullets finally get him, but after that, he knows it’ll be nothing but blissful, all encompassing silence.

Except this time, when he falls into the darkness that usually wakes him up, he’s not alone. He catches glimpses of sky blue eyes, a lopsided grin, a birthmark that looks like a kiss from the heavens. He sees skin covered in intricate patterns and designs, the ink coming to life as he reaches out to touch. He can’t quite reach it, but it doesn’t matter because he feels safe. Protected. This presence, this warmth that’s surrounding him, makes him feel centered in a way that he hasn’t since...he can’t remember when. And he can’t do anything but sink into it, wrap himself up and burrow into it like he knows he won’t allow himself the same luxury when the sun comes up. It feels like home, like salvation. Like the thing Eddie’s been needing to make him feel right again.

So he takes. He knows it’s just a dream, so he takes and he takes, and he doesn’t feel bad. 

When he wakes with a start, hands twisted in his sheets, he desperately tries to hold onto as much detail as he can, but it’s all slipping away as he becomes more and more conscious. Some things stay — the eyes, the smile. The overwhelming warmth. And there’s an ache, too. A longing, physical ache that still lingers in his chest even now that he’s awake.

He tries to breathe through it, but then he remembers whose eyes those are, and it pulls him under all over again.

“Shit,” he whispers into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

The ache is still there as he opens the shop the next day, dull but ever present. He’s pretty self aware, so the depth of his feelings for Buck isn’t news, but he really thought he’d have gotten over it by now. He thought Buck would have stopped in one day to get flowers for someone that wasn’t Eddie, and Eddie would have been crushed, but he’d have been able to start the process of moving on. 

But Buck hasn’t done that. He’s gone on dates, but no more than one or two, always claiming they “just weren’t right for each other.” And Eddie’s dumb heart fluttered every time he said that, and his feelings kept growing and growing, and now they’re physically hurting him and haunting his dreams.

He’s so, so screwed.

The bell above the door dings, and of course it’s Buck, the one time Eddie doesn’t actually want to talk to him. Eddie feels the ache grow, feels it pushing at his ribs, but there’s also that warmth and sense of safety from his dream. That feeling he always gets around Buck, no matter what. It’s hot and cold at the same time, and he can’t even begin to figure out how to process that.

“You know, if you keep glaring like that, you’re gonna scare off your customers. Your smile is a much nicer greeting in the morning.”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, not fighting said smile that spreads on his face. It’s almost scary how easily Buck can get him to relax. “Says the man with the leather jacket and a nose ring.”

“Hey, I have a very sunny disposition, even if the clothes don’t match. Plus nose rings are cool, not scary.”

“Whatever you say. Here for your flowers?”

Buck smiles brightly, and there goes Eddie’s heart again. “Yep. Whatever you’re feeling.”

Eddie reaches towards the cases of flowers and pauses, because the only thing he’s feeling is how much he wants to grab Buck by the collar and kiss him until they can’t breathe. How much he wants to wake up next to him, cook breakfast with him, make a life with him. How he’s the first person he’s even thought about showing his darkest parts to because he’s getting tired of carrying them all by himself, and he trusts Buck intrinsically to shine his light on them and start to make them better. Start to make Eddie better in the process.

He cannot, however, say any of that out loud. So he settles for the next best thing.

Aster, gardenia, and pink camellia. Trust, love and longing. It’s unbelievably on the nose, but as he hands the bouquet to Buck, he feels a little lighter. Not like he’s getting over it, but like the pressure of holding it all in has been released just enough that Eddie doesn’t feel like he’s drowning. When Buck waves goodbye, he smiles a little easier, because he did tell Buck, in his own way, and he didn’t have to subject him to any of his mess to do so. 

So maybe this is fine. Maybe he can handle these one-sided love declarations that only he understands. Maybe, maybe, he can make this work, until his heart decides it’s had its fill and starts to move on. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s definitely not working. 

Because rather than working it out and moving on like he thought he would, rather than feeling the relief he felt the first time, he just wants more. With every mallow, moonflower, and red tulip he hands over to Buck, he wants to let him know exactly what they mean, exactly how Eddie feels about him.

But anytime he even entertains the idea of coming clean, that little voice in his head reminds him that it doesn’t matter because he’s not enough. If he tells Buck how he feels, he’ll just laugh in his face because even he knows that Eddie wouldn’t be able to give him everything he wants. No matter how supportive he may seem, Buck will take one look at the shredded bits of Eddie that he keeps locked away and leave, because no amount of goodness and light will ever be able to put them back together in a way that resembles someone worthy of that goodness.

Eddie’s never been able to ignore that voice, so he listens and keeps his mouth shut and keeps hoping that one day, he’ll give Buck a bouquet and all of his pent up feelings will just disappear along with it.

A month on, and that day still hasn’t come. It’s cool this morning, so Buck’s leaning over the counter in a hoodie and black beanie, shivering slightly, and Eddie wants to wrap his arms around him and warm him up himself. Or better yet, take him up to his apartment, wrap him in his comforter, and never let him leave.

They talk like normal, and Eddie’s glad he can keep this part up, that their friendship hasn’t suffered any outward damages just because he can’t get his shit together. Hen joins them while Eddie is wrapping Buck’s flowers, and pauses briefly when she sees what Eddie picked out — orange lily and marigold, desire and pain. A strange mix, but it’s exactly what Eddie’s feeling.  He wants Buck so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Buck, thankfully, just smiles as Eddie hands the bouquet off. “These are perfect. Not quite as perfect as our friendly neighborhood florist, but they’re coming in at a close second.”

Eddie just shakes his head, blushing as always. Buck winks, waves to Hen, and steps out the door, letting in a hint of chill as he leaves.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Hen turns to Eddie, fixing him with a pointed look that almost makes him flinch.

“What?” he asks, straightening up the front counter just so he doesn’t have to look at her too long.

“I know what flowers mean too, you know, and I see the ones you keep giving to our favorite tattoo artist.”

Eddie breathes out hard through his nose, rests his head on the counter. It takes more willpower than he’d like to stop him from banging in on the hard surface a few times.

“You really should talk to him.”

He looks up at her, vaguely panicking at the thought. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Because his friendship means too much to me, and to Chris.

Because I refuse to open myself up and drag him down to this hole with me.

Because I’m not what he deserves, and I never will be.

“It’s complicated.”

Hen shakes her head, shrugs as she turns towards the back room. “All I’m saying is, he’s in here all the time, and flirts with you like it’s his job. I don’t think that’s all for nothing.”

She heads to the back, leaving Eddie to wallow. Maybe she’s right, maybe Buck does feel even a fraction of what Eddie feels, but that doesn’t change anything. Buck is still one of the best people he’s ever met, and Eddie is still full of unfixable darkness.

And he’s still so, so screwed.

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #eddie doesn't know what's going on in his head and honestly? relatable #the flower shop #ficcery

[sylvies-chen]

A few lyric choices for Melendaire

"There's a rumor going 'round and 'round and round. What'd you say we make it true." Rumor by Lee Brice

"We do almost everything that lovers do, and that's why it's hard, just to be friends with you." Why ( are we still friends) by 98 degrees

"say something I'm giving up on you. I'll be the one if you want me to. Anywhere, I would've followed you. Say something I'm giving up on you." Say something by A Great Big World.

// We do almost everything that lovers do and that's why it's hard, just to be friends with you \\

Claire doesn’t mean for the lines to blur. 

It starts when she’s sitting down in the cafe one day. Neil comes up to her and asks her for advice on what to buy for his sister’s birthday. He scrolls through his phone and shows her some options he had found online. 

“Your options are... alright,” she hesitates. 

He sighs and laughs, “I’m not very good at this gift picking thing, am I?” 

“It just takes practice. Gifts have to be about the sentiment behind them, make it something personal.” 

“Well, what if you come with me to shop for a gift? You’re great at this sort of thing.” 

The whole idea seems innocent enough, so she agrees. The trip is fun and uneventful. They spend the afternoon looking around crowded malls, window shopping and getting a feel for what Gabby would want as a present. They even end up getting lunch in the mall cafeteria, with food that isn’t half as gross as she had expected. 

A few weeks later, she’s complaining to Park about what a pain it’s been to replace her dresser and how the dumb IKEA catalogue lied to her and said they’d pay for someone to build it for her. Melendez overhears their conversation and chimes in when she brings up how expensive it’ll be. 

“I could do it for free.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I know how to build a dresser. I’ll come over later and help you set it up.” 

How is Neil Melendez always the knight in shining armor? She swallows hard, hesitant on whether it’s a good idea but accepts the offer, in desperate need of help. Claire tries to ignore the knowing look Park is giving her, and texts Neil her address during her break. 

He comes over to fix her dresser and just. Ok. Claire knows how to be professional. But he’s in her bedroom, and he’s wearing a tight t-shirt while building this literal piece of furniture for her and just. Damn. She doesn’t know how someone can look so good while sweating. It’s... distracting. And it definitely makes her job of staying distant and professional hard, but she doesn’t care. 

“Enjoying the view?” She catches him teasing her when she realizes she’s been staring at him, his eyebrow raised and his tone cocky. 

She blushes, rolls her eyes. “You wish.” 

Friends have flirty banter with each other all the time, right? 

Then, the lines blur even more. They’re all sitting down on the couches outside his office, trying to find the best course of treatment for a patient. They’re sitting on the same couch while Morgan and Shaun sit on the couch adjacent to them. 

