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#also trying not to cry about going long distance with my partner
notquite-docbirdy · 10 months
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T-minus one month until I start classes 😳 I’m very nervous but also excited.
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sttoru · 7 months
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Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.
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you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.
but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.
the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.
“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”
the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”
you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.
“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;
the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).
megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,
“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,
you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.
“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.
you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.
another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.
that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.
“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”
it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.
“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”
you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.
megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—
“papa! papa! candy!”
you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”
you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.
the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.
megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.
they got you good.
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starry-bi-sky · 1 month
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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.
He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.
And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.
And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.
Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.
Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."
There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.
It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.
Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.
At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.
"Do you like to do anything?"
Nothing. Just silence.
Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.
Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.
Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.
And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.
He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.
Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.
So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.
"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"
"Don't."
He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.
Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"
"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."
It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"
The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."
Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."
And they fall back into silence.
Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."
He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.
(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)
At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.
Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.
("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")
(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)
(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)
It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."
The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."
The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.
When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.
Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."
When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.
Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc prompt#man i just really need more dpdc stuff where danny and bruce have a good relationship. like man i NEED it. like i need to see these two#bonding together. and not in a cracky 'oh danny is a distant friend/cousin/etc' stuff but like. active participants in each other's lives#or as active as can be in this case. i neeeeed these two getting along and caring about one another#this idea came to me like last night and hasn't left since nd it was driving me up the wall to think about both positively and negatively b#i neeeded someone to hear about this or i was gonna implode#danny is the first son#tried to just get the general gist of the idea down but i definitely thought of the idea that bruce lowkey suspects vlad for having a hand#Vlad allows Danny to sneak off because he thinks Danny is alone. if he knew Bruce was there he'd be piiisssed and would put a stop to it#Sam and Tucker are alive they just got ghosted for a bit by danny bc he was in Major Grief and didn't wanna socialize. He couldn't go to#them because he didn't wanna put them in danger via Vlad.#oh that thing he handed Bruce? Yeah that's his ghost core. I have a headcanon (that isnt always applied) that ghosts can take their cores#out of their bodies at will and painlessly and without issue. and its common practice actually to do so bc they can be a not insignificant#distance away from said core before problems start to act up. and its common for ghosts to leave their physical cores at their lairs for#safekeeping because as long as the physical core is fine: so is the ghost. they can reform if their body gets destroyed. it also acts as a#fast travel sometimes. where they can reform at their core in an instant. its not inspired in the slightest by SU but i do see the overlap#most cores are pretty small for safety sake: its harder to hit if its small. and they're pr resilient too but its better to be safe than#sorry. so yeah. danny essentially gave bruce the physical embodiment of his soul and indirectly said#'if anything happens to me at least i'll be safe with you'#danny doesn't know he's batman btw#starry rambles.#was gonna go into danny becoming a vigilante beside bruce but im sleeeepy so i'll do that in a reblog. he's gonna go by nightingale if#anyone is interested. stereotypical but to be frank it is a *good* name imo. has a good amount of syllables and consonants to it#and the bird theme. and since its part of an ancestral name it has even more backing for it being bird-y without being meta
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AITA for talking about my fights with my partner with other people?
I (18M) and my partner (17NB) have been together for a couple of years now. Like most couples, we've had our fair share of fights, some of them very serious. I have a problem with paranoia over if I'm doing the right thing or not, because I have trouble understanding right and wrong unless I've been through a situation myself or had the morality of it very heavily explained to me. Because of this, during several of our heavier fights, I would go to people that I trusted and show them the conversation from beginning to end through screenshots (me and my partner are long distance at the moment, so most of our fights have been over text), and ask them if I was alright or I was being a dick.
However, over time, this caused most of the people I was close to to hate my partner. Several of them believed my partner was abusive or at least toxic because of the fights they saw, and at least one was outright violently angry towards them, publicly making a post about wanting to hurt them (I apologized to my partner for this, and asked repeatedly that this person take the post down, made it very clear I wasn't okay with that, but they kept it up anyways.)
I tried to change their opinions by highlighting positive things about them, and repeatedly making clear the things I knew I had done wrong to them so it was clear any toxicity wasn't one-sided (please don't even try to question if I was really bad or anything like that. Had it happen before. Yes what I did was actually wrong. I have apologized and been working on it for a long time now, and debating if it was really wrong will not be helpful or wanted.) But even so, even now, everyone who knew even parts of me and my partners problems still hate them.
My partner has made clear to me that this hurt them. It made them feel isolated, and very alone. Because I had people backing me up and people to talk to, and those people hated them, while they didn't have access to therapy (which I also had at the time, and also do now) or people to talk to about it at the time.
I've apologized for that, and long since stopped telling anyone about our fights or problems. Partially because I found out it was hurting them, and partially because a few months after I had started doing that in the first place, things took a turn for the worse in our relationship and I always either didn't feel comfortable showing people what was happening anymore, or when I did, I ended up being asked to stop by the people I spoke to because what was going on was too heavy and often triggering for them to handle, which I respected. I also didn't have access to therapy for a while because I had just made a major move and my old therapist wasn't licensed to treat people in the area I'd moved to.
However, more recently, I opened up to both my therapist and my mother about everything that happened. Unlike with before, both of them got the full story, from the start of our relationship to now. I made sure to include everything I had done wrong (that I either figured out on my own or my partner told me about, I do worry that there's other things that I don't even know about yet) so that I didn't paint myself in a better light than reality. My therapist cried when I told her. Not full on crying or sobbing, but I could see the tears in her eyes the entire session. My mother was very angry. Both of them think it's for the best we break up. My therapist agreed it's toxic, which I know it still is, although I've been doing my best to make the relationship more healthy over time. She didn't outright say the words, but when I told her what my mother had to say about it, it was clear that she agreed with her that it was abusive. She wasn't angry the way my mother was, or as insistent about me breaking up with them, but she didn't think this relationship or this person in general was healthy towards me.
My mother, however, was almost violently angry. There was several parts of the story where she clenched her fists or had to pause to calm down. On top of that, when I brought up my partners disorder (it was heavily relevant to a large part of the story, as knowing they had it was necessary to really explain what happened for many parts of it), she started repeatedly telling me that she believed they're faking to manipulate me, and that "based on her years of research that wasn't how the disorder worked" (her "years of research" was an introductory college psych class over a decade ago, which barely mentions the disorder in question, so I don't trust that at all). This made me worry even more that I was being an asshole by sharing this, because I know firsthand how much it sucks to have someone not believe you about your own mental health. Not to mention, I have a similar disorder myself, so it felt wrong the way she talked about their disorder (I brought this up but she said it was different and she believes me, just not them. I'm pretty sure that's mostly because I'm diagnosed, and they aren't, due to not being able to get therapy). She also wouldn't believe they didn't have access to therapy because they live in a place with free healthcare, and didn't seem to understand that doesn't always apply to mental healthcare, especially when they're a minor and their parent won't get them therapy even when asked.
However, the reactions from both my mother and my therapist has made me start to question if telling people about our fights was really an asshole move in the first place. On the one hand, I know it hurt them, and that I hurt them in other ways on top of that. But on the other, if even middle aged adults, including one with a psychology degree, think it's so bad on their end, maybe telling them was a good thing. I don't want anyone to hate my partner, especially not when I know I was also toxic towards them and I don't feel like it's fair to treat them like they're so much worse than me, especially when my partner has said to me that I abused them (this was also shared to mother + therapist). But the way these recent events have gone have left me confused, and feeling like a giant asshole towards my partner all over again. So am I one for this?
What are these acronyms?
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worriedvision · 22 days
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tighnari x reader where the reader cries a lot, over small things and over small sad stuff. (not quite crybaby but emotional) one day reader is going to like the tavern place in sumeru (yk the place where everyone was in alhaitham's demo?) and hears tighnari complaining and talking bad about reader and a time where they cried over something small with his friends (like cyno, kaveh, haitham) and then the reader well (cries over that, and just avoids him for a while) BUT its gonna be a fluffy ending where he apologizes and everything he said after the reader tell him the stuff they heard. you recently did one of my requests, i was very pleased with it, so, thank you very much, lovely!
As someone who cries a lot over small stuff, this is so me lol! Gender neutral reader, sad ending unfortunately. I was going to make it a happy one, but it felt right to make it a sad ending lol
--
There were times that you didn't know how you managed to get with Tighnari of all people. He was the one who didn't try much, in fact at the beginning of your working life with him he couldn't stand your weeping over small problems. Any minor problem that you caused, anything that could be easily fixed, anything that someone else was going through? You'd cry at the drop of a hat, there were times that you'd be embarrassed after thinking about. He was the one who asked you out, and you landed up crying before saying yes as if it was a damn proposal.
You'd try to get better with grounding yourself a bit, distancing yourself mentally from things that would make you cry, but you'd still cry at small things. You suppose that was your 'superpower' that was actually a pretty pathetic power.
Your most recent crying episode was from some idiot who had consumed a mushroom that caused them to hallucinate - the hallucinations being scary. You couldn't help but cry when seeing them distressed, which was what alerted your boyfriend to find the poor person quicker. When you apologised for crying yet again, your boyfriend brushes it off and states that it's just part of who you are.
You thought he was past the point of being angry whenever you showed these emotions, so you decide to meet up with your friends for drinks. As you get to the bar early, you decide to wait outside for your friends. Kaveh happened to go in, waving and giving a cheery hello as he nips in to hang out with friends. Shortly after, a friend shows up and you both enter.
Upstairs, you can hear your boyfriend huffing to himself.
"What's wrong?" Cyno asks, Tighnari instantly ready to reply.
"I'll tell you what's wrong, my partners a crybaby!" Tighnari tuts, Kaveh clearing his throat as he knows you're no doubt hearing this.
"You knew about that part of them long before you were dating." Alhaitham states, crossing his arms at the same time that you get up to leave.
"Well, I thought they would calm down with their feelings by having a partner, and I am attracted to them physically." As he finishes the statement, you've left the bar with tears in your eyes.
--
The next week, you don't give Tighnari any affection. It was clear to you that he didn't like one of the most obvious things about you - how overly empathetic you are. He didn't have the time to think too hard on this, which gave you more time to reflect on the state of your relationship.
It becomes increasingly clear that you just were not right for him. You were lucky to get some time with him as a partner, but you had the impression that he saw you as someone he had to babysit whenever you started to cry. It didn't matter that he was physically attracted to you, he wished you weren't so emotional about everything.
With him also being the boss, you knew you would need to find work elsewhere as soon as you could. As much as it hurts you, you two were like chalk and cheese.
He deserved someone he didn't need to be on eggshells around, and you deserved a partner that cherished the fact you could put yourself in the position of others and really feel how they felt.