She doesn’t remember when, or even how, but at some point she stretches her legs out on the couch which results in her feet landing in his lap. By the time she looks up and realizes what they’re doing, too much time has passed to put her legs down without making it awkward. He doesn’t look up from his papers, doesn’t try and move her legs, doesn’t even seem remotely uncomfortable with it. She watches him concentrating on his papers, his brows scrunched and his lips tight at the corners, and smiles to herself before looking back at her work. 

Then, later in the afternoon, it happens for a fourth time. She’s standing in a circle with her, Melendez, Shaun, and Morgan, discussing their plan. That’s when Claire sees it. Sitting on the shoulder of Neil’s blazer as clear as day, is a piece of lint. 

So Claire picks it off. 

“Sorry, you had a little lint there,” she brushes the shoulder of his blazer off. Apparently though, picking lint is now a crime, because the group falls silent. Neil doesn’t seem to notice, suppresses a smile before continuing to update everyone on the patient. 

As soon as he’s finished, Morgan yanks Claire aside to talk in private. Claire feels like her arm is getting ripped off and knows she’s in trouble for something when she sees that stern, motherly look creep onto Morgan’s face. 

“Browne, is there something you want to tell me?” 

“Uhh, I don’t know, is there?” 

Morgan replies by directing her eyes towards Melendez, waving a finger in between him and Claire. “Lint?” 

“What? He had a piece of lint on his shirt.” 

“Uh, dude. You’re the girlfriend.” 

Claire immediately snorts with laughter. “What? Morgan, stop being ridiculous. I was just being friendly.” She tries to ignore the way her stomach does backflips when the word girlfriend is associated with her and Neil. 

“Nuh-uh. When your friend has a piece of lint on their shirt you go ‘Hey there, bud. You got a piece of lint on your shirt’. When your boyfriend has lint on your shirt, you pick it.” 

“Since when has this rule existed?” 

“Since forever, Browne. It’s like the standard for boundaries. Like, ok, you can drive a friend to the airport, but only boyfriends and girlfriends will walk with you all the way to the terminal.” 

“Morgan, I work with Melendez. Nothing more.” She feels her heart drop a little and that’s when she realizes it. Realizes she wants more with him. 

“Park told me about the dresser. How he built it for you. And then today with the feet? You should have seen the way he looked at you when you first put them on his lap. Practically drooling. As someone who has actively looked for reasons to tear you down in the past, I’m telling you: Neil Melendez is definitely one of them. You’re the girlfriend,” she repeats.

Oh shit. Claire’s the girlfriend. 

“I... Excuse me,” she nods before leaving Morgan. This time, she’s the one yanking an arm as she pulls Neil into his office. He’s struggling, trying to pull away and looking around at the people passing by them, extremely confused. 

When she reaches his office, she’s almost out of breath as he stares at her, bewildered. “If you wanted to speak with me, you could have just asked.”

“I’m the girlfriend,” she huffs, her breathing still heavy. 

“What?” 

“You asked me to shop for your sister with you,” she starts explaining. “And then you come over to my place and build a dresser for me, and then the whole foot thing today. We always do these things. It’s confusing and... I don’t know,” Claire sighs, defeated. “Morgan’s just gotten inside my head.” 

“Oh.” His eyes look hesitant as he takes a moment to think everything over, but there’s something else there. Longing. He wants something and Claire doesn’t know what.  “Well, I’ll admit things have been less than professional for a while now. I don’t know,” he shrugs timidly, his hands in his pockets, “I know there’s a difference between friendships and relationships it’s just... it’s different with us.” 

“Yeah,” she agrees, lets herself smile. “When did these lines get so blurry between us?” 

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head thoughtfully. “We’re just kind of stuck in this limbo.” 

“Yep,” she replies with her lips pursed. “We’re too far gone to go back to being just colleagues and not far enough to be... well, you know. Not that I’m suggesting we do that,” she backtracks after a moment. “Unless you want to.” 

There’s this moment where it’s dead silent and they just look at each other intensely, his eyes melting in her gaze. Claire swears the world stops spinning on its axis for a second. 

Then, the barriers break down. Neil steps forward, cups her face, and kisses her, all in one swift motion. It’s warm and tender, his lips pushing against hers. She’s frozen for a moment, but quickly reacts and lets her lips fall into his.

And just like that, they leave the middle ground. 

“I definitely want to,” Neil answers her, catching her bottom lip as he pulls away. “I have wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Me too,” she realizes as she says it out loud for the first time. It’s actually stupid how much she’s smiling right now. Her cheeks almost hurt. It’s a feeling she doesn’t get often lately but she knows that’s about to change.

“So I was thinking,” he smiles nervously as he takes her hands in his, “that tonight, I take you out to dinner. On a real date, with your real boyfriend. What do you think?” 

The lines are sharp now, clearer than ever. It’s a technicolour rainbow of feelings she had tried hiding. For the first time quite possibly in her whole life, she says three words. “That sounds perfect.”

#the good doctor #melendaire #neil melendez #claire browne #tgd #song lyric requests

[rwbyremnants]

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Hard convos and fluff (and awkward almost-incesty feelings)

Getting pretty close to the end! Also I started writing a new project - I know I know, I'm not even done posting this and Princess And The Dragons! Believe me there's just a ton of fics I could keep posting for all eternity, but they're all a complete mess (except the 2 I'm working on posting now). I might hit the fuck it point and post a few of them without doing any editing or rereading to make sure they make any sense. Yay for all that information nobody asked for!

=Chapter 10

A few months passed. Ruby had no further contact with Winter after she drove away from her, apart from one message she asked Penny to send, establishing that she no longer wanted to continue their arrangement. No more sessions, no more visits to the club, nothing. Even the casual texts had stopped, or the occasional silly snaps back and forth of each other's day; it was like they had never met. Strangers.

Then came an occasion she was dreading. There were other family gatherings she had managed to bow out of – anything to avoid awkward contact again out of fear of embarrassing herself; but this wasn't one she could squirm her way out of so easily. Weiss's birthday. She would never want to avoid her idol's celebration, especially not when she was specially invited! Dodging that one would also raise suspicion, and make it far more obvious that she was avoiding something to the other guests.

Plus, she didn't want to hurt her any more than she already had. Her guilt was too heavy. Time to bite the bullet and say hello.

All she could do was mentally prepare while she was out shopping with Yang, looking for an ideal present with her wife. She had promised that she would look after whatever she bought so Weiss didn't find it; at least that was a promise she could keep without anyone getting hurt.

"Hey, how about a cute little pony?"

When Ruby looked over, she saw Yang was holding up some kind of rainbow-painted porcelain horse tchotchke. She practically welcomed the distraction, no matter how mundane. Raising an eyebrow, she laughed, "Oh God, are you gonna turn her into one of those kooky nerds who has a billion of those?"

"Well… no…" Putting it back, Yang sighed and looked around. "But I'm totally drawing a blank this year. You know she's the one who's good at picking out gifts, and I just… suck ass."

Still trying to distract herself, Ruby smirked back toward her, walking a couple of steps backward to keep their pace in the store. "She told me enough times she liked what you got her last year. You know… the 'banana'?" If she wasn't going to be able to distract herself with small goods, she could by embarrassing her favourite sister. "She tells me everything when she gets drunk, unfortunately."

Ducking her blonde head, her big sister groaned and muttered, "God, Weiss… why can't you handle your booze?" She cleared her throat and spoke up to say, "But I don't wanna get her another 'toy' this time. I want it to be something sweet. Y'know, romantic and shit."

"Oooh…" That didn't give Ruby all too much to work with. While Yang and Weiss were definitely happy together, even she knew romance wasn't Yang's strong point. Aside from throwing herself in the path of an explosion that time a few years ago, the closest she had gotten was buying flowers on one occasion; only to get rid of them when they discovered Weiss was allergic. That was a story she wouldn't let her live down.

"Well, what kinds of things has she been into lately? Anything she mentions in passing or something?"

"Um… music? Frilly dresses and expensive perfume? Marrying the worst girlfriend in the world?" Sighing, she leaned back against a shelving unit full of lawn gnomes and hung her head. "I'll just get her another Victoria's Secret gift card."

"Doesn't that kinda count as a present for yourself? Just saying…" But Yang's phrasing didn't sit well in Ruby's own mind. Sure, she didn't know what sorts of presents were romantic and usually ended up with a cop-out gift, but at least she wasn't hurting anyone in the process of that. The worst girlfriend award for sure went to Ruby Rose. "And we both know she has the better of the Xiao Long-Rose sisters, so don't say you're the worst, dork."

"Does not! You're the real prize, and Penny is so lucky! Geeze, if you weren't with her, I'd be beating guys and girls off you with a stick!"

Even if it was meant positively, Ruby wasn't particularly in the mood to play along. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders reluctantly as she wandered out of the store, walking aimlessly in the direction of a jeweller’s. "Nah, I'm lucky to even have Penny. Don't even know how she puts up with me sometimes."

After a moment, Yang followed. She took so long to respond that by then, Ruby assumed she had forgotten the topic. Then…

"Okay, spill. What's been up with you the past couple months?"

"H-huh?" Even if it was a question she should have expected, she was taken aback, instantly finding herself on the defensive. "N-nothing! I was just saying that Penny's good for putting up with me, that's all!"

"Yeah, but you and Penny never fight. She hasn't seemed unhappy being with you or anything like that, at all." Folding her arms over her ample chest, she demanded, "So what's up, Rubes? Spill – unless you want me to tickle it out of you."

No getting out of that not-so-idle threat, no matter how much she tried. And even if Yang didn’t tickle her, she would be like a dog with a bone. Sighing, she looked downward sadly, still idly pacing around in the hope either of them would see something of interest for Weiss.

"It's not Penny and me that have had issues. We're fine. Our relationship's been pretty solid for a while…" When she stopped in front of the bracelets, she debated where to begin, whether or not to tell the story. In the end… "But… I’m, uh…"

Sensing this was big, Yang slid an arm around Ruby's shoulders. "You can tell me anything. If you could handle me coming out and transitioning, I can handle whatever's bugging you."

In the end, that tilted the scales. Yang deserved to know, since she had always been so open with her. At the same time, she didn't need to know who it was. The thought of that conversation coming to light certainly wasn't a good one given Yang's past with Winter.

"You know Penny and I don't… y'know, that often. So, um, Penny let me go out and see someone else, purely for sex. It worked out so great at first, me and this other girl had an amazing connection… but I had to go and ruin it."

For a moment, all Yang could do was blink in surprise. "Whoa, really? Never thought of you as a 'side chick' kinda girl." She hastily added, "But that's cool! I mean, if you have needs and Penny's okay with it, why the hell not?"

"Yeah, heh… I guess." Scratching the back of her head nervously, she couldn't look Yang in the eye anymore. The situation was too sensitive. "But it got deeper than that. Penny and I talked about it as well, and… and we realised that I was falling for this other girl the same way as Penny. Which she felt, too. But then… then I said some really stupid stuff and made a huge mess."

"Falling for both of them?" But of course, Yang had mostly been saying that to confirm it to herself. Blinking a few more times, she then asked, "What kinda stuff? Like, maybe it wasn't as bad as you thought."

"L-like…" There was the awkward part; she didn't know how to word what was happening without possibly outing either Winter or Qrow. Sighing in frustration, she looked back up. "Okay imagine if, I mean just imagine here – you're about to confess your feelings to Weiss for the first time, but then when you're just about to, you find out she's been sleeping with… with Dad or someone as close as that. Y-you'd be shocked, right? Shocked enough to really hurt her feelings on accident?"

For a long moment, Yang just tried to process the very idea being put across to her. Then she burst out, "Dad's been banging your side-chick?!"

"No!!!" Quickly slapping a hand to her forehead, she groaned out in frustration; one that had a couple of people turning to look at them. "I said 'someone as close as', not Dad himself! But that's not the point, anyway!" Looking around some more of the various watches and charm bracelets, Ruby sighed again. "I was yelling at her how if she cared she would have told me, because that was happening before I started hooking up with her, and during. And like, she knew this person was close to me! And I ended up… ended up learning I'd hurt her on other occasions without meaning to. Bad."

This time, Yang took even longer to respond. They both went back to looking over the things in the displays, picking them up and putting them down. Neither really paying much attention to what they were seeing.

"This, um…" Yang held up a tennis bracelet with a musical note dangling from it. "Is this dumb? I… think she could like it, but I, um…"

Again, Ruby welcomed the distraction. As much as she needed advice for what to do next, she much preferred to ignore the subject and keep burying her head in the sand. "That is super cute, actually. Maybe you can get another little snowflake charm for it too?"

"Ooh, that's a good idea… let me know if you find anything like that. Or maybe a star, because…" Her voice got quieter as she added, "She's my star."

Despite Yang having meant it genuinely, Ruby only saw her usual attitude of pun making and groaned again. "That was sooooo bad, international superstar. But stars and snowflakes, got it."

"Y-yeah," Yang replied with a feigned laugh. Clearly she had thought that was really romantic and it fell flat.

They both dug through the display for a little while longer, and Yang did eventually find a snowflake. Ruby was still hunting for a star when she walked back over. Clearly her mind was preoccupied.

"Um… hey Ruby?"

"Hmm?" Noticing that Yang had found what she wanted, she turned back to the display a moment to look longer. "Still can't find a star… Do you mind if it's a typical one? Or do you want a more… what? Something wrong?"

"The typical one is fine, we dug through most of 'em." Then she cleared her throat and tried to sound unconcerned as she asked, "So, were you, uh, maybe, kinda… sleeping with Blake?"

That'd made Ruby drop the small charm she had picked up, which bounced and rolled under one of the displays before she could catch it. At least it was one of the cheapest ones. "Oh, shoot! Noooo!"

“Those things are dime a dozen. C’mon, I asked you a serious question.”

She looked back around to her sister reluctantly. "No, not Blake. I mean, she said she thinks I'm cute before, but also said she would never want to because of your past. Kinda... crossing the streams, or whatever."

"Okay," she sighed in relief. "Whew! Just… you know, I noticed you guys were kinda hanging out sometimes, and… like, I never for sure thought you were, but that’s the only obvious guess I have."

Breathing with relief, Ruby laughed nervously with her. "T-that's fine! Nah, she and Sun seem to be exclusive to each other, from what I know, at least."

Under her breath, Yang muttered, "She's said that one before…" Then she cleared her throat and said, "Okay, Ruby. Whatever went on between you and whoever… it sounds like you were going past just bumping uglies and into really caring about each other. Weren't you?"

"H-hey, it wasn't like-!" But as much as she wanted to deny it, Yang was right; that was the simplest way to put it. Looking downward, she mumbled, "Yeah… we were."

"But… she's also doing stuff with someone really close to you, and it kinda gives you the 'this room is too crowded' vibe?" When Ruby didn't answer, she sighed and ran a hand through her bangs. "Whoo. That's rough."

"She’s also roommates with this person," Ruby added. It seemed like a major detail to leave in given the situation. Pacing to the other displays, she explained in more detail. "I'm not really mad about that anymore, I guess… I'm more mad that I hurt her. Not just by yelling at her about that, but that I left before talking it though. And that I hurt her before all this ugliness and didn't even know I did."

"God… and you were just gonna walk around with all this weighing you down?" Reaching over, she tousled Ruby's hair until it was a messy brown-and-red mop. It was one of the few things she had done when she was Ying that still lingered, even with how much she had changed before Ruby's eyes as they both grew up.

"Sis, I can only work with the facts I got. From where I'm standing… it sounds like this, um, person is worth it to you to go out on a limb for. I’ve been watching you moping around the past few months, and it's like… like something's missing inside you. And maybe your hookup isn't what you need, or maybe she- they are, and… I think you owe it to both of you to try. Just… I don't know, talk to ‘em again. Be chill and see where it goes."

"How?" she asked desperately with a little shrug. "How can I be 'chill' about it when I more or less said 'fuck you and what you've been through' to her face? Like… okay, it wasn't those exact words, sure; but the message was the same."

Though Yang did wince at the implication of saying something like that to someone, she gripped Ruby's shoulder. Unfortunately, due to her ignorance of the topic, her phrasing was less than ideal. "Hey, so you messed up in a… not small way. Sometimes to get what you want, you gotta eat a little crow."

Which was rather noticeable, given that she immediately shut her eyes tightly at the remark. "GOD I'd rather not hear 'Crow' and 'Eat' in the same sentence, you have no idea…"

But whether Ruby liked it or not, her sister was completely right. The problem wasn't going to be solved by hiding from each other; they needed to talk. To apologise, say their piece, and learn. Even if they ended up still avoiding each other after, the least they could do was try.

Apparently, Yang had been trying to talk to her all along, because she finally said, "Yooo, you in there, little Ruby? Big sis calling!" Then a fist was knocking on the top of her head, albeit lightly.

"GAH!" Flinching as soon as her head was touched, she nearly managed to knock the bracelet from Yang's hand! But right away she composed herself again, scratching her head. "S-sorry… I spaced. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that we should probably check out," Yang laughed easily, beaming her usual confident smile down at Ruby. "This bracelet's kinda lame, but it's literally the only idea I've had all day that doesn't make me wanna hurl myself into a volcano."

Ruby could only smile back, handing over the small star charm she had unearthed. "I actually think it's really cute, she'll love it."

But just after they'd finished checking out and re-entered the mall complex, Ruby was attempting to get some information of her own. She had been wanting to for a while, but didn't know how without raising suspicion. As naturally she could, she asked, "So… who's coming to the party? Me, Penny… who else?"

"Oh, well you know. Family people. Plus FNKI is supposed to be there, and Blake and Sun." Pointing, she asked, "Smoothies? My treat, for helping me out with this."

"Yeah, I guess smoothies wouldn’t break the bank," Ruby laughed, following her big sis. "Family people… so Dad, Jacques… Winter…?"

With a slow drawl, Yang answered, "Riiiight. That's who family is. Oh, I don't know if Uncle Qrow RSVP'd yet or not; he was invited. But Dad's gonna be there for sure." Then she looked suspiciously at Ruby. "Unless there's a problem with Dad being there…?"

"Why would I have a problem with Da-" But given the rather serious look, Ruby rolled her eyes. "Look, Dad was an example. This friend isn't actually sleeping with Dad. If she was, he would be living in the house with them, cause they are roommates with the person, remember? And no, it’s not Penny, and it’s really not me."

"Well yeah, I guess. Just double-checking, okay?" When Ruby still seemed irritated, she sighed and said, "Okay, I won't ask who's who again. I get it, this is sensitive. But… I do hope you get whatever's going on squared away. And promise me you won't sit on it until too much time went by, and now you feel like you can't speak up. Please?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Ruby looked up to her sister anxiously. She was genuinely worried about her… and had good reason to be, given what she had to deal with a few years ago; of course now that a somewhat similar situation presented itself, even if only affecting her sister, she would be on edge. But not wanting to let on how truly she was bothered by this, Ruby instead looked at the smoothie menu.