--
When your boyfriend asked you to meet him at the bar, you were ready to tell him you were breaking up with him, and you had been mentally preparing yourself to not cry.
"I hope you are well, I'm afraid I have some bad news." Tighnari states, pushing a paper and a pen towards you. "You are fired. I am also breaking up with you - your empathy is something I cannot work with as an employer, as well as a boyfriend."
It was like a slap to the face, you were ready to just cry a little bit at the conversation.
But instead of being sad, you're angry. Grabbing the pen, you feel several sets of eyes on you as everyone around you is seeing and hearing everything. Signing the paper aggressively, you slam the pen down as you make direct eye contact with your now ex-boss and ex-boyfriend.
"You did this to embarrass me. You did this to emphasise something I already know - I cry too much." You spit out, not a single tear leaving you as you got straight to anger.
"Fuck you, Master Tighnari. I hope I never see you again."
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tynearshot · 3 months
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Sai and Sebastian’s Past Relationships Part 1
Hi all! I just wanted to Give Sebastian and Sai more flavor and take you into their past relationships. Here’s Seb’s.
TW: Abusive relationships, bullying, censored slurs, sex, drugs and alcohol, family tension.
Sebastian:
Age 15.
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It’s hard being a queer kid already, but being a queer kid in the boonies feels like living ten years in the past. Seb and the Pelican town kids didn’t have a highschool in their town, so they commuted via bus pretty far out. By this time, Seb was sure he was bisexual but didn’t dare explore that. He was already bullied: Skinny, vaguely non-white, Antisocial, mixed family and had his hair long, leaving room for all kinds of “you look like a girl” and f slurs. So, he was often found hiding out under the bleachers, where he met his first “boyfriend”. In quotes because this boyfriend was very much not out and would often throw out “I’m not into guys, I’m just into you”. The rising Gridball varsity player (not Alex He’s a couple years younger than Seb in my HC) and the pariah. A cute pair, set up to fail.
This “boyfriend” also would often stroke Sebastian’s hair and comment that he’d ‘make a very pretty girl’ or ‘I wish you were a girl so we could be open’. Sebastian never cared that he was called feminine, but he hated hearing that from his boyfriend. He hated feeling “wrong” to someone he cared about, but at least it was something, he often reasoned.
They had… a pretty traumatic break up. Rumors went around that the two hung out (they did much more than that, including being each other’s first in a lot of ways). And the grid ball team confronted Sebastian accusing him of trying to corrupt their grid ball star with his “f***** germs”. And who was there to back the bullies up and keep silent but Seb’s boyfriend. Pushed down, roughed up verbally and physically, Seb confronted his boyfriend privately: “why didn’t you stick up for me, why would you let them do that, don’t you know you’re bi too?! I thought you loved me”… Seb wanted to say all this. But instead went “If you ever try to talk to me, call me or even look at me ever again, I’ll let everyone who the real fucking f***** is…”
One of Seb’s lowest points. One day while crying he felt his hair in his hand and remembered how his boyfriend stroked the left side of his head. Disgusted, he promptly gave himself an asymmetrical haircut. Luckily he had Sam around to cheer him up with some goofs and Abby around to clown him, but trim/clean up his new haircut. A rough first love, but a first love all the same.
Age 18
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Sebastian was tired of the “what will you do now?” “Don’t you know you’re wasting your potential?” questions he was getting from his Mom and stepdad. In a fit of emotions, he packed a bag and rode to the edges of ZuZu city. The night he arrived, he was so full of feelings and just wanted to be numb. Drinking, clubs, drugs, parties, sex with strangers, all things he wasn’t ready for. He couldn’t be the good kid his parents wanted and he couldn’t be a “delinquent” either. So who was he? It all came down as he crumpled into a ball on some random stoop. The stoop happened to be that of his next partner, Grad student, Hae-Jin.
Hae-Jin invited Seb in, and let him stay to figure himself out. And with Seb at his most vulnerable, it was a quick and passionate week long courtship. Hae-Jin was good to him. They even convinced him to go back home and try and reconcile with his family (that’s a story for another time). They then were long distance for a year and he’d go and visit them as much as he could afford the gas to. But as time went on, the relationship soured. Seb began to feel like a secret again. And he kinda was. Hae-Jin was 24 and offhandedly would mention “My friends’ll call me a cradle robber.” Seb began to resent that. “They had a problem with my age but not with sleeping with me?”
At the same time, Hae-Jin would often pressure Seb to move in. It got worse when Har-Jin would accuse Seb of being “immature” and “indecisive” about them moving in together. Sebastian began to feel like he had less and less agency in this relationship. How was that any different than what was going on at home? He thought Hae-Jin cared for him, that they belonged with each other. But he felt more and more that Hae-Jin just wanted to “have him.” No better than a pet.
Hae-Jin gave him an ultimatum “Stay with me or go back to the middle of nowhere”. He chose to go back, in his mind, better the devil you know.
Age 23 and Up
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Seb wasn’t really interested in dating after Hae-Jin. He focused on programming, his bike, and trying to stay sane as he rots away in his basement. Maybe every blue moon on one of his long bike rides, he’d make out with some stranger outside a gas station, bike shop just to… I don’t know, feel something. But that got tiring. He was tired. Tired of feeling like he had no say in anything he wanted. He had none at home, in past romances. At that point, he didn’t even know if he wanted anything.
Enter : Sai Peachtree
Thanks if you read this far!✨ I’ll be writing Sai’s soon!
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thesarcasticreader · 1 year
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PAC: YOUR NEXT ROMANTIC PARTNER
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These are general readings meant for entertainment purposes. You can partake in advice, but do not let it cloud your decision-making.
Also, this is mildly 18+. So minors, please go away and do your homework or you are failing your next paper.
I do take paid readings. You can contact me for them. Make sure you have either Paypal or Gpay! DM for the price list! (IMAGES ARE TAKEN FROM PINTEREST)
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The reading, today, has been brutally honest, to say the least. My decks are very polite, not even joking. They dish out the sweetest things. For every negative thing, they give a view into the most possible positive outcome too.
But today, it was quite different. These messages were channelled in a way that requires people to view their relationships without rose-tinted glasses. This reading might trigger you especially if you are expecting stuff like, your next partner is going to parade you and all. Nope, it is straight to the point.
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Pile 1:
April month is important for you. You are very likely to meet this person in April. Number 44 may have been popping up for you very much. This is very likely to be a karmic relationship. The person you seem to draw towards you is someone who is self-absorbed and pessimistic. For many of you, you could be taking back your ex. You do not want to have any regrets or feel like you have missed an opportunity.
The thing is, there are a lot of possibilities that you have when it comes to relationships. If anything, you are blind to the opportunities in front of you simply because you are wallowing. Not a bad thing, but there is a set amount of time you can cry over a person who is not even worth your tears. Take your time to contemplate if you want to get back into a relationship with this person. For those it doesn't resonate, choose another pile. This is a very specific pile.
Stand up for yourself and defend your corner. And the moment you do stand up for yourself, this person will try to argue and guilt you. If you are in a toxic relationship, let it go. Immediately. Do not go back to this person. End Of! You will have options and people who will help you.
This is going to be a very transformative time for you. You are in the middle of a cycle of transformation. Be assertive and dominant. You have a strong will to fight. Letting things go will help you release that burden you are carrying.
You will be anxious about finding love in the future after this relationship. It will interfere with the new beginning that is coming your way.
Be kind to yourself. You are going through tough times and for everyone that you have your kindness for, spare yourself some too. It is very rough to break cycles. And for a while, you will choose to stay single after this situation. Almost a year or so.
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Pile 2:
This is someone who is going to be a little older than you or more mature than you.
This relationship is going to begin with a little bit of jealousy and insecurity. One or both may feel that the other person is out of their league. There is a story here. If it doesn't resonate, it's cool. Don't stress about it too much.
You are going to be more focused towards your career. This is going to be a change for you because you may have been inclined towards going slow in life and settling for stuff. But there is a new opportunity for you and you just want to go for it.
This is something that you have manifested but didn't know was coming to pass.
This is a reverse of a rom-com. Instead of the girl choosing the dude, you are choosing yourself. Instead of a small town, you are going to a big city. This person will try to convince you that it can work out with you guys. This person will not be in favour of you changing locations as they may not be a big believer in the success of long-distance relationships. They are in reverse energy, they used to be very driven and now they are ready to settle.
Unfortunately, it seems like you and this person will break up over this. This is the unrequited love pile. You will part on good terms but you will be upset. You will be leaving this behind and seeking out a new life. You know that it is what suits both of you but there is a twinge of nostalgia.
Within 8 months of changing cities, you are likely to get a promotion. Politics in your workplace will be rampant. Therefore, made sure that you remain semi-professional with your co-workers. Do not gossip too much about things. It will bite you in the ass, especially if the gossip is about your boss.
You will bring a very cheerful and charismatic energy to yourself. This will attract a lot of people to you. All in all, this is more about your career than relationships.
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Pile 3:
Soon, you will be in a relationship. The timeline has been pretty vague in all the piles, but this pile is closer to their next romantic partner. This is going to be someone who is more established than you. They are very well-off.
The thing is, this person has a lot of healing to do. They will be emotionally immature. They can be carrying a lot of regrets from the past and they are baggage they have to deal with. And before you, I can fix them. Lemme stop you right there, you can't. It is not your responsibility. If you date this person, your responsibility is to support them as they face their traumas, not fix them for your person. Your boundaries are important.
In fact, you are assertive and supportive, there is a high chance of this relationship working out in your favour. Don't try to act like their therapist or a journal. Approach them like a partner. Be a problem solver.
Try not to have pointless arguments. If you date this person, do not forget yourself in the process. You two are very likely to be twin flames. But don't let the twin flame thing convince you into staying in toxic relationships. If this person isn't working on themselves, cut your losses and move. Obviously, this is a general reading so the situation may differ for all of you. However, use your best judgement. Protect yourself.
Funnily enough, it will be your friends who will help you guys pull your heads out of your asses. I do see a happy engagement with this person. You will be very proud of the growth your person will make. And they will grow to be very protective of you for everything that you have done for them. They hold you in high regard.
You will have your occasional tussles every now and then, but as you two learn and grow, this relationship will bring a lot of financial success as well. This relationship will progress really fast. Idk why J.E. Malpas' This Man came through. It is a book. Basically, UK's answer to Fifty Shades Of Grey. It is okay but unless you like smut, you will love it. Your relationship kind of feels like the one in the book.
IF YOU WANT MORE READINGS, YOU CAN CHECK MY INSTAGRAM: @A_sarcastic_Reader.
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behoright · 1 year
Text
long distance friendship with andrei svechnikov
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uhhhh here's a little blurb! yall can thank @ryanpulock for this. it was just too much and needed to be shared soooorry it's so long.
warnings: haven't really proofread this I freaked out the whole time. fluffy fluffy fluffy a tiny bit of angst.