"Get me a banana and blueberry smoothie and it's a deal."

But all Yang groaned in response was, "Do you have to pick 'banana'? I'm already embarrassed enough about that as it is!"

----------------------------------------

"…but she’s been saying she wants to eat more organic, so I figured, buying some vegetable plant seeds could be an idea; something to do with little Fèn once she gets older, also. Not such a boring present, is it?"

Winter’s father had offered to drive her to her sister’s birthday party to both spare her sobriety and cab fare. He insisted strongly, despite her reluctance to be in his company. In recent days, that seemed to be worryingly common; for her to be alone or seem a little more uptight and serious than usual. Even if he had never mentioned it, her father certainly noticed.

And when noticing she still wasn't particularly listening on this occasion, he cleared his throat. "S-so… Amber couldn't come. She had something with her own family she couldn't miss, so you and Weiss will have to meet her properly another time."

"Hmm? Oh, yes… that's wonderful, Father." It was a stock answer. Winter would normally have offered up something a lot more in-depth and pointed, but it seemed she still wasn't up to the task.

In fact, she had spent most of the past months avoiding any time alone with her father. Not that he would know why. Not that they never talked, but their discussions had been fewer and further between ever since he told her about Amber. Poor Jacques. The only cause he could think of was the possibility that Winter didn't like his flowering relationship. And no wonder; no one would like to hear their parent had moved on, much less such details.

While they were at a red light, he looked around to her, asking, "You… aren't mad at me for dating again, are you?"

"What?" she asked, roused from her reverie. "No, not at all… oh, Father, I'm sorry. My mind is just elsewhere." Frowning over at him, she told him as earnestly as she could, "I didn't mean to make you think I disapprove of Amber."

There was a wave of relief, and right away he swept the sweat from his brow. "Phew! You had me worried there! Last thing I wanted to do was make you or Weiss feel uncomfortable." As the light turned green, his attention returned to the road, but he didn't drop the subject. "Then what is wrong, dear? You've seemed off for a long time now."

"Have I?" she asked, trying to sound as convincing as she could. She shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Well, you have been a little," he admitted. "So, if it's not Amber… what is it? Is there something I should be concerned about? Have I done anything to upset you?"

"No, nothing," she answered immediately. There was no way she could ever tell him why she was so uncomfortable in his presence now - especially since it was getting easier to manage a little at a time. So she had to distract him, and she could only find one topic that would adequately excuse her standoffishness without making her poor father feel worse. "Just… I was beginning to think I might have found an 'Amber' of my own. But the relationship fell through before I could figure that part out."

"Oooohh… so, it's relationship trouble." While it was a better assumption than the whole truth, it was still awkward for old Jacques Schnee. He wasn't used to talking to his daughters in such circumstances until a couple of years ago, so the advice was always rusty. Still, he tried. "There's always more fish in the sea, even if you have to swim a little further out, I suppose. I know you get out more than I do, I'm sure you'll find a nice… girl, to settle down with someday."

Laughing weakly, Winter crossed her legs in the opposite direction, hoping against hope that it would abate her discomfort. No such luck. "Doubtful. I just don't feel that kind of connection with people. Not until…" Did she dare confirm? "Until she came along."

"I see… the one that got away, hmm?" Given the silence, that was also confirmed. While it wasn't as easy for him as it would be talking to a son about this sort of thing, he tried his best to treat her in the same way he would a son, and cleared his throat. "Girls are very mysterious. One minute you think you have them figured out, the next, you're back to square one. Or in your case, square zero. Of course, you know that, being a woman yourself." Scratching his head nervously, he tried to continue, "But what I'm saying is, don't bet all your money on one horse. If it's not meant to be, it won't happen. If it is, things will… well, they'll find a way to work."

"But I wasn't putting money on any horse," she sighed. "My feelings came as a complete surprise to me; I wasn't even looking! And then…" There had to be a way to discuss this without going into specifics. "We had an argument. About our relationship, and how we hadn't been entirely honest about our situations. It should have been something we could work through, but…"

"Ah, of course. Nobody likes complications." They weren't too far from the house, but rather than pull right up to the drive, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder a moment. "Listen, I'm not very good at this, you can tell; but it sounds like you both left everything up in the air rather than talking through the issue properly."

Winter could feel her anxiety rising. They were so close! She hadn't been mentally prepared to be alone with him for any longer than the drive there. But she also didn't want to squander this chance to have a non-superficial conversation with her father; they were so rare, and if she avoided this one she might not get another for a while. Or might even lead him to believe she hated him. That wouldn’t do.

"I wanted to try again. But she let me know we were done. That… she didn't want to see me anymore. She was so upset, I… how can I approach her if she hates me?"

Leaning back in his seat, Jacques sighed deeply, drumming his fingers against the top of the steering wheel as some form of distraction. "How indeed. Then again, your mother and I used to have our fair share of arguments before we got serious; sometimes, shit happens." It was unusual for her father to swear, even more so when he was calm. Still, it meant they were possibly getting somewhere. "Perhaps arrange to meet under more neutral circumstances?"

"Perhaps so." Her eyes flicked toward her sister’s house and the promise of safety, and she sighed. "We'll see. It feels so hopeless, but… I should at least apologise for my part of our misunderstanding. Then it would be up to her, right?"

"Exactly." He smiled toward her. "The ball will be in her court, as it were. If she wants to play, she will. If not… well, you can say you did everything you possibly could. It's disappointing if it does come to that, but in the end, it's far more satisfying to say you tried than to give up without trying."

Nodding glumly, she tried to let herself believe him. It was so hard! But she knew it was the truth; yes, Ruby was well within her right to end their arrangement, even without what went on with Qrow. Even so, that didn't mean she and her sister-in-law couldn't patch up their friendship, and discuss what went wrong like mature adults.

"You're right, of course. It's… I'll think about it. Thank you."

Nodding happily, he put his hands back on the wheel again to drive the last few seconds of the journey. Already, there were a few cars and bikes on the drive from the various guests. One of which included the small red car that Winter recognised so much: Ruby's.

Oblivious to that, Jacques was already taking off his seatbelt and opening the door. "In the meantime, just enjoy the party today. I'm sure Weiss will let you hold Fèn for longer than a couple of minutes this time!"

"Don't count on it," she laughed as they exited the car and began walking up towards the lakehouse. Despite their difficulties and Winter's private discomfort, she really did appreciate the talk more than she could say.

Once they got inside, they could see most of the guests had arrived. Yang and a few members of FNKI were loitering in the spacious entryway. One or two other children from Fenléng's daycare were toddling back and forth in the living room, their mothers likely nearby. Winter thought it was nice that she had a few little friends to play with.

"I'll be back in a bit, guys," Yang reassured both Flynt and Inu upon noticing the new guests. Suspecting they hadn't seen Weiss yet, she thought it best to greet the newcomers herself, managing to scoot past them to welcome her inlaws with open arms. "There you two are! Figured you got lost, again."

Jacques chuckled to himself, accepting a quick hug from her with a pat on the back. "That was just one time. Where is my other pride and joy, anyway?"

"Out in the garden with Ruby! I think they wanted to catch up a little bit before we gave Weiss her presents and stuff. You can head through, if you want?"

Raising a small bag and the box from Jacques, Winter said, "Where shall I put these?"

"Oh, I'll take 'em while we go through, it's on the way. Weiss's been waiting for you guys to turn up!"

With a brief wave goodbye to the two guests, Yang journeyed through the living room with both of Weiss’s relations following behind. She detoured to the kitchen with the two gifts, adding them to the pile, then leading Winter and Jacques to the rear conservatory doors. And there in plain sight were Ruby and Weiss, sat together on the bench.

The circumstances couldn't be any worse. Both Jacques and Weiss were completely unaware of the tension between Winter and Ruby. It gave no time for either of them to prepare mentally, especially not when Jacques was already walking outside toward them both, calling out to get their attention. "There she is! Twenty-two years young."

Turning, Weiss smirked at him as she said, "You got it right this year, Father. I'm impressed." Then her smile widened and she said, "Hey, sister of mine!"

"Happy birthday," Winter said, smiling gently. For the moment, she could forget about the girl sitting next to her sister. Ruby was definitely very important to her, but this wasn't her day, and it wasn't Winter's. "How does it feel to be another year wiser?"

"About the same," she laughed back with a little shrug. "Yang and I were just talking about that this morning; every year is just an encore, isn't it?"

"Once you're past twenty-one, it is pretty much the same,” Jacques chuckled. “Still, gives us an excuse to have a drink or two."

While he was making small talk with his daughter, Ruby continued to sit still with a drink in hand, staring toward the ground nervously. She knew Winter was there, but was far too scared to even make eye contact with her. Clearly, she had been just as cut up as Winter was in the first place. At least that was one small good sign; the pseudo-breakup wasn’t already an irrelevant event for the girl.

"So, how many others are on their way?" Winter asked, hands in the small of her back.

"Well, there's Blake and Sun," Weiss began to list off as she embraced sister. "Taiyang is on his way with Qrow. That might be everyone, right, honey?"

"Blake just messaged and said she's on the way," spoke up Yang from behind them, who had just finished putting the gifts away and was now coming to a stop by her wife’s side. "Aaaand Dad's on the way but a little held up because he went to get Penny from the airport. That’ll be a while, so… should we do presents?"

"You guys go ahead," Ruby said from her seat. At least now she raised her head a little, and looked outward to the large lake rather than at the floor like she was before. "I'm just gonna… chill here for a minute. Crazy week."

"Sorry to hear that," Winter said almost automatically. Then she cleared her throat and hastily turned to Weiss. "Are you ready for presents, or would you rather wait for Blake and Sun?"

"We can wait. In fact, now that I've stopped breastfeeding, I'm ready to have a drink. Can I get you something?"

Smiling demurely, she responded, "Oh, come on; this is your day. I can make drinks for both of us. What will everyone have?"

"Maybe Weiss already has the drinks I…" Though before she could finish that quip, Yang realised just who was in their company. They might well be on good terms, but an adult breastfeeding joke might be a bit too much for the subject’s father and sister to take. Winding back, she cleared her throat again. "Yeah, but I'll get them though, seriously. I know Weiss wants a strawberry daiquiri, and I’m still on the dry list. You two…?"

"I'm driving, so just sparkling water for me. What about you, Winter?" Jacques asked, although he was about ready to head inside.

Her eyes flicked to Yang, but then she said, "Martini, dry, single olive. That is, if it's no trouble."

"Nope, not at all!."

Weiss and Jacques headed inside first, with him asking about how she was and how Fènleng had been. It was always the subject whenever he came over now. But before Winter could step inside, Yang's hand landed on her shoulder, pulling her slightly around.

"Hey… you got a minute?"

That was quite startling for the elder of the Schnee sisters. Glancing both between the door inside and Ruby on the bench, she asked, "Of course, what's up?"

Glancing back at her little sister for a quick moment herself, she leant in closer toward Winter, talking in a hushed tone. "Okay, this is gonna be a weird request, but could you talk to her? This past few months she's had a bad case of the blues about, um, this situation she’s in. I know it's weird asking since she barely knows you, but… I'm kinda at a roadblock."

"Me?" Gulping, she glanced back at Ruby, then again at Yang. The woman she had treated so badly once upon a time. "I… don't have the greatest track record with helping people. Mentally. I'm honestly very surprised you'd ask me."

"Well, I'm stuck… Weiss is stuck, Penny's stuck… we're out of options. Not that you're a bad option, that's not what I'm saying at all! I mean, I know it's not gonna be the same as when you talked me into leaving and-" Sensing she was rambling, however, she looked down when the quizzical gaze of Winter met her own. "Bad start… bad start. But, yeah… if it's okay with you, could you? She may open up more if it's with somebody who doesn’t know her as well as us."

"Yang… you have me all wrong. I'm honoured you trust me to help her, and I'll definitely do my very best. Just… surprised." Swallowing hard, she whispered, "I've been hoping to… make things up to you; I know I can't, but anything I can do to try…"

"Oh pssshhh, I wasn't even thinking about that!" Yang quickly assured her, even laughing a little just to prove it. But in a short moment she squeezed her shoulder, just enough to convey she was serious. "I'm asking as a sister-in-law. Not as a 'you owe me'. Please?"

That prompted Winter to sigh in mild relief as she patted the hand on her shoulder. "That means the world to me. And yes, of course; I just apologise in advance if the talk doesn't do as much good as we both hope."

"Least we can say we tried. I'll have your drink ready in a second."

Finally releasing the shoulder, she headed back in the house behind Weiss and Jacques, leaving the two girls outside alone. Ruby, who was still trying to look to one side with her beverage to do anything to avoid looking her way; and Winter, who was awkward enough thinking about what needed to be done. It was pretty obvious Ruby wouldn't be the one starting.

There was so much she wanted to say, but in the end all she did was pace up behind the bench, come to a stop, and ask, "So… how have you been?"

Nervously shrugging her shoulders, Ruby kept watching the lake while she took a sip of her drink. Damn Yang… she didn't know anything about the situation, yet had somehow managed to convince Winter to do the very thing they needed to - despite her wanting to run a mile from it!

"G-good," she murmured after the sip, resting the hand back on her knee again. "J-just, um, doing so-so. And you?"

"I've been better… but I've been worse. So… I guess the same as you." She looked down towards her hands, white-knuckling on the back of the bench, and tried to relax. It wasn't working. "How are… you and Penny?"

Yet again, she shrugged her shoulders. However this time she at least made some form of effort to acknowledge her needs, by scooting to one side of the bench. "Not too bad, I guess. She has a new job, but she's been kinda stressed because I've been super tired a lot of the time."

Realising it would look strange if she kept standing there when there was an empty seat, she rounded it, sitting down as far away as she could from Ruby. Hopefully, she wouldn't feel crowded. "Why so tired? If it's not too much to ask about. Feel free to tell me it's none of my business, I…" But she didn't finish her thought.

"O-oh, it's nothing. J-just… uh…" Seemed it was more than nothing, especially when it came to the person she was admitting this to. But trying her best, she eventually shrugged her shoulders after another drink. "Just… felt a little off, that's all. I-it's like that sometimes."

"You should talk to your sister about that. She would know more about that, since she's… already on medication. No thanks to me," she added in a bitter undertone.

Closing her eyes, Ruby sighed deeply as she placed her glass on the ground and out the way. "That wasn't your fault entirely, you know. There were a lot of issues at the time with her, hiding under the surface. And besides, I'm pretty sure it’s not genetic; my parents weren’t diagnosed with stuff like that. So if it’s anybody, it’s Yang’s mom, I guess."

"Still, you… should work on what's troubling you." This was getting harder to dance around, and when she thought about doing so, she found she was unable to. "Because despite… how things played out, I still want what's best for you, Ruby. There's just no sense in you suffering if you can talk to someone, sort things out. Medication or no medication."

"I'm not depressed," she corrected. Although from the way she kept staring toward the ground, she wasn't exactly doing anything to prove that comment wrong. In the end, she placed her hands on the bottom of her small skirt, grasping the hem anxiously. But in the end, she thought to herself; what good would it do to keep distracting and leaving things unsaid? "I've just… been upset. Not Depression, not anything else; I'm just sad, okay? It… it was my own stupid fault in the first place."

"What was?" When Ruby didn't answer immediately, she followed up with, "I don't want to assume anything. That isn't my right. But maybe whatever has upset you wasn't your fault alone, and… and then you wouldn't have to punish yourself so harshly. Right?"

For a long while, there was silence between them. Ruby continued to look downward, still unable to yet look up at someone she once couldn't get enough of. It was almost tragic how far they had drifted thanks to a single argument. But the silence was lifted by a small, but rather desperate whisper.

"I miss you."

Winter's head raised, eyes wide. Her mouth worked as if she would respond right away, but she forced herself to stop, to consider her words more carefully. Then she stated, "And I have missed you. So much."

Tucking a stray strand of hair out of her own face, she eventually settled to holding her hands together on her lap, idly crossing her legs to appear casual. Just on the off-chance anyone inside was looking. But already, she could feel everything she had bottled up coming loose, feel her heart thudding with fear, eyes welling up.

"I just got so mad," she began to confess. “S-so mad and so jealous… and I had n-no right to be. That wasn't fair. Not when I-I'd done things just as bad to you."

"You didn't realize what you had done was so…" Winter paused, having to breathe deeply. This wasn't something she made a habit of discussing, so even now, months later, it was difficult. "We both crossed a line that we didn't think as important to the other person as it turned out to be. Is… that fair to say?"

It was accurate. All Ruby had wanted to do was show Winter that she was brave enough to do more daring things, while Winter simply wanted to keep the two most important people in her life happy without awkward encounters. It was certainly a fair assessment. Nodding in agreement, she stared out toward the lake again in a somewhat more contented silence.

"…How's Qrow?"

"Oh, he's been alright. They promoted him to assistant manager of the bar; said he was doing a great job with the work but was a little rude to the customers, so he was better placed being rude to the bartenders."

"So he gets to sit at a desk behind the bar and drink? Sounds like an ideal job for him."

Winter smiled down at the hands in her lap. "You… probably don't want to know any more details than that, do you?"

Though that last comment didn't make Ruby laugh. Unfortunately, she was still rather awkward about that situation. "N-no… not really. I wanna hear if he's okay but not like, those details."

"Of course, of course," she replied hastily. "I have no problem with that. As long as you agree not to tease me about… about the other thing. We can bring it up from time to time, but don't tease. It just…" She looked away, biting her lip to keep from showing a reaction too severe.

"I know… I stepped over the line." Nervously she shuffled in her seat again, looking downward toward the floor. A look of pure shame. "The truth is… I just thought that maybe… if I used my intuition and showed that I could be daring enough to try something big like that, you'd be pleased with my progress. But now I know, t-that was completely wrong. That you can't ‘guess’ with this stuff."

The corner of her mouth ticked up as she conceded, "Well, to be fair, you were right with everything except the third person who happened to be in the room. But your performance was… I still have to fan myself thinking about how good you were."

"It… was pretty hot." Unsure if that was crossing the line or not, she shrugged her shoulders nervously. "That doesn't count as teasing, right? To admit that it was really… really thrilling?"

"No, not at all. I… could tell you how I really felt about it, if you promise not to pass judgment. A-and if you promise not to think it means I dislike you; just because I was angry and upset didn't mean I wanted you out of my life! I regret so much that I made it seem that way…"

"I wouldn't blame you if you did… I crossed the line," she admitted again. She knew she deserved more than that. She expected fury, rage even, but Winter had something else to say. "…g-go on?"

"What I said during play… that it really turned me on… I wasn't lying. It did. But admitting that means admitting that…" Winter's cheeks were pink already due to how long they had been talking about their last session, but she bravely forged ahead.