◌ ◯ ✽◌ ◯ ✽
you met when you’re both teenagers when he began playing for the lumberjacks
he obv had a crush on you but he couldn’t really speak english
you were always around the rink and at practice and stuff bc of a family member of yours so he saw you a lot
saw you do homework and stuff at the rink and he would try and talk to you or see if you could help him with english 
you helped him A LOT bc you’d be one of the last ones there and so was he so you’d hang out a lot
but you were only teenagers and you had your own lil life at your high school and stuff
eventually he went to the OHL and it was heartbreaking for the both of you tbh
he had never been more excited to move up but the second thought he had was that he wasn’t going to see you everyday anymore
same with you but you both played it off
the last night before he leaves you hang out until late and he promises you he won’t forget or stop talking to you
“even when you make it to the nhl and become a big shot?”
“never, y/n”
sdjkfhkdjvh
and so it begins
the constant constant texting
silly snapchats and you send each other memes on instagram 
he’s too shy to ask you to facetime so he doesn’t
until draft day 
dude one of the best days of his life
and on top of that - he gets a facetime call from YOU
he makes sure his hair looks good before he answers djfksljf
you were afraid that now he would forget about you but as soon as he gets to raleigh you become even closer
he never fails to send you good morning texts and snapchats
he never sends good nights tho and thats because he never wants to stop talking to you
he’d rather tell you “i fell asleep lol” instead of saying goodbye
facetime becomes the norm on his second season w the canes
it ebbs and flows when you get a boyfriend
and tbh he says hes happy for you but hes not
and he doesn't understand why because he hasn’t seen you since you were 17 and you both had a silly teenage crush
also he has every single girl available and sometimes he’d tell you about it to see if you get jealous but you don’t seem to (even though you do)
he knows he has to find another way to distract himself now that you have a boyfriend you can’t facetime him as much
gets a girlfriend 
but things turn sour faster than he expected
if you’re having any relationship problems you always tell him and so he does too
it doesn’t get very far tho because the only advice you both have for each other is 
“break up with him”
“break up with her”
and you’re both too stupid to see what’s really going on but the distance doesn’t help
you finally decide to see each other during the summer and you meet each other’s significant others and 
oh boy
she HATES your guts and she’s so condescending
“oH mY gOd iS thIs yOuR bEsTiE bAbE? OH yOu’Re sOOOOO cUTe!”
ugh
same with him 
andrei is surrounded by toxic relationships and unfortunately toxic masculinity so he sees right through your boyfriend
he tells you after
“I don’t trust him, y/n”
you don’t know but its the beginning of the end for both of your relationships
after that, you both spend a week of his summer together before he goes to train in russian and its 
so fun
except for the fact that your horrible partners are both always there so you both feel like you can’t relax bc they’d get insecure
at the end of the summer he breaks up with her bc he seriously cannot shake off how she treated you and also bc she was just not it
and surprise surprise your boyfriend cheats on you during the fall
you call him in hysterics crying sobbing
youve been friends for a long time and know each other very well but he’s actually never seen you cry
he just sits and listens to you talk and vent makes sure you feel really validated
you stay on facetime for a long long time that night even if he has a game tomorrow
and the day after he calls you while he’s driving to the arena
you’re in bed with your blinds shut even though its 3 pm 
“I going to score for you tonight, you’ll see. Trust me.”
and score he does
he tries to find the camera as soon as he scores and everyone including his teammates are like ???
but he winks at it and points at it 
you know its for you
calls you AS SOON AS THE GAME IS OVER
“you see? I told you! I told you I’d do it for you!”
and thats when you realize you really like this man
you call and text even more somehow
facetime all the time 
the season has its highs and lows and 
on most roadies he can’t wait to just get to his hotel room to talk to you
he tells you whenever he’s taking off or landing
you’ll send him snaps of you watching the game whether alone or with your friends 
you literally never miss one
you share locations at some point and he will never say it but he checks on you all the time
breaks his heart a little when he sees you’re over at someone’s house 
same with you wherever he’s at a club or something but oh well
you’re just friends and have to live your lives
but still no one takes up as much time as you do
even if its for 5-10 minutes he’d facetime you
your roommate thinks its fucking annoying that you stay up so late just talking
and what a cute texter he is
“good luck on your test!”
“i saw this and i thought of you”
sdkjfhksjfhskdjchksd
he ships one of his jerseys to your dorm 
anytime there’s a limited edition piece of merch he’ll always send you one
on your birthday he sends you matching beaded bRACELETS
and you see he always always wears it
theres a point where the season gets freaking hard and andrei is so frustrated
you answer the phone but it looks like it’s just been placed on the nightstand
“Drei?”
“hi, y/n”
and his voice is all choked up and sniffly
“I want to talk to you but I’m just. I’m so tired and I can’t take it today. I’m sorry” and there’s a little sob in there
you reassure him and eventually he opens up 
even though he can’t show his face because he’s embarrassed and he doesn’t want you to see him like this
“to be honest, it’s so lonely. I feel alone in the room at the end of the day and I feel guilty because this is my dream.”
you talk him through what he’s feeling and how to feel better
he grabs the phone and you see his face all red and puffy. you can tell he was crying really hard before he called you
“I’m sorry I look so bad” he says as he rubs his eyes and his face HELLA HARD bc he’s a boy
“You look great, svech” 
And his heart melts oh it melts so hard
You don’t tell him but you saved up enough to fly out and one day you just show up at practice 
Thankfully he was too busy to check your location lol
He’s ELATED
literally drops his stick and gloves and just skates towards you so fast
“Oh so this is who you’re texting all the time”
You spend the weekend together 
He cancels your hotel stay so you can stay with him 
He loves to have you around and debates kissing you when you go out with the team
But he’s too nervy so he doesn’t 
When he drops you off at the airport he tears up a bit and hugs you for a long long time 
“I going to miss you, that’s all”
“I love you”
Calls you after you’re past security lol
He tells you he wants you to come out every weekend
And you both laugh but he’s low key serious 
Ever since you went to visit him last you both say I love you ALL the time
Whenever they play in your city he comes and visit you 
He accidentally stays in your dorm once you guys cuddle and fall asleep talking 
No matter the distance you become closer and closer 
See each other for the holidays :)
Still no one is making any moves even though you are VERY touchy 
And tbh neither of you seeing anyone else bc you’re both so busy w your jobs/college
It’s so easy to talk to each other bc it’s all online 
No one uses snap anymore so he’d just send you selfies 😭😭
Sometimes when he’s reviewing video he’d FaceTime you to just have you there
Same whenever you’re just doing homework 
There’s been times that he’s at the rink late and you’re doing school work late and he just props his phone up while you both do your thing even though he’s ON THE ICE
Keeps his AirPods in so he can hear you talk to him 
You have movie nights together and do screen sharing
You decide to surprise him bc you have some 
Big news 
And he’s been in a HUGE scoring drought 
You know it’s taking a toll on him bc he literally tells you everything 
Every SINGLE thing
You surprise him when he’s doing morning workout w the team
They let you in because everyone knows you now he doesn’t shut up about you shows them pics of you always on the phone 
And he’s SWEATY but he runs to you and picks you up in a big bear hug spins you around 
He’s so so happy he really needed this especially after you guys talked SO much during the dads trip (since his dad couldn’t make it and all) 
He keeps looking for you in the stands and during warm up just keeps skating past you and tapping the glass and puts his face up to it and shfhfjxbdchfjbfdn
he gets out of his scoring drought SO quickly in the 1st
Scores twice, is on hatty watch, has the best game ever
Whenever he’s on the bench he thinks about how he got his mojo back literally the day you got to Raleigh
Like this has to do with you
*superstition unlocked*
Gets first star and skates up to you to bang on the glass before throwing the puck to some kids next to you
Mouths “go to the locker room” before skating to Hannah
When you go see him he’s all sweaty and gross and shirtless, his hockey pants still on and all 
“You did so good! You did amazing, Andrei!” 
He runs and hugs you so tightly into his chest 
whispers into your hair
“because of you. It happened because of you.” 
before giving you the game puck 
What he doesn’t know yet is that you came to visit to tell him that you got into an internship in Raleigh and will be moving there in a couple of months 👀👀
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spideystevie · 1 year
Text
strike-outs
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summary: rust colored dirt, old jerseys & game winning strike-outs
word count: 2.3k
a/n: this has been brewing in the depths of my drafts for a hot minute. college!au because i said so. this is my take on baseball!steve who lives and breathes in my head constantly and if you don’t agree then cry about it. just kidding. 
MARCH 1987 - GRAND RAPIDS, MI.
It’s an unusually warm day for Michigan in March. The sky’s a vibrant blue with picturesque cottony clouds scattered across. Sun rays warm your cheeks, a welcoming kiss after last week’s frigid cold. You roll up the sleeves of your university crewnecks to feel the sun on your arms. 
Music flows through the orange padding of your headphones, walkman clipped to the waist of your jeans. You walk past the baseball field, eyes focusing in on the lone figure standing on the pitcher’s mound. It’d be almost embarrassing to admit that you recognize it to be Steve Harrington almost immediately. 
Your feet stall, rooting you in place near the third base dugout as you watch him wind up and throw. The ball hits the ground and ricochets against the fence behind home plate. There’s a ringing of metal as the chain link fence reverberates. The ball rolls back towards home plate, stopping just a foot away from a worn pair of cleats, covered in a rust colored dust. 
Davenport might not have been Steve’s first choice but it was the one that put the most distance between him and his father and that was good enough for him. It was also the only school that took a chance on a small town kid with shit grades so Steve really couldn’t complain. 
Steve bends to pick the ball up and when he turns to walk back to the mound, he notices you. Your eyes meet just as Let’s Hear It For The Boy starts to play. A heat not induced by the sun creeps across your cheeks. It only worsens when a charming grin lifts his cheeks. 
The two of you stare for a beat too long before someone breaks the silence. 
“Hey,” he calls, walking towards the fence that separates the two of you. You step closer, pulling your headphones to rest around your neck. Steve catches a few notes of the song before you pause it. The toes of his cleats bump the bottom of the fence, the metal shaking briefly. 
Steve pulls his glove off, shoving the ball inside and tucking it under his left arm. His fingers curl around the holes in the fence. You take a step forward, one more and you’d hit the fence too. His smile softens around the edges this close up. 
“Hey,” he exhales. His gaze makes you feel warmer than the sun. Your smile is the slightest bit reserved, tucked away just slightly towards your chest. 
“Hi,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest. You wonder if you hold yourself tight enough if it’ll suffocate the butterflies swarming your heart. 
Things with Steve are new and covered in the sweetness of the early days. Everything is fresh and new, like a springtime blossom. The shock that sparks both your nerves when you’re around each other is not. 