"On the car ride up here, I spent the entire time trying to ignore how wet I was getting. Because I was in the same car as my father. You were so good, and gave me such a powerful climax, that now… now I associate that with speaking to him, being in the same place as him. Which I'm so ashamed of; it's… not as if he had anything to do with it directly, or as if I want to sleep with him! GOD, no! But the two things are connected in my brain pretty strongly now." Now that the older woman had said her peace, she closed her eyes and waited for the reaction. However bad it might turn out to be.

"Ohhh…" Surprisingly, it was far easier for Ruby to take in than expected. While it was good to learn that she had given Winter an extremely powerful orgasm, and Winter was proud of her as a sub… learning that Winter now associated her own father with their escapades wasn't so good. In fact, when she thought about it…

It was the same association she now had with Qrow once learning who he was. Finding out that Qrow was another of Winter’s partners made such thoughts hard to totally block out. A sexual context for her own uncle. They were both dealing with those awful tricks of their minds. Only difference was, Ruby knew she would never accidentally be picturing her uncle during the act the same way Winter might with her father.

"Shit… I really screwed up…"

"Not so badly. I mean, it's almost fun, when I'm not disgusted with myself." A few seconds later, she added in a weak murmur, "That was supposed to be humourous, but after saying it, I realized it didn't come out that way…"

Still blinking, she finally looked more in Winter's direction than the floor at last. Not eye contact yet, but it was better than what it was. "Geeze, I just wanted to do something… adventurous. To be bold or whatever. I didn't want to ruin an entire person for you, let alone your own father!"

With another gentle, nervous smile, she turned back to face forward. "You don't have that much power, Ruby. He's not ruined, exactly… just… this is something I'll have to work through. But it does help to have a specific cause; you fucking me under the desk, instead of just 'Surprise, you're turned on in your father's presence'. Keeps me from thinking I'm even more of a deviant than I already am."

There was a small chuckle coming from her. "That would be the worst version of the Daddy kink."

"Ugh," Winter groaned, ducking her head. "Do you know how long I mentally dissected me moaning 'Daddy' when I’m being fucked?! I haven't called him that in over a decade, and I still had to worry about it!"

"Oh my god, I was kidding - I didn't know you had one!" The laugh was beginning to increase in volume. In fact, it would be the loudest anyone would have heard her laugh in weeks, even if it was a slight form of teasing. Their talk was working.

So Winter kept it going. Yes, she was uncomfortable with the subject matter, but it was also a relief to be able to get it out and discuss it instead of bottling everything up. "Well, I do, but it never had anything to do with my actual daddy until that night. Not as far as I knew, anyway." Shifting in her seat, she muttered, "You know what they say about all little girls wanting to marry their fathers…"

"Not me; never ever been interested in men. Even me being kinda weird about sex aside…" Finally, she felt her muscles relaxing as she grew more at ease; even began to smile. Maybe things were going to work out for them still being friends, after all. In the end, that's what they wanted, to be in one another's lives, regardless of feelings.

But Ruby didn't want to leave it there. Talking about where things went wrong with their arrangement was one thing, but with their feelings was another. They had come too far, said too much to leave it there without talking it through fully. If only she could take that first step.

Though Winter beat her to it. "If you're sure you want to keep these secrets, and aren't already disgusted by me…" Her eyes flicked up to Ruby's face, then away again, waiting. Bursting to speak, but afraid that she had already gone too far.

"I could never be disgusted with you." At long last, she looked up, and right at Winter's face. It was like she was seeing her for the first time all over again. She could already feel the bottled up feelings reemerging, the compulsive need to grab Winter and kiss her as hard as she could. But they had to talk it out first. "Even after all my thinking, all this time with these dumb thoughts… I can't be disgusted with you. I can't even dislike you. And I don't want to. Because all this time has passed and I… I-I… still…"

Almost as if to head her off, Winter went on, "G-good. Because it's been getting worse, even if I've been getting better at processing it; understanding it's a kink, and it doesn't make me bad for having a kink if I don't indulge it. That's not as bad, right?" Her eyes held Ruby's for just a moment, hopeful, drinking in the desire she saw reflected there, before she turned away.

"As you heard, my father has begun dating this Amber woman. I've seen her, and she really is attractive." More fidgeting from the elder Schnee sister. "S-so… I may have had a stray fantasy about walking in on them…"

"Well… I-I guess… um…" Truly speechless after that confession of hers, Ruby looked to one side wide eyed, scratching the back of her head nervously. Managing to force a chuckle of her own, she admitted, "I guess these things don't hurt. Fantasies and all that, different strokes for different folks."

"You know, I could tell he was flustered by that sketch of yours - which I framed, by the way, I hope I can show you how it looks framed. That… is part of what made it harder to forget this whole thing. He didn't know it, but he was finding me attractive." Then she cleared her throat, waving that away as best she could. "Which only makes sense; he's always told me I'm a lot like Mother was. Weiss is the one who looks so distinctly different, even though there's a family resemblance, of course."

"Weirdly? She looks like your dad, if he was a girl… if that makes sense?" She could only hope that would be enough to make her chuckle along with her. The strange thing was, at the start of this arrangement, she was so obsessed with Winter's likeness to Weiss. Now, she could completely separate them. When with Winter, it was like Weiss was never even a factor.

"She does!" Winter admitted with a giggle of her own, raising a hand to her mouth to hide it. Then she sighed and said, "Anyway, enough about my budding Electra complex before I develop a thing for Weiss, too." Turning more fully, she looked straight at Ruby with a sober gaze. "I'm so happy that we can talk again. It might not be easy, but I can't tell you how much I've missed this!"

Laughing right back with her, Ruby picked her drink back up from the ground. The smile on her face evolved into a grin. "Me too! This was one of the things I missed. I mean, Weiss and Blake are great to talk to, but you sorta get fed up with them bringing up their other halves like, all the time."

Nodding, Winter crossed her legs in a lot less discomfited gesture - though she still shivered slightly at the action. "Indeed, they do go on about each other. But it's a positive thing, that they're in such stable relationships." Glancing over at Ruby, she asked in a careful tone, "You and Blake didn't ever…?"

Drinking the final swig of her drink, Ruby shook her head lightly, drawing the glass away. "Nah. We agreed that'd be too weird with how she was with Yang and all. Plus, as much as she knows she's bisexual…" Shuffling up closer to Winter a moment, she quickly checked the area to make sure no one was in sight. Thankfully, they were all too distracted by the presents to even notice those two outside. Finally, she leaned into her ear, whispering, "She is definitely all about dicks."

Giggling, Winter whispered back, "I know. I offered to Dom her a few times, or to let her Dom me, and she said she 'wouldn't mind' but didn't seem all that excited about getting around to it. I saw that as the gentle kiss-off that it was, and never pushed for an answer."

"Yeah… She won't admit it, but she is a cockslut," Ruby whispered back. And yet even when she was done whispering, she didn't move away. Not yet. She had become content with sitting right at Winter's side, even leaning in slightly toward her. So close… even after months, it was becoming like those few romantic sessions all over again. Except there were no characters, no practice. This was Winter Schnee and Ruby Rose.

"Do you still…" But as soon as the words began to form, she held a hand up, shaking her head. "Nah, forget it, I'm being dumb."

"I still miss more than just our sessions," Winter told her firmly, offering it when Ruby hadn't finished her question. "I miss YOU, all of you."

Ruby found no more words to say. Usually a chatterbox who let her mouth run, and she was completely speechless. All she could do was keep their close proximity, feel her cheeks beginning to heat up once more as Winter stared back at her. She always managed to make her blush… and this was no exception. After a brief check to make sure no one was around, she found her eyes wandering elsewhere. To Winter's eyes, her lips…

"Kiss me."

"Are you sure?" she breathed gently, allowing her index finger to brush down along Ruby's arm. "Someone might see. Or do you want them to see?" Quirking her lips, she whispered as she drifted closer, "Not that I would fault you if that was secretly what you wanted."

"I-I want…" She wanted everything to go the way it was meant to go when she first confessed her feelings for Winter. She wanted for them to be more, so much more. "I want you… I want to feel how you feel about me. Even after this long. I-if you still do."

At the more insistent wording, the lessening of ambiguity, Winter's eyes began to shimmer. Her throat tightened, and she leaned in yet closer. With only another second of hesitation, her lips took the younger woman's, hungrily and with great relish.

And she poured every last ounce of desire into her mouth as she kissed her back, as her hand slid up to rest upon her neck. For the first time, one of their kisses wasn't merely full of confidence, sensuality, desire. This time, there was so much affection - on a level closer to Penny's, though different in its own right. Open and earnest.

In the same way, Ruby felt her eyes closing in bliss. Her hand crept up and into Winter's hair, bringing her in closer. Her other hand was holding her glass as best she could, but even that was a struggle. In the movement and effort Winter displayed when she opened her lips slightly further, when she eased her tongue forward to brush against her own, she could feel it. This kiss was so completely different to what she had felt from her before, yet entirely familiar. Winter Schnee loved her, and she could tell from that single, honest kiss between them. And already she could feel tears welling up in her eyes all over again.

Though Winter continued to pour more and more of her affection into the contact, eventually it grew to be too powerful. She had to break away to whisper, "I thought I lost you forever!" before she threw her arms around Ruby, pushing her face into her neck and trembling all over as she tried not to break down entirely.

Although hesitant at first, Ruby eventually found the strength to hug right back, pulling her in tightly as she grasped the cardigan she was wearing. Everything was back, her scent, her touch; her. And she wouldn't have it any other way. What a fool she was to let it all go, to let such a thing slip away because of a pathetic argume-

"Guys, we're starting to open the presents!"

Yang happened to call as she stood by the conservatory door. Why did that have to happen now?! Thankfully, there was no awkwardness about the embrace; it simply looked like what Yang had intended for them, for Winter to have helped Ruby with her sadness. And that brought a smile to her face. "Awww, come on you nerds, get in here!"

Pulling back with a sniffle, she was sure not to do what she would have done - kiss Ruby again - and instead turned immediately to call, "Coming!" When addressing Ruby again, she whispered, "Are you going to be alright? I mean, I think I can dry it up, but we can linger a moment if you need to."

Moving the hand from the back of her head to her shoulder instead, she nodded. She desperately wanted to do the same, quickly lunge forward and kiss Winter. But that would have to wait until another time. "Y-yeah, we'd better. Yang's been worried about me."

"Yeah, she said. Your sister really cares for you; I'm glad you're so close." Biting her lip as she stroked Ruby's arm, down out of sight due to the bench, she whispered, "Maybe… she can be one of the first ones we tell, when we're ready. She and Weiss. I think they're the ones who might feel the most strange about us being anything other than sisters-in-law."

"Yeah… Yeah that's true. It would be a good idea." But it seemed at first, Ruby hadn't quite realised what that implied. Until she started to really think about it. And her eyes widened once she began to think on it more and more, before finally gasping, "You… want that with me? Like, to be completely out in the open? Really?"

"Possibly," she answered with a shy smile as she finally began to stand up, pulling Ruby to her feet alongside. "Depending on other factors. Mainly, you and Penny; if we did that, she would be part of a polyamorous relationship, even if she has no feelings for me. I don't want to put her in that position if she's not comfortable with it. And then we'll have to decide how we feel about each of the other people in our lives knowing about it in turn."

"Yeah, of course. If we don't handle this right, people would accuse me of being a cheater. And I don't want that – she doesn’t deserve to have people thinking that, either. Don't worry, I'll be talking to her about it soon."

Winter nodded, then couldn’t help grinning down at the little puppy. Now all hers – or at least, more hers than she had been expecting. "I can’t wait."

#Lady Stardust #rwby fanfiction #ruby x winter #rwbyremnants #INCEST TW #(even tho it's not really)

[graveyard-tales]

Road Trip AU

Korra and Bolin are in charge of the snacks. The only reason there are some homemade snacks as well as some healthier options is because Opal had tagged along. 

They have gps but it’s on mute because they kept mocking the tone of the voice. They all agree it sounds so damn condescending. They often forget about it, to the point where they almost stop using it completely. 

Bolin laid claim to the music. It’s not too bad, he has a little something for everyone, but it’s mostly all upbeat tunes. Sometimes something punk/rock/alternative comes on and they all try to guess if it’s Mako’s influence. He never confirmed and Bolin never says that some of it’s in there just for Opal. 

They all sing! Bolin is the loudest of course. Mako is the quietest. He and Opal are the most shy about it but she’s more open to singing louder thanks to Bolin’s praises and Korra’s encouragement. 

Most of the expenses are paid for by Asami and Opal. Korra and Bolin don’t really care, they pitch in a bit. Mako kind of hates it, though he doesn’t say anything. He pays for as much as his and Bolin’s share as he can. 

Mako and Asami do most of the driving. 

Asami can be a little fast but is the best driver of the lot. She grew up building and fixing cars, she learned to drive before she could even get her permit. Of course she is the best. 

Mako follows every rule there is, the car doesn’t move until everyone is buckled. But if there is a long stretch of road and no one is around?? Who's to say if the car is moving faster than it should. No matter who is in the passenger seat, he will do that thing where he puts his arm out to stop them if he has to break suddenly. 

Korra is the worst! She’s full on turning in her seat to look in the back seat. Mako’s yelling at her to keep her eyes on the road, Bolin clutching his seatbelt and Opal, Asami who saw this coming, already has her hand on the wheel. If no one is on the road with her she sways the car to the music. Korra doesn’t drive often and she likes it that way. 

Bolin isn’t as bad but he’s not great either. He has the music going, he’s in the middle of a conversation. One hand is on the wheel, the other is in a bag of snacks. He’s paying just enough attention not to hit the car in front of him. Good thing Opal and Mako are ever vigilant of where he has to turn. 

Opal is more of a cautious driver. Checks the mirrors, makes sure everyone is buckled, keeps the volume of the music down. No one would suspect she’s the most prone to road rage. If the horn is being used it’s most likely Opal cursing out the moron who recklessly cut in front of her.

Mako and Korra are banned from riding in front with each other within hours of their trip. “Korra you just made the wrong turn. It’s gonna take thirty minutes, if not a whole hours to get back to the main road.” “Jeez will you relax, consider this a detour into a nice town.” “This town has “last place a group of friends was seen in” written all over it.” “Judgmental much? Where is your sense of adventure!”

They only attempt to drive through the night once. Asami takes her turn, Mako takes his turn, Bolin takes his turn and they spend an hour the next morning trying to figure out where they are and how to get back to the main road. 

They only attempt to sleep in the car once. One of the boys was hit in the groin. There was a rancid fart that was obviously a crime against nature. Opal kept blinding people with her pen light she used to read with. Asami kept checking her phone. Bolin kept shifting. Korra tried to get them all to tell ghost stories, Bolin protested greatly. After Mako and Bolin (whom can sleep practically anywhere, even all cramped up) were the only ones to get any real sleep, they all agreed they’d splurge for a hotel room. 

Bolin, Opal, Asami and Korra all quietly agreed that they’ll all just squeeze into one room because they didn’t want to make it awkward for Mako. Mako meanwhile is like “this is so much more cost effective.” They generally get those rooms with the two beds and the pullout couch if they can . If they can’t it’s usually Korra, Asami and Opal squished in one bed and the boys in the other. On occasion Korra claims a bed at the Fire Ferret Fortress and crashes with the boys after she makes a blanket fort out of it. Mako has on occasion bunked with Asami and Opal when Bolin and Korra get too rambunctious. 

Bolin “Giant ball of yarn!!!!” Mako “We’re not stopping” Bolin, Korra, Opal, Asami chanting “giant yarn ball” until he finally gives in. They’re bored almost immediately only now Mako is keeping them there. If they wanted to see it so badily then he sure as hell going to learn why the stupid thing was even there in the first place. 

Bolin gets carsick the most, mostly on winding mountain roads. Asami is close behind, neither of them are used to mountain roads. Mako gets carsick once and no one even knew until the last minute because he was quietly staring out the window until he told them to stop the car and had the door open before it was fully pulled over.

They pull into a rest stop and Korra is leaping out and running to the bathroom. Mako nearly pushes Opal and Asami into the bathroom with her because they need to use the buddy system! Who knows what creeps are lurking about, Korra we talked about this! 

Of course It’s Mako who looks away for one second to find Bolin gone. It takes just a panicked second to find him (he’s in his 20’s now Mako, chill). Bolin is talking to a stranger who is standing too close for Mako’s comfort. 

Something goes wrong with the car at some point resulting in having to fix it up on the side of the road. Korra wanted to stand outside with Asami but they all agreed they didn’t want to risk the attention two young women could draw so Mako stood out with his best scowl fixed. Mako also knows more about cars than the other three, most of his knowledge is learned from Asami. (Though most of his mechanical knowledge is for his bike.) Someone still pulls over and asks if they needed help. Mako’s the one that tells him no and puts himself between the man and the car/Asami. Bolin is the only one who thinks he seemed nice when they all are back on the road. The girls blame Mako and that’s valid.

C A M P I N G

Korra finally gets her ghost story time. They all learn that Bolin has good reason to hate this because despite Mako’s generally shit story telling skills, he’s great with ghost stories. And just scaring the shit out of his little brother. He leaves to get something from the car only to appear on the other side at the climax of Opal’s story. He’s pelted with marshmallows for it.

Asami swears she hears something that night. Bolin’s too wired from the ghost stories. Their whispers wake up Opal, which ends up waking Korra. They all get hyper alert. Mako’s dead to the world. They all huddle close to each other, putting Mako between them so he doesn't die separated from their cuddle pile.

They almost crash twice. 

The first time Bolin and Korra were fucking around in the back seat. Opal got elbowed in the boob and Mako got kicked in the head. Mako was the one driving. Asami was the one that had scolded them this time around. Bolin and Korra kissed the back of Mako’s head and apologized. They did not kiss Opal’s boob.

The second time Bolin was driving and a drunk almost hit them causing Bolin to swerve to the roadside. The drunk had enough sense and conscience to pull over and check on them. Korra and Opal nearly launch themselves out of the car at him. Asami’s trying to comfort Bolin and prevent him from hyperventilating. Mako’s just as livid because they could have been hurt and Bolin’s terrified. But he reigns them in because he realizes they are quickly on the path of being the headline “group of young adults beat a drunk man on the side of the highway”.

If Korra is triggered or just has a bad night it’s really hard for her to stay in the car for long periods. So they take a lot of long breaks that day so she can walk out some of those nerves if she can. 

Both Mako and Korra get flare ups, mostly when the weather suddenly shifts.

When her legs are doing bad Korra can hardly walk but it hurts just as bad to keep her legs all scrunched up. So she’s either in the front where she can get the most leg room or she has them stretched across the very back seat or across the lap of whoever is next to her.

Mako’s is a little easier for him to ignore. He can more or less drive with one arm but if it gets too bad it makes it hard for him to concentrate on the road or follow the directions. He still keeps his sling tucked away to help keep it still, but he rarely ever uses it.