You’d been partnered for a project together in sociology in the fall and when the semester ended, you didn’t think you’d see him again aside from passing occasionally on your commutes to class. 
And then you walked into your history course this spring and thought you were hallucinating when you spotted him. You thought you’d collapse when he waved you over to sit in the empty seat next to him. You nearly did when he asked you out a week later. 
It’d been a couple months of dating exclusively, not even a week since he asked you to be his. And yet, he still hadn’t kissed you. It’s not that he hasn’t tried, it’s that every time his lips brush against yours something has to interrupt the moment. Steve’s determined to change that today.
“Thought you didn’t have practice today,” you muse, blinking at Steve through the fence. 
“Coach wants to try me out as pitcher this season. Thought I’d start practicing now,” he shrugs and lets go of the fence, dropping his shoulder to lean against it. The fence bulges towards you. The sunlight catches on a curl of hair sneaking out of his hat. You have to grip your arm to resist reaching out to tuck it behind his ear. 
“Look at you, all star,” you tease. Steve’s cheeks flush a soft shade of pink, hardly discernible in the shade that covers his face from the brim of his hat. You shuffle forward until the toes of your converse bump the fence separating you. “You ever pitched before?”
“Little league,” he laughs. The way it bubbles out of him makes you giggle along, the shoulder opposite to his leaning against the fence. He shakes his head. “Once or twice in high school, too.”
You hum, smile still present but eyes rounding into something more serious. “You’ll do great.”
It’s a reassuring hug around Steve’s heart, one that constricts itself around the muscle until it skips a beat. He softens like butter in the sun and he lifts a hand to clutch the fence near your head.
There’s a tenderness in the way he looks at you, in the way his fingers try their best to wrap around yours when you lift your own hand to clutch the fence. You don’t think about all the logistics behind kissing between a hole in a chain link fence, the only things running through your head being finally and a mantra of SteveSteveSteve. 
Your chin juts out, tilted up for him to reach and Steve wishes he were on the other side of the fence so he could hold your face in the palm of his hand. He gets a hair's width away from your lips when the sprinkler system kicks on making you jolt back. He really wishes he were on the other side of the fence now.  
You try not to look too disappointed as you step back from the fence, though you’re sure you’re not alone in your emotions. Steve looks almost apologetic, his smile sheepish. 
“I’ll catch you later?” he offers, stepping back from the fence himself. You nod, reaching up to pull your headphones back over your ears. 
“You better, Harrington,” you say, clicking play again on your walkman as you turn on your heel and leave back to your dorm. Steve’s eyes follow you until you disappear from view. 
APRIL 1987 - HOME.
The glimpse of warmth you’d felt in March seems to have vanished into a haze. The weather had backpedaled to an early spring cold. If you focused hard enough, you could see wisps of your breath in front of your face when you’d exhale. First home game. Steve’s first game this season as a pitcher. 
The cold metal of the bleachers seeps through the denim of your jeans, your knee bouncing anxiously. It’d been a little over a week since your last almost kiss with Steve. With the flurry of late midterms and the opening of baseball season, you hadn’t seen much of Steve outside of your shared morning history class. 
He made sure he caught you yesterday. He waited outside the door of your Thursday literature class, already dressed for practice and cutting it close to being late, all just to ask you if you wanted to wear his jersey to the first game of the season. It was worth it when he saw your eyes light up, hands clutching the old jersey to your chest. He’d kissed your cheek before running off. 
Sitting in the stands, wearing his last name on your back, you think you can still feel the lingering warmth of his lips against your cheek while you watch him warm up. The slight wind is icy, biting at your nose and leaving it with a burning numbness. You tug the sleeves of your thick long sleeve you’d layered beneath the jersey over your fists. 
It’s easy to forget about the near frigid cold when you watch Steve play. It doesn’t hurt that his uniform pants hug him in the best way as he winds up his pitches and runs the bases. You’re not sure how much prouder you can get of Steve, watching him throw strike after strike. 
Your team sits at a tie with the visiting team as the ninth inning rolls around. With two outs and bases loaded, the nerves start to eat at you and you can’t begin to imagine the pressure on Steve. You clasp your hands in front of you, thumbs pressed to your lips. 
Steve closes his eyes and takes a breath before starting his wind up. He hauls a pitch down the line, exhales when it sinks into the catcher’s mitt and the umpire calls it a strike. He steps forward, glove extended to catch the ball when the catcher tosses it back. 
You squeeze your hands together, whispering encouragement under your breath as though he can hear it from your spot in the stands. He winds up and throws, sinking another strike in the catcher’s mitt. You exhale, watching Steve shake out his shoulders as he walks back towards the mound. 
“One more, baby, one more,” you mutter under your breath, not caring if the people sitting around you can hear you. Steve pauses at the top and looks towards the stands to find you. When your eyes meet you nod, releasing your clasped hands momentarily to give him a thumbs up. He bites back a smile, dipping his head down towards the ground as he gets ready to pitch. 
You feel like everything moves in slow motion the moment he starts his wind up. The ball leaves his fingertips and seems to float down the line. This time, the batter swings and you watch with bated breath as it swings just above the ball and misses it completely. Everything syncs back to normal with the final smack of the ball meeting the glove and the umpire calling the final strike. 
Steve’s shoulders visibly droop in relief, his teammates clapping him on the back and cheering as they head towards the dugout to prep for their final turn at bat. His eyes find you, standing in the stands with a grin on your face before he’s ushered into the dugout. 
It’s Steve who bats first at the bottom of the ninth, blowing a kiss to you before stepping up to bat. He swings at the first pitch, a satisfying crack sounding when his bat makes contact with the ball, sending it out into far left field. He slides safe into second, bouncing up onto his feet with a smile. 
Steve steals third after the first out, daring a glance at you in the stands to send a smile your way and crosses home plate with a grin, securing the first home game win of the season. He can’t even seem to care about the rest of the inning, his main thought being you standing in the crowd wearing his jersey and the proudest smile he’d ever seen. 
You wait outside the dugout when the game ends, a giddiness coursing through you. As the team starts to file off the field, you stretch on your toes to find Steve. He comes out last and his eyes immediately find you. He barely has time to drop his bag to the ground before you’re hurling yourself at him. 
His arms catch you around your waist while yours wrap around his neck. You press your nose against his neck, only minutely aware of how sweaty he is despite the chill in the air. 
“You were amazing out there, all star,” you grin as you settle onto your feet. Your hands rest against the front of his jersey but his hold around your waist stays tight. Steve’s smile is blinding. 
“You think so?” his voice is teasing and you roll your eyes but the smile hasn’t left your face. You push against his chest playfully and a laugh bubbles out of Steve.
“I’m proud of you,” you say, sincerity dripping off each word. Something inside Steve’s chest melts down into a thick honey, warming him from the inside out. He doesn’t even think twice before he’s cupping your face in his hands and slotting his lips against yours. 
Your eyes close with a muffled sigh, hands sliding up to rest against the sides of Steve’s neck. Your mind is racing with thoughts of  finally and SteveSteveSteve. He kisses you soft and tender, like he has all the time in the world. For once there’s no sprinklers, no pesky roommates or annoying teammates. There’s nothing else except the small bubble surrounding the two of you in the frigid cold of early spring. 
Steve pulls back for a breath and his lips part to say something. You don’t let him get the chance. 
“Shh, one more, I’ve been waiting to do this for weeks,” you pull him back into you, lips molding with his like they were carved from the same stone, missing puzzle pieces fitting back into place. His hands fall to your waist and pull you closer against him. You kiss him with a fervor until it’s more smile than kiss and you have to pull back. 
Your cheeks hurt from smiling. A slight gust of wind pushes past but you can’t feel the cold, not after the searing heat that’s covered your skin from the minute his lips touched yours. Steve kisses you once more, sweet and chaste before squeezing your waist and stepping away to grab his bag. 
“Celebratory dinner?” he offers, slinging his baseball bag over his shoulder and wrapping his free arm around your shoulders. He pulls his hat off his head and runs a hand through his hair as you walk. 
“Maybe after you shower, you’re all gross,” you scrunch your nose at him, mirth twinkles in your eyes. Steve shakes his head and shoves his hat onto yours. You grin, leaning into him as he squeezes your shoulders.
He wonders if it’s too early to be thinking he might be in love with you. 
244 notes · View notes
yakulin · 4 months
Text
Out of touch
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a/n: Im freezing. I want to write more csm stuff like omg I love it sm, and I also love angst but sometimes I have such a hard time making my words make sense (it’s the ESL in me)
prompt: Your sister died under a devil attack during school, your new partner Aki attempts to help your grieving
cw: cigarette use, death, not proofread
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You and Aki had became devil hunters around the same time. Expecting to be each others partners until he had been assigned to Himeno. You got assigned with someone else not long after him.
Over the years the both of you could notice the innocence slowly leaving, no longer the same cheery kids the two of you first met. The last sparkle in your eyes gone when your partner died tragically.
This was around the time Himeno died as well. On the bright side you got partnered with the familiar raven haired boy you had met as a kid. Both grieving, tired, and done with all the devils bullshit.
Months had passed since the two of you had been assigned as partners. He introduced you to smoking through the months, informing you that Himeno was the one that introduced him to it when they where first partnered.
“I’m sorry for your loss..” someone spoke up. They had notified you and Aki about a devil attack at a local school, and you hoped and prayed it wasn’t the one you thought of. Prayers had landed on deaf ears, like always.
“it’s fine” she said coldly, avoiding eye contact with her coworkers as she walked off towards the outside of the building. Aki walked not far behind her. Throughout the time they had been partnered together he learned a lot about her. She always put up a cheery warm front, yet every time after they finished a mission she’d have a hard time finding that persona in her. She was a sensitive person, no matter how much she hated confessing it.
Aki walked outside the building, seeing her lighting up a cigarette. Her eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. I slowly walked up to her, stealing a cigar from her pack as I used her lighter as well. She’d usually give me a glare but today she kept her eyes staring at the ground. “Guess you won’t mind if I keep the whole pack” he said sarcastically, awaiting a response. Nothing.
She continued to smoke, a single tear leaving her eyes. She quickly wiped it away. I turned my attention towards the sky. “You can cry, you know that right?” I reminded. “I know..” she responded shakily. “Why don’t you then?” I questioned. “It’s stupid” her responses were short, i could tell she was on the verge of tears. “It’s normal” I spoke up.
I noticed the shaky grip on her cigar, I lit my own out before taking ahold of hers. Keeping it a safe distance from the both of us as I hugged her closely. Her body was tense. “I don’t judge. Why would I?.. it’s just crying, everyone cried from time to time, just let it out” I whispered to her as I rubbed her back with my free hand.
I felt her trying to push herself from me for a moment, she was hesitant. “I should’ve never allowed her to go to a school near the agency.. I knew something would happen! I knew it! And now.. now she’s gone” she said frustrated. “I’m tired, of loosing the people I love” she said in such a broken tone.
I understood how she felt, I lost my family and ex partner. “I know.. this job is dehumanizing” I whispered, “honestly.. not worth the money anymore” she said wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “Never was” I responded, she looked at me with her teary red eyes. “You’re right”
She let out a shaky breath, “after my partner died. It finally woke me after years of being in this agency. Why did I join?” She questioned herself, “My memory’s are so scrambled..” she mumbled, “whatever it was, surely it isn’t worth this” she added looking down at my hand that held her cigar.
“Careful” she warned, I looked down at my hand. The fire was close to my hand as it began to shrink, I quickly unlit it on the ashtray atop of a trash can.
“Stop trying to run away from your problems” I spoke up. “You’ve been avoiding the problem this whole conversation” I added. She looked at me guilty. “Don’t tell me because I’m telling you to, do it when you’re ready. Doesn’t even have to be me, just don’t always run to your pack of cigars for comfort” he said, his hand gently laying on her cheek as he wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Understand?”
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jellyfish3s · 5 months
Text
how destiny's child emotion and killugon are post-separation parallels; a very, very long analysis i wrote in 2h
hi! im danaë, an autistic person which sp-in is psychology and hxh, mainly killugon. i spent two hours yesterday writing about this topic instead of sleeping so enjoy it lol
WARNING!! if you didn't notice THEY'RE LOVE INTERESTS. this text isn't killugon-free, im proud of it AND im blocking everyone that cries about them being only besties. respectfully, no. thank you. (also, english isn't my first language. sorry for any eventual spelling mistakes!)
right on the first verse we hear "it's over and done / but the heartache lives on the inside / and who are you clinging to instead of me tonight?". this could apply to both gon and killua.
gon & "and who are you clinging to instead of me tonight?". killua left with alluka, he has someone to care about and protect. he has company. gon isn't the type to be jealous of a little girl (really, people need to wake up about it. he isn't), but he IS the type to be sad about not being cared even if he denies it. he's a kid; every kid likes to feel protected.
but the thing is, killua isn't happy about it neither. even if he loves to protect alluka, it's different. he loves her, of course, but there's the lack of the warmth of being mutually cared because gon ALSO cared about his well-being (and im fighting everyone who says he didn't). im not saying alluka won't care for killua, but she'll care like a little sister does, not how someone that love you romantically does — and that's good because killua would NOT be able to make it if anyone tried to be the tiniest bit of what gon was when they parted ways.
and then comes this: "and where are you now? / now that I need you? / tears on my pillow / wherever you go, go". oh, dude. this is so killugon i feel ashamed of trying to explain to hxh community /hj
they both were constantly hurting from being away, even though this was the best for them at the time. they wanted each other to be near, wanted and needed, but they couldn't. there is this thin and fragile veil of deep sorrow that would make them get so attached to the other that would be more sickening than the sadness of losing their "other piece" for a while. it's more worth crying over memories than losing their mind from being deadly (metaphorically and literally) codependent.
this links to the next phrase: "i'll cry me a river that leads to your ocean". crying alone is more safe than being next to each other. they'll cry over memories, as i said, and they'll cry about distance and they'll cry over everything that could've been different. they'll find the other in their tears, the hugs will come out of the bittersweet sorrow they carry around, but they'll be separated. they can cry rivers that lead to a valley of what it was and what could've been, but it'll be all. the sadness won't make them be together again.
there comes killua part: "you'll never see me fall apart". he needs to be the big brother now. he need to be alluka's point of safety so he can assure their existence, and for this killua needs to be strong as a rock, he needs alluka to look at him and think she can trust him with anything. he's the big brother, isn't he? emotions about a past that doesn't belong to him anymore aren't going to help with surviving. but he does break silently, while he is trying to sleep ("tears on my pillow"), when something looks to much like a typically gon thing, when memories crawl in. he's just a fragile boy needing to use the super strong hero facade again.
the first part of the next verse is "in the words of a broken heart / it's just emotions taking me over / caught up in sorrow, lost in the song / but if you don't come back / come home to me, darling". this is suffering. both of them are heartbroken, left "alone" to face worlds they feel they don't belong to anymore, wanting their partner in crime to make things less insufferable. they remember the other on daily little things — a song, a quote, a smell. but killua never comes to visit and gon isn't able to do it either — there's no home left besides each other's hearts, and they live there rent-free even if it hurts like hell. memories hurt, the past is like glass and salt being poured into an open wound to later be mixed with alcohol, but they aren't able to say goodbye to it because saying goodbye to the pain is like saying goodbye to the last tangible thing they've from each other — ironically, the pain of being separated —, and the last thing they want is to say goodbye again so they hold it close to their hearts like a trophy.
but as if they're bargaining, here comes "don't you know there's nobody left in this world to hold me tight? / and don't you know there's nobody left in this world kiss goodnight?". there's people, but there's nothing of what they need. they need someone that knows how to make them feel safe, loved, safe — nor alluka or mito can do this for neither gon or killua the way they need it to be done. they try to, but they can't because the type of sadness they're carrying is exclusively from a love that never had a true end; they parted ways, but never stopped loving each other even if their trust was a little bit weaker, and carrying a love that is technically in open hurts so much that no one can try to mimic how it was. a tight hug from mito or alluka won't be the same of a silly headpat from killua or a bright smile from gon because isn't about the act but who's doing it.
and then we've the last verse before the music repeats itself, that i truly believe that wraps up everything in killugon's love story: "i'm there at your side / a part of all the things you are / but you got a part of someone else / you gotta go find your shining star".
gon wanted to find ging and be back at whale's island; killua had to protect alluka. they felt so much love, but they had other people in their lives too that needed to be looked over. even if their story is forever intertwined at some point, both of them are mix of a lot of people and have small amounts of them inside themselves. this is what makes it a tiny little bit easier to go through not having each other near: other people. the tiny pieces of every person they've ever met that created their personality and their new horizons are what eventually make them heal from all the suffering and sorrow and finally be able to reunite again, friendship strong and a love so healthy like a daisy that just blossomed.
they're forever in love. the distance and the sadness was necessary for them to see that things can be hard to handle alone, but they're never alone as they have other people that care for them deeply and are willing to see them fully happy — just as in emotion's music video. when they learn to be complete by themselves, they can multiply together and form a relationship that adds up, not that is dangerously subtracting their mental health. they deserve to love each other when they're ready. ♡
end of the analysis. thx for reading this bible i wrote in 2h lol
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writer-in-theory · 1 year
Text
California Dreamin' — harringrove.
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Summary: When Steve goes on his dream road trip to California alone, he finds the unlikeliest of ghosts in a tattoo shop. Prompt: B1 - Tattoo Shop // A2 - Reunion Pairing: Bottom!Steve Harrington/Top!Billy Hargrove Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10.7k Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Canon-Typical Violence, Discussions of Trauma (canon-based), Needles (tattoos), Emotional Smut, Implied Unprotected Sex, Anal Sex, Scar Worship, Non-Graphic Smut, Insecurities Read On AO3: HereA/N: This is another fill for @harringroveson-bingo and @billyhargrovebingo !! This was meant to be a short lil fluff fic but ended up being angst and smut, so here we are. Huge thanks to @serenity-lattes for cheering me on and beta-reading through this whole thing (and coming up with the tattoo shop name!). Also many apologies for making @lcvingprentjss cry.
Harringroveson Bingo Masterlist // Billy Hargrove Bingo Masterlist
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Steve was 10 miles from his destination when he saw the shop. It was a smaller building, nestled between a record shop and coffee shop that looked designed for people more academically inclined than he’d ever been. It wasn’t trying to be anything it wasn’t—no flashing lights or intense neons that decorated every other building he’d driven past that night. Maybe that was what had drawn Steve to the tattoo shop on the corner of West Eleventh and Park, the simplicity of the ‘Valhalla Ink’ sign above the door. 
Already he could hear the wild screams from Robin and Eddie when they inevitably saw his tattoo, maybe by that point it would already be healed up and slightly faded from time. Nancy would be told about it by Robin, and she’d shake her head and talk all night about how much he’d changed from the Steve Harrington she’d known in school.
As if none of them had changed after what happened, after what they’d lost. 
That was it then, Steve decided if only to divert his mind away from what had long since been over. He found the nearest street parking, offering the Beemer his ritualistic thank you for surviving the trip thus far, and set off to the shop. When Steve had pictured himself making this trip, it had always been in an RV with too many kids to keep track of and a loving partner who made it all worthwhile. Still, when he’d woken in Hawkins one Thursday to realize he was well and truly the only one left, he couldn’t help but pack a measly bag of supplies and hop into his car without any real plan to guide him. All he knew was that he’d end on the beaches of San Diego, his one true dream destination.
“We could make it, you know.”
“Where, San Diego? Get real.”
“No, I’m serious. After the summer, we could get out of here. I’ll take what I can from my parents, we’ll get in your car, and we’ll go. You could show me the beach.”
“You’ve seen the beach.”
“I haven’t seen your beach.”
Tattoo shops. Beemers on their last legs. Shitty road motels with the kinds of beds he didn’t really want to think about too closely. Tattoo shops.
Steve was getting a tattoo, and then he’d find someplace to sleep, and then he’d deal with the beach tomorrow when his mind had time to recover from the drive. He could handle that much right now, he knew he could. 
The shop was even more picturesque inside. There were chairs and machines, sure, but there were also worn surfboards hanging on the walls and old records tacked up alongside them. They were bands Steve never listened to on purpose unless he wanted to harm himself with the memories, though seeing them treated like art in this way made something warm wrap around his heart. He would have liked that. Or maybe He would have called it pretentious, snickering at Steve for trying to get a tattoo when everyone knows it wouldn’t really fit in with his style.
Who the fuck knows anymore.
“Hey, we’re about to close!” a voice called from a distance away. There was a door open in the back of the shop, maybe it was from there. “I don’t have time to start anyth—”
Steve Harrington must have died on the trip. He must have gotten into an accident on the way and his friends were being told because there was no fucking way this was happening right now. The man looked different—older than he’d ever been allowed to be, with shorter hair than Steve had ever seen him with. It was long enough to still show off those curls, one lone corkscrew hanging into his face and obscuring a part of those familiar blue eyes, now filled with far less anger than they once had been. He was in a t-shirt, exposing all of the tattoos he’d never gotten to get before but had always talked about, along with several white scars that trailed his skin like veins. He was different, but no amount of years between them would ever let Steve forget him.
“Billy?” Steve whispered, like speaking anything louder might make this ghost disappear.