Both of them are too stubborn about it and usually don’t bring it up until it’s hurting too bad to ignore.

They drive through a safari park. 

Bolin did not heed the window warning and screamed when an ostrich head was suddenly through the window.  A truck of hay drove past them and a heard of bison walked up to the road.  They got stuck for nearly an hour when a particularly stubborn and lazy Emu parked itself in the middle of the road.  They got lucky with the tiger that was laid right near the fence but could barely see the cheetah across her enclosure.  They spend the rest of the day in the walk through portion. 

They bar crawl in a big city. Mako remains sober, he didn’t really get a choice but he doesn’t mind too much. Asami and Opal don’t get that drunk, Bolin and Korra get smashed. On the way to their hotel, Bolin and Korra try to have a competition on who can lift Mako. They both win much to his disdain and embarrassment. Asami is in her own little world giving Opal a piggy back as they sing to whatever was playing in the last bar. Mako realizes they should have at least done this back home instead of a city they hardly knew. They all agree the next day that it was really dumb.

Bolin and Korra are always trying to wingman Mako. If he so much looks at a girl they’re like “don’t work, I’ve got your back” and he has to desperately try and reel them back. Asami and Opal are much more subtle and successful about it. Mako never keeps any of the numbers. 

The only time Mako gets a number on his own is with a guy he didn’t realize was flirting with him until he was given the guy’s number. Cue quiet day for Mako as he reflects on shit he spent the whole time pushing down as a teenager. (Because Mako knows on some level he just spent so long pushing shit down that it’s second nature. And truth be told he had been thinking about it a lot more since Korra and Asami came out and started dating. Holy shit I’m bi??? He doesn’t mean to say it out loud. The girls are actually kind of surprised. Bolin really isn’t.) He doesn’t keep the number.

They absolutely hit up a beach and camp in the sand. Korra found and caught a crab but Bolin had instantly became attached to it. They end up letting it go. Opal and Bolin go hunting for seashells. Bolin adds many to ever growing collection of things. They nearly all get drunk around the bonfire they made.

Korra pokes and tries to get Mako to open up a little about his revelation in the car but he gets embarrassed and shrugs it off. They tell him they’ll don’t think of him any differently, which, duh. Bolin gets them all started on saying how much they love Mako. They do, of course, but they also all say it because they know how embarrassed he gets. His face is absolutely burning and he tries to walk off into the ocean before Bolin drags him back. Mako knew he would.

They most definitely go to the aquarium the next day. They spend nearly the whole day in there. 

Bolin just wants to share a romantic kiss with Opal with some serene nature background. 

Korra shares this sentiment. 

Mako’s tired of having to take pictures of his friends kissing in nature, he just wants to enjoy the waterfall, guys please, no more pictures. Why do you need me to do it? Why can you take the pictures for each other?

Opal takes the most pictures of nature. Bolin takes the most selfies and gathers the most rocks. He’s got nearly a whole bag by the end of their trip. 

On their last stretch they hit up an amusement park. 

Opal loves the ferris wheel the most. Bolin decidedly does not. He clings to her every time they move and the compartment rocks.

It’s not surprising that Asami enjoys the fastest rollercoaster they have. It is a bit surprising that Mako is right there with her when she tries to drag them back in line for another go. 

They all do the bumper cars numerous times. 

They all have a competition to see who can win the largest stuffed animal. Mako wins. He gives the absolutely giant Ninja Turtle to Opal because he knows she was trying to win it for Bolin. Bolin gives his little jellyfish keychain to Mako in return. He absolutely attached it to his keys. 

They all win as many toys as they can to give to the kids back home. 

When they are finally all back home they agree the trip was one they’ll always remember and treasure. They also agree to never do it again and Asami swears she’ll buy the plane ticket herself if they ever decide to go anywhere again. 

They do the same thing the very next year.

#Korra #Asami Sato #Mako #Bolin #Opal Beifong #LoK #Legend of Korra #Idea Bank #I needed a mental break today #and actually had a blast coming up with this #I've only been up and down the west coast #so this is really on from what I know #slaash some stuff I've done too #i was going to say something about a ghost town #and how bolin absolute did not pick up anything from there #because of a rumor of a curse #BUT #it's already so long #hahah #def got carried away #no one is going to read this

[jimmymcgools]

I’ll bite. The scene where Jimmy is all in his head at the Christmas party and storms out to the parking garage, where he kicks the crap out of the garbage can.

❤️❤️❤️ahh thank you!! 🎄🗑🎄🗑

i thought a lot about the conversation with vernon in this scene, because i wanted jimmy and kim to both leave this party angry, and each have their own reasons. i tried to figure out what might anger them both most -- for jimmy, it’s being looked down on and sneered at, and for kim, it’s the thoughtless (almost cruel) privilege on display. 

jimmy doesn’t really notice kim getting angry because he’s so much in his own head, but vernon suggesting that she just take a couple of months off study for the bar exam -- and hey, just skip a couple of parties, kim! -- is pure wexler rage fuel. 

this anger + vernon stonewalling/insulting jimmy is what has kim being more openly affectionate with jimmy than usual here. touching him, calling him her good luck charm. it’s a defence of jimmy, but it’s also defending herself, in a way, or at least making her position clear as the class lines fall down between everyone -- i’m not with your lot, i’m not like you, i’m with him.  

kim thinks about this party a lot for the next few months, just like jimmy, for her own reasons. “the only time they looked any different was when they were looking at you”. i think kim both really wants to be part of that world AND can’t stomach the thought of it. 

and then jimmy. being dismissed by howard, being insulted and talked down to by vernon, being on the outside of these law conversations he can’t follow -- like his memory of watching the shadows of grown-ups from the top of the stairs and wishing he could join them. 

And whatever’s been bubbling inside Jimmy finally boils over  throughout the party i wanted to set up this like, countdown/build up of physical sensation, starting with the conversation with howard in the stairwell. 

and he thinks: I could get you. It would be so easy. It would be as easy as blinking, as easy as opening my eyes.  i don’t use first person thoughts like this very often in my writing, but they pack a punch. part of me likes saving them for big moments, but i should also remember to use them more.  

It’s an old mood, a well-worn mood, and he’s a little out of practice with it, but it settles over him like a second skin. Or like a shedded skin, found again.  something creepy and snake-like about this that spoke to me.

And he can feel Slippin’ Jimmy coming back—the real Slippin’ Jimmy, not the grinning clown who dances coins over his fingers or bends cigarettes in half, but the guy who fractured his knee in front of an elderly woman’s porch just for a chance at a few hundred bucks; the guy who screamed at his own brother so loudly he couldn’t bear to look at him again for five years; the guy whose wife ran out on him—Slippin’ Jimmy, dumb and drunk and angry, always angry— i really wanted to draw a line between slippin’ jimmy in cicero and the dark, angry jimmy we see sometimes in bcs. in pinata, in the bar scene in expenses, in how he coldly kicks out that kevin costner girl. the guy who can become saul goodman. even just in the guy in uno who leaves a meeting and kicks the shit out of a trashcan, or in bingo kicks the shit out of an office door. i think there’s real anger in there.

He imagines the fireworks the shattered shards would make beneath the thousands of Christmas lights.  earlier in the chapter, jimmy tells kim about the christmas tradition of throwing old bottles at the brick wall out back of arno’s, and compares them to fireworks. no doubt some years slippin’ jimmy was picturing specific faces as he threw them

And the burning, unstoppable feeling rises, angering Jimmy more than anything else, angering him just for feeling it; angering him like seeing Howard reflected in the glass of the lobby, a kid pretending to be a king; angering him like Kim’s hand on his elbow—Kim, who hasn’t fucked him again since White Sands, and he doesn’t know why, and he thinks—he thinks— —what the fuck is wrong with these people, standing here dying in this room.  i wanted to capture that feeling of becoming so angry that all your little justifications and compromises shatter. he certainly hasn’t spent the last few months hating kim, but this thought has always been there, just outweighed by all the things he still gains from the relationship, and boxed up by careful rationale. but now it’s like every thing jimmy has cause to be angry about is crashing to the surface.

and the howard thing -- i think jimmy fights against feeling small by trying to put himself above the people who make him feel that way. “i’m a god in human clothing!”

He steps in just as they’re shutting so that by the time he turns around they’ve closed, and it’s just himself staring back: mirrored and warped.  thinking about chapter 1 here, where jimmy rehearses his greeting in front of his reflection in these elevator doors. 

He pauses, breathing heavily—but there he is again, his red-patterned tie flashing on the curve of a trashcan—so he slams his foot into the reflection,  self loathing set to MAX! 

“I talked to Howard,” he says, gaze trained on hers, his voice harsh and thin. Kim looks down at the trashcan beside him. “It went that well, huh?” “Yeah,” Jimmy says acidly. “Yeah, it went that well.”  i’m always trying to have these two communicate in as few words as possible. jimmy just offers the most dry and simplistic explanation here. she can tell it’s not everything.

and then kim, again, angry in her own way -- she’s gentle with jimmy here, almost treating him with kid gloves. still and quiet, not touching him again, just walking away and letting him follow. 

and a little wary of him, maybe, but wanting to give him what he needs -- and give herself what she needs, too. i think kim leaving the party and going home with jimmy is also more of that affirmation i talked about earlier -- as much as she wants to be in the HHM world, part of her can’t stand it up there, and she wants to prove it to herself that she’s not completely up there yet. she can be down here, with jimmy, too.

#asks #commentary ask meme #simple-potates #a controlled burn