He’s sure Billy didn’t hear him—there was no way he could’ve with the amount of distance between them now—but the other man still jerked back like he’d been hit. 
“What are you doing here?” Billy Hargrove—Billy fucking Hargrove—asked, and the sound of his voice alone was enough to gather tears in Steve’s eyes. 
He thought he’d lost all right to hear it again.
“I’m—” Steve began, though cut himself off quickly after noticing the expression on Billy’s face. He wasn’t crying. No, his blue eyes were clear and looking side to side, categorizing every door in the building. He stood light on his feet, every muscle tensed like he was ready to run the second any of it got to be too much for him. Steve had a million questions, ‘how are you alive?’ being the chief one, but all he could do was sigh, press a smile into his face like a cookie cutter, and say, “To get a tattoo. I can come back tomorrow though, if you’re closing. Or never, if that’s what you want too. I don’t, I don’t...whatever you want.”
Billy looked like he was going to tell him to get out. He opened his mouth, eyes alight with the same kind of fire that had once gotten Steve laid out on the floor of Joyce Byers’s kitchen, but then he closed it all too suddenly, fire dimming with the kind of resigned hopelessness that Steve had grown accustomed to in his own mind.
“Have a design in mind, Harrington?” 
“Uh, no, no I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Steve admitted, feeling his cheeks burn pink. 
When Billy laughed, it felt like everything would be okay. Not hearing it for six years had nestled something deep and immovable in Steve’s chest, but he felt it nudge away as the room filled with that sound again. It was still as odd and wondrous as ever—Billy’s chin tipping back with the force of it, a punch of sound like he’d been fighting the release of such a happy noise.
“You haven’t changed, have you?” Steve wanted to scream that he had. He wanted to grab Billy by the shoulders and shake him until he saw the kind of changes he’d been forced through. Before Dustin left for college, he’d called him tired, old. Even before that, when Robin was sitting in Nancy’s car ready to follow her around the world if the other woman asked, she’d cried over how worn out he’d seemed. Withering, Steve thought to himself, he was withering. 
Steve only shrugged, but that seemed to be a good enough answer as any because Billy waved him over to the desk where a notebook and pen rested between them. This was the closest they’d been since....well, since. Closer, Steve could see the scars didn’t stop at his arms. They continued down Billy’s hands, to wrap around each finger like marionette strings. He supposed that’s what Billy had been at the end, or what he’d always thought had been the end, a puppet.
“We had a funeral,” Steve whispered then, unable to stop them up even when he tried.
“Steve,” Billy warned, fingers gripping the pen tightly like a lifeline.
Still, against Steve’s better judgment, he pressed. “Robin, Max, Lucas, and I. We had a funeral. A real one, not the bullshit your dad se—” 
“Steve!” Billy shouted, other hand smacking down on the counter loud enough to make Steve jump back. The anger faded quickly, disappearing somewhere past the scars both new and old Billy carried with him. “What kind of design were you thinking of?”
Right, tattoos. He was here for a tattoo.
“I don’t know,” Steve admitted. “I told you, this wasn’t in the plan.”
“Do you trust me?” Billy asked. 
To the ends of the Earth, to where no one has ever gone before, with every breath Steve had left.
“Sure, I trust you.”
It was awkward in ways Steve didn’t think was possible, watching Billy design. The other man kept the page close to him, arm wrapping around it to conceal the design from Steve’s view while he worked. He mostly didn’t talk, leaving Steve to focus on the scratch of the pen on cheap paper and the way Billy’s tongue still poked out of his mouth when he was concentrating. 
Eventually, Steve wandered. Billy looked up at him once, but when he never said anything Steve took it as permission to continue. He walked around the perimeter of the large room, taking in each bit of covered space on the wall. The surfboards were all signed, some with Billy’s name—or rather, first name. Steve didn’t recognize the last name—and others with names Steve didn’t have any chance at recognizing.  There was a shelf of cassette tapes in the back, where all of the chairs and benches were. Most were bands he would’ve crinkled his nose at years ago.
“You could at least try to woo me with some better music.”
“The hell are you talking about? I’ve already wooed you, Pretty Boy.”
There was one, however, that stuck out to Steve. It was in the middle of the pack but there may as well have been a spotlight on it with the way it drew his eyes. He plucked it off the shelf, opening the case to make sure his heart was on the right track. Sure enough, in the little corner of the inside cover rested his own handwriting. SH, ‘83. 
“You have my Tears For Fears tape?” he asked, spinning around to hold it up for Billy to see. 
“They found it in my car,” Billy answered quickly, eyes looking back down to his notepad. That elicited more questions than it did provide answers, but Steve knew better by now than to push.
“I would’ve hoped my music taste rubbed off on you a little more, but, I guess this works,” Steve teased, popping the tape into the player before returning to the counter. “Figured something out?”
“You know, normally clients come in with ideas. They don’t expect me to come up with the perfect tat for them on the first try,” Billy said, his eyes never once leaving the page.
“Well I’m not any normal client, now am I?” Steve said quickly, leaning over to see it and jumping only a little when Billy’s hands smacked down to shield the page from view. “C’mon, Billy, I wanna see it!”
“Whiny brat,” Billy hissed, catching even himself off-guard for long enough for Steve to grab his hands and move them away from the page. Steve nearly gasped when he saw the drawing, fingers instinctively moving to brush over the pen strokes. Billy drew a bat, adorned with familiar nails through the barrel. Around it was a crown fit for a king, wrapped around each other like Steve’s very own coat of arms. 
“It’s perfect,” Steve told him, “that’s what I want.”
“Good, I wasn’t gonna redraw it,” Billy said, motioning for Steve to sit in one of the chairs while he disappeared into the back room he’d been in when Steve had first walked in. 
This was really happening. There was still time to leave, to tell Billy he was actually joking and they could go grab coffee to catch up instead of stabbing a needle repeatedly into Steve’s skin. But the tattoo was perfect, and no one would ever expect it from dethroned ex-jock Steve Harrington. 
It felt a little like a blur, having Billy so close. While Billy readied the machine and slipped on black nitrile gloves, Steve stared. There was no way the other man didn’t notice, but Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he could think about was the fact that Billy was here, now, and not in the grave they’d abandoned him in six years ago. 
The needle hurt on his forearm, but it was the kind of hurt Steve could deal with. It wasn’t cruel Russian fists or suffocating demobat tails, or even the deep devastating hurt from losing—
It was the bearable kind of hurt.
“Most guys whine like babies for their first ones,” Billy spoke up, eyes still focused on what he was doing. Needle, wipe. Needle, wipe. “You take the pain like a champ.”
I always did. “I think Robin would say that’s not a good thing,” Steve laughed, lightly so as to not jostle his arm under the pen.
“You keep talking about her like I know who that is.”
Right. Fuck, so much had changed in his life that Steve hadn’t gotten to tell him about.
“Do you remember my dorky coworker from Scoops?” Steve asked.
“The one with the You Suck board?”
“I seem to remember there being a You Rule, too, but yeah,” Steve answered, rolling his eyes at what bits and pieces Billy had remembered. “We’re friends now. Best friends, actually. She was there, that night. I know it was a lot and you probably don’t remember any of it, but she was there. She was there for me after too, when I couldn’t really tell everyone about…us.”
Billy was quiet for a while, the only sound in the building being the continual hum of the pen as he dragged it over Steve��s skin. Just when Steve was about to bring up another topic, Billy spoke again. “I remember it.”
“That night?” Steve asked tentatively, watching with nothing but uncertainty as Billy rested the pen back on the cart beside him. 
“I remember all of it,” Billy admitted, blue eyes meeting Steve’s hazel. “I wasn’t in control, but I was there. Watching, feeling...everything.”
Billy knelt over El, so far from Steve he couldn’t make out the minute changes in either one’s expressions. All he saw was the moment Billy stood up, yelling and reaching out toward the monster in defense of the girl. The moment Billy caught one of the monster’s arms with both of his own, Steve knew. He knew.
“Billy!” Steve screamed, throat feeling like it had torn to shreds. “Billy, no!”
“I thought you died,” Steve spoke again, daring to bring it up now that Billy couldn’t leave. He needed to know, needed some kind of explanation for how they were together now. Steve had felt Billy’s heart stutter to a stop on the floor of the Starcourt Mall six years ago. “They said there wasn’t a b—That there wasn’t anything to bu—they said there wasn’t anything left.”
“I did die, I think,” Billy answered. “That’s what the fuckers told me.”
“How did you end up here?” Billy ignored the question for a while, picking up the needle pen again and setting to work. “Billy.”
“It’s old news, okay?” Billy sighed out, fingers tightening against Steve’s arm.
“It’s not old to me,” Steve whispered out, wincing as he caught what was playing on the tape. 
Memories fade but the scars still linger, goodbye my friend. Will I ever love again?
“It’s not old to me, Billy,” Steve pressed, more insistent now as his confidence burned brighter and brighter. He’d missed how he’d felt around Billy—like he was made of starstuff, untouchable against the very worst the world had to throw at them. “An hour ago I was still mourning you.”
I cannot grow, I cannot move, I cannot fell my age.
“A week ago I was mourning you. A month ago, a year ago, I was mourning you. Six fucking years of it, Billy, and you were here. The whole time, you were here.”
Engulfed by you, what can I do? When History's my cage, look forward to a future in the past.
“You think I wanted to be?” Billy snapped out, fingers pressing harshly into Steve’s arm as he held it down onto the workspace. “You think I wanted to wake up in some fucking lab, alone? That my idea of a happy fucking ending was being told to get out? To leave with nothing but the shit they found in my totaled car and whatever fucking hush money the US government decided to throw at me?”
“US gov—did Owens do this? He said you were d—”
“That’s kind of the idea, Pretty Boy,” Billy said with such cynical harshness it took Steve’s breath away. “Can’t be a lab rat if no one knows you fucking exist.”
It was too much. It was too much pressing against his heart, his brain, and suddenly the continued scratch of the needle was too much too, overwhelming to the point of making Steve want to rip his hair out and chew on his knuckles for peace. Billy seemed to recognize it, too—he always had, even before Steve knew what these reactions were—because he set down the machine, wrapping Steve’s forearm in plastic so they could ‘take a break’.
“Want some water, Harrington?” Billy asked, dipping his head to catch Steve’s eye.
Water. Water would be smart, but the shaking in his hands wouldn’t be steadied by water he wanted, he wanted... “Have a smoke?”
“Nah, kicked the habit. Kills people, you know?” At Steve’s small whimper, Billy winced. “Bad joke. Yeah, I got a smoke, but you’re not lighting up in here.”
Steve followed Billy outside, where he pulled a pack of cigarettes—still Marlboros—from his back pocket and offered Steve one only after lighting one of his own. Dustin may have kicked him for smoking again after trying so hard to stop completely, but Dustin wasn’t exactly there, was he? He deserved a smoke, after everything that had come out of the last legs of his trip.
The silence was bearable, more bearable than it had been in the close quarters of the shop. They both leaned against the wall, so close Steve could feel the heat radiating from Billy’s shoulder, but the open air of San Diego washed over him and eased any worry before it could compound.
“Why’re you in California?” Billy asked after some minutes had passed, watching cars pass rather than look at Steve.
Steve shrugged, unsure of how well he could really explain himself. “I’m just driving. Wanted to get out of Hawkins, see the ocean.”
“You know you can’t swim with that, right?” Billy asked, one eyebrow raised and the hand holding his cigarette pointing toward Steve’s wrapped-up forearm. 
He hadn’t thought about it, though it would’ve probably occurred to him by the time he got down to the water. “Yeah, yeah,” Steve answered, “I just, needed to see the beach.”
As if in an echo of the past, Billy smiled a thin-lipped smile and said, “You’ve seen the beach before, Harrington. It’ll look just like all the others.”
“No, it’ll be different,” Steve answered immediately, turning his head to face Billy too. “I haven’t seen your beach yet, and I mean to.”
If he closed his eyes, Steve could imagine he was back at the Quarry. They were laying under the light of the stars, smoking and talking about the future. Billy was holding onto him and Steve was promising Billy the entire world, if only they could make it through one last summer in Hawkins. He’d pack a bag and toss it into the back of the Camaro, and they’d drive until they found the beach Billy had grown up at, the beach that had been his peace for so many years. 
Except they hadn’t made it, and Steve had been left with all the promises he could never fulfill. 
“So this Robin. She your new girlfriend now?”
The idea alone pulled a loud laugh from Steve, warmth filling where the icy chill of loss had just resided in his heart. “No, ew, no,” he continued to laugh, bringing a hand up to scrub at the tears building in his eyes. “I’m not her type.”
“I think you’re everybody’s type, Harrington.”
“No, I mean,” Steve shook his head as the laughter began to die down, wishing he could call Robin with complete surety that she’d answer, if only so he could tell her what happened. She’d heard enough about Billy that she’d know what this meant, she may have even understood what Steve was feeling in that moment better than he did. “She’s dating Nancy now. They’ve lived in Boston since Nancy started college.”
“Prissy Wheeler?” Billy balked, making Steve grin at the old nickname he’d refused to drop even six years ago. “Wheeler is dating some girl from band?”
“Yep,” Steve answered, popping the ‘p’. “You missed a lot. We all ended up sort of...well, I guess there’s a reason we ended up friends. Jon’s out in Lenora Hills with this guy, Argyle, he met in school, you’d like him.”
“Lenora Hills...California? What’s Byers doing there?”
“Oh, they moved out there after...well, it’s kind of a long story,” Steve concluded, finally putting out his cigarette once his hands stopped shaking.
“So you keep saying.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Steve sighed, knowing he should tell Billy more, but where did he start? How could he possibly recap six years in a town’s history that Billy had never really cared about anyway? How could he recount so many years of his own history, knowing most of it would result in talking about how much better the days would have been if the memories could have been shared with Billy? “What’ve you been up to out here?”
It was Billy’s turn to shrug, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it. “We should finish up your ink.”
“Just one thing?” After so many years wondering what Billy could have done with all the time he hadn’t gotten, Steve was a little more than desperate to know what had ended up being his life. 
“C’mon, Harrington. I want to get some sleep tonight, let’s go,” Billy insisted, holding the door open until Steve had no choice but to return back to his seat. 
They didn’t talk much through the rest of the tattoo session, only little inconsequential statements thrown here and there to fill the space. When it came time to pay—or force Billy to actually accept the wad of bills he’d outstretched—and leave, Steve found himself hesitating by the door. Billy was busying himself cleaning up the space before closing the shop, only glancing up when he didn’t hear the bell of the door ring to signal Steve’s departure.
“What, forget how to open doors on your own, princess?” Billy called out, no malice hiding within any of his words.
Steve couldn’t stop himself from what he said next, the words flying out of his mouth before he could truly process them. “Come home with me.” At Billy’s confused look, he tried to explain. “I mean, I’m gonna go find a hotel to crash for the night. You should come with me, so we can catch up.” So I don’t have to stop looking at you, so I know you’re actually alive and this isn’t some horrible dream, so you can take me to your beach like we planned.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Steve.” Billy’s answer was curt and to the point, no room for any arguing back. Even after all these years, he still knew how to handle Steve.
“Right,” Steve breathed out, wondering how he was ever meant to gather enough strength to walk away from him. With a careful, stilted breath, Steve managed, turning and slipping out of the tattoo shop like it hadn’t turned his entire world on end.
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The next three days passed by like a blur. Steve couldn’t bring himself to get to the beach, or to go talk to Billy again, or really do much of anything except sit in the cheap motel room he’d found a few blocks from the shop. 
Steve didn’t really know how long he’d stay in California, figuring he’d stay until it felt right to go. At the rate it was going, the trip length would be defined by his rapidly dwindling funds. There’d been no choice but to move out of his parents’ house after Vecna, finding they wouldn’t have understood or accepted the Steve Harrington that had emerged from the rubble, but that also meant he’d given up every ounce of his inheritance in order to go prove he could be his own person. Sometimes, especially now as he lay with a sore neck on the scratchy thin sheets of a motel bed, he wished he wouldn’t have felt so determined to prove anything to them.
He considered calling Robin. He probably should’ve, actually. She would smack him upside the head if she ever found out this happened, that he’d found his long lost lover kickin’ it in sunny California, right when he had his quarter-life crisis and ditched his entire life for some roadtrip that once included Billy in the plans too. Every time he looked at the dingy plastic phone, however, Steve couldn’t bring himself to dial the number. How long had it been since they last spoke? Her birthday had been in March, he knows he called her then. Had she called for his?
In the end, Steve ended up not calling Robin and not going to the beach. He wound up at the tattoo shop again, this time in the light of day. It was busier now, the sound of whirring tattoo machines filling the space along with music that Steve is fairly certain comes from Twisted Sister. Billy wasn’t anywhere in sight, but the door in the back of the shop was closed. Was that his office? Did Billy have an office now?
The woman at the front counter seemed a little skeptical as Steve approached, his eyes never leaving the back door until he was right up at the counter. “Hey, um. Is Billy in today?”
“And who are you?”
Good to see Billy kept company with the same level of people skills as he did. “An old friend.”
“Billy doesn’t have old friends,” she answered immediately, raising one eyebrow as if to ask why he was still sticking around. Suddenly the entire place really didn’t seem like his kind of scene—he stood out in perfectly clean jeans, a white shirt with little stripes on the sleeves and a red vest. Steve stuck his hands in his jean pockets like that might somehow help him navigate the situation. “What do you really want?”
He had to wonder how much of Billy’s past he’d told this woman. They clearly were close, if she was willing to protect his privacy this intensely. Did she know he was hiding from the government?
“Can you just,” Steve sighed, trying to reign in the bubbling irritation threatening to boil over. “Can you tell him that Steve came in?”
That seemed to do the trick. The woman’s entire expression changed, morphing into something more akin to shock than the cool deference she’d worn before. “So you’re that Steve then,” she spoke lowly, like she hadn’t really intended to say it out loud at all. “Wait here.”
So he’d at least told her about him. The fluttering in Steve’s chest was something he hadn’t quite felt since he was still in high school, figuring out that yeah, maybe he did find some guys hot. And sure, maybe one of those guys happened to include Billy Hargrove, who wasn’t all that bad once you got past his defense wall. 
“Everything healing alright, Harrington?” 
Hearing Billy’s voice still took his breath away, like the first time he’d seen Billy step out of that slick blue Camaro in the Hawkins High parking lot. Even then he’d known the man would change his life, Steve just hadn’t anticipated it would ever go like this. 
“Huh?” Oh, tattoo. “Yeah, yeah it’s great. It’s really uh...healing. Well. It’s healing well.”
Billy nodded slowly, eyebrows raised as he watched Steve completely short circuit. “Good. There something you needed? I have some schedules I need to work on.”
Why was he here again? Steve scrambled to find something that would keep Billy out here with him, could get him some more time to talk. There was so much he wanted to say and even more he wanted to hear, and yet Billy didn’t seem like he wanted any part of it. Just one more time, please. “Well, you did so well on the first one I thought I should get another. Tattoo, I mean.”
“You want another tattoo.”
“Yep,” Steve confirmed, fighting the urge to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans. “That’s why I’m here. For a tattoo.”
“Most people wait a few weeks for the first one to heal, and to see if you even like it.”
“I’m not most people,” Steve fought back, wincing at the desperation beginning to hint at the edges of his words. “Look, no one back in Hawkins can do this nearly as well as you. I just, I trust you.”
Steve could see Billy weighing his options. Finally he sighed, nodding his head and guiding Steve over to one of the setups in the far back corner, away from prying eyes (and ears). 
“What do you want this time?” One look confirmed everything for Billy. “You still have no idea, do you?”
“Absolutely not.” 
“You didn’t come here for a tattoo, did you?”
“I definitely did,” Steve said, offering up the arm that the first one had been done on. “Ink me up, big guy.”
That pulled out a snort from Billy, though he quickly schooled his expression into mock sternness as he answered, “Don’t ever say that again.”
“Then tat me up already!”
“You are the dorkiest person I’ve ever met, and I had the misfortune of meeting the nerd herd,” Billy laughed, beginning to trace something out in his notebook. 
“Hey, that’s my nerd herd you’re talking about.” Though it had been years, Steve couldn’t help but smile at how easily they fell back into this. He could have imagined only days had passed since they’d talked, sipping beers and sharing kisses when no one was looking.
Billy was keeping the design a secret. He’d shaved Steve’s arm and placed the stencil, firmly telling the man not to look until he was done. Because Steve trusted him. 
“I surf.”
The statement came out of nowhere, far enough into the process that the steady sting of the needle had lulled Steve into a sort of trance. He blinked away the fogginess, turning to look at Billy at the statement. The other man hadn’t stopped working, like it wasn’t a big deal that he’d offered up something of where he’d been the last six years. Like he trusted Steve, too.
“Are these all your boards?” Steve asked.
“Some,” Billy said. “Some are from friends. That's what I did for a couple years, just surf. Helped with some of the physical shit.”
“Yeah, I know how that is,” Steve answered, mind immediately going back to the nearly four weeks he spent laid in bed recovering from the emotional devastation of losing Billy and the, maybe more pressing to some, physical devastation of actual Soviet torture. There was also the time after they’d gone into the Upside Down, when he’d practically collapsed from the literal fucking bites taken out of him the second he knew Vecna was gone. “I saw on one of the boards...you go by Billy St James now?”
“My mom’s maiden name,” Billy answered. “They suggested I change it, you know, after the demon monster impaled me.”
“Not funny.”
“You could get rid ‘a Harrington too. Feels good cutting ties with shitty dads.”
It did sound tempting. Childhood had been defined by ‘living up to the Harrington name’, being the best heir to the legacy, and being perfect, in every sense of the word. How relieving it must feel to finally shed the name that burdened him for so long. Steve could already imagine the pride he’d feel in changing it, ensuring that the Harrington name would end forever and all with him. 
And yet, Steve knew he could never do it. Harrington was also the name Dustin called him when they were bickering, and it was the name Robin used when she was worried about him but trying to pretend not to be. It was the name Billy, even now, still called him despite having called him ‘pretty boy’ and ‘princess’ on the first day they met.
There was a history there, and no matter how badly Steve wanted to wipe away any trace of his parents, he couldn’t wipe away the one family who’d actually given a shit about him.
“Nah, think I’ll hold onto it a little longer. Been hit in the head so many times I don’t wanna confuse myself.”
Billy’s scowl wasn’t something to mess around with. It was strong enough to clear rooms if he wanted, and this close, it rendered Steve completely silent. “Cut it out, would ya?”
“Cut what out?” Steve practically whined, the only thing keeping him from throwing his hands up in frustration being Billy’s large hands holding onto his left arm as he worked. He’d been doing so well, trying to navigate all the things Billy didn’t want to talk about, all the things that would spook the other man before Steve was ready to say goodbye. What had happened now?
“I hated that shit when you did it before, hate it even more now,” Billy snapped, turning the machine off and dutifully beginning to wrap Steve’s arm.
“Billy, do what? I’m not a mind reader.”
“Stop sayin’ all that shit about what a dumbass you are, or how no one actually needs you around. It’s fucking exhausting and sad as shit. You know how much breath you could save if you thought something good about yourself every once in a damn while?”
“I get it, message received,” Steve rolled his eyes, though the warm feeling spreading through his chest hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was the kind of conversation that had stopped the second Billy was gone—suddenly the only people around were the ones who tossed around ‘idiot’ and ‘dingus’ and ‘airhead jock’ like they weren’t knives to be buried deep in his chest. “You know, most people are actually nice when they give a compliment.”
“I’d rather die,” Billy shot back, smirking at the clearly doe-eyed look Steve was giving him. “You don’t want nice.”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Steve said as he followed Billy back over to the counter. “I know you’re a big softie at heart.”
“Harrington,” Billy warned, though only smiles decorated his face. 
“Come see the beach with me,” Steve blurted out again, hoping the long pause Billy spent staring at him meant an agreeance.
“I can’t, pretty boy, you know that,” Billy sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “But you should go, show off that new ink.”
“Hey, no flirting in the shop!” the woman from before shouted over, “Can we go back to when you were pining for the rest of your life or whatever?”
Billy tilted his head to stare at the ceiling, like he couldn’t quite believe this was his existence. Pining? So he had thought about Steve in those six years, enough that even this woman Steve had no idea existed knew about him. Maybe there really was some hope, after all, if he could keep talking to Billy without scaring him off. 
All it would take was time, and luckily Steve had plenty of that. 
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It became a pattern: wait a few days, walk down to the shop and convince Billy to spend an hour giving him whatever new design the other man could think of. After the second—a small smattering of wildflowers that Steve wished he could recognize to decipher the meaning of—Steve knew Billy was the best person to make the decisions for what art would cover his arm. And art it was, because soon enough Steve’s arm resembled a canvas, full of little mismatched designs that just seemed to work together, despite none of it having been planned out in the first place. But while Steve loved the tattoos, nothing quite measured up to the time he got to spend with Billy. 
They didn’t talk about Hawkins again—in fact, Billy seemed intent to ignore that he’d ever lived there at all, shutting down near completely if Steve accidentally brought up someone they’d known. So instead, they talked about Billy’s days spent trying to find a new couch for his apartment, and all of the silly tourist attractions Steve had visited on his trip from Indiana. They talked about how Billy had used his government hush money to startup the shop, and how the people working there became the family he’d always dreamed about.
They found a balance that worked for them, until the night Billy finished Steve’s impromptu sleeve. The last design was taking longer, leaving Billy to offer to close up the shop after everyone left. It was just them in the building, listening to Steve’s old tape again because ‘Billy, you gotta give me a break with some actual music.’
“What’re you gonna do now that we finished?” Billy asked, wrapping up Steve’s bicep and discarding his gloves. 
Steve didn’t know, and really he didn’t want to think about it because now he had no excuse to see Billy anymore, no way to convince the man to stick around him. There was nothing after this, no plan except to eventually get back to the only place that he had once called home. The only place he knew to go was the eternal safety net of his old hometown. 
“I don’t know yet,” Steve answered in the only way he knew how, shrugging as they walked the familiar path back to the counter. “Might finally get to the beach.”
“You still haven’t gone?” Billy asked, eyebrows raising.
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Every morning Steve had gotten up, and tried to put on swim shorts and a t-shirt, but every time he couldn’t leave the motel room. Something was stopping him at the door, keeping him from walking down to that beach alone. It was always meant to be his goodbye to Billy, his only way to try and move past the night when he froze in time for six years. Now that Billy wasn’t just alive but standing right in front of him, living where they’d once promised to run away together.
“Haven’t gotten around to it.” It was the easiest answer to give, the only thing he could say without revealing everything laying underneath the surface.
In the next moment, Billy was grabbing his keys and heading for the door of the shop. He stood outside, waving for Steve to hurry up like he was just supposed to understand what was happening. “Well?” Billy huffed when Steve was too slow, jingling the keys at him.
“What’re we doing?” Steve asked, watching Billy lock up the shop the second he cleared the door. 
“What d’you think we’re doing? We’re going to the beach.”
The beach. They were going to the beach. 
“But...but isn’t it closed at night?” Smooth, Harrington. Steve could feel his cheeks heat up at Billy’s laugh, trying to press a scowl to his own face but knowing it couldn’t have come across as all that intimidating.
“C’mon, pretty boy. You’re really gonna start following the rules now?” It was a goading if he’d ever heard one, some kind of jumpstart that Steve even now felt sparking him to life. He could practically hear the unsaid words on Billy’s lips, the where’s King Steve gone to now? in those blue eyes.
It was impossible to say no to Billy Hargrove when he really wanted something, when he took on such bright playfulness that spelled out trouble with every smirk. So he allowed himself to be guided to the water, unable to take his eyes off of Billy as though he were under a trance. 
It was quiet out there, just far enough from the city to dull out the noises and lights of a Friday night. The only sound was that of the waves lapping up at the sand in front of them, water spilling over their ankles before drifting back out to the ocean. The moon was out, nearly full and giving them enough light that Steve could see Billy’s face beside his. They’d sat down in the sand after Billy had warned Steve not to get his healing tattoos wet. Steve didn’t know the last time he could sit like this with someone else, simply co-existing in such a peaceful environment without anything to worry or think about. They weren’t talking, but really they’d never needed to be talking constantly, rather finding peace in being near one another.
“It’s beautiful,” Steve spoke up, turning to face Billy. 
“It’s home,” Billy breathed out, fingers of his far-sided hand digging into the sand. “I’m glad you’re here, Steve.”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting soft now,” Steve teased gently, maybe to hide away the heavy feelings stirring in his chest. 
“Never,” Billy answered, staring at him with such intensity that Steve couldn’t look away, captivated by every emotion that was too heavy, too conflicting, even to begin to read. All he knew was that in the years they’d been apart the feelings they’d had for one another hadn’t faded. 
When Billy leaned in, Steve didn’t move. He couldn’t, paralyzed by shock and the strange fluttering in his stomach. Being kissed by Billy felt like having life breathed back into him, like he was somehow moving but not quite alive since that summer. Steve held onto Billy tightly, fingers digging into his shirt like if he let go then the man would drift away from him. 
It only lasted a few seconds, but when they parted both men were breathless. 
“I thought we wouldn’t get this again,” Billy admitted, blinking dazedly like he was trying to wipe away the feelings washing over him. 
“Yeah,” Steve said, chin dropping a little. Tell me about it.
“Kept wondering what you were doing, if you’d found someone to make you happy,” Billy explained. “Thought maybe I’d see you eventually, here. Thought you’d have the little shitheads with you, though.” His jaw tensed up all at once, the stiffness stringing through his neck and shoulders until Steve wondered what it was that Billy was thinking about now.
“They’re not little anymore, and they’ll let you hear it every day if you called them that,” Steve tried to laugh through the heaviness against his chest. “Dustin and Lucas are off at college, too busy with their smart people classes to pick up a goddamn phone. Mike is helping out with Eddie’s tour—yeah, Eddie Munson. It’s a long story. But El, the girl you saved? She’s been traveling lately, trying to see as much of the world as she can now that we don’t have to worry about the lab coming after her. Will went with her, because apparently they moved out to California and became best friends. They’re all old now, they outgrew their babysitter.”
“You forgot one.”
“What? I didn’t—Oh. Oh shit,” Steve hissed, regret and cold realization seeping over him until he wondered if it would be better to just run now. Billy didn’t know, no one had known to tell him. “Billy, I don’t...Billy, the Upside Down didn’t stop after Starcourt. It came back, and we had to...Max, she...”
Billy’s expression darkened in an instant. “What happened to my sister, Harrington?”
He was messing this all up, ruining what had always meant to be a sweet moment. “Oh God no! No, no, Max is fine, I promise. She’s more than fine, she’s happy,” Steve rushed out, hands waving about as he tried to prove his point. “But last time, the only way we could put a stop to everything is if she...Fuck, I don’t even know how to explain it. Vecna, the monster we were fighting, targeted her. We tried to help her but she got hurt.”
“How hurt?” Billy’s hand was running over a spot on his abdomen now, right in the center. Though it had been years, Steve could imagine clearly the way a monstrous tentacle had stabbed him straight through the spot. He couldn’t help but wonder if Billy was still feeling it even now. “Steve, how hurt is she?”
“She was, she was in the hospital for a while. Like, a really long time. But she woke up, and she’s been doing so well lately. Max just moved in with Lucas, I think when they come back to Hawkins over their break they’ll tell us they’re engaged,” Steve rambled.
“Steve.”
“She’s blind, now, Billy. Max can’t see, and she uses crutches to get around most of the time unless she’s being stubborn,” Steve explained, reaching out for Billy’s hand and smiling sadly when the man let him take it. “I hate that it was her, that she had to get so hurt but...she’s really, really happy. She’s recovering well, she and Lucas have been better than ever, and she’s starting to paint, which...Max is amazing.”
Billy scrubbed his free hand over his face—once, twice, three times as he took in everything Steve told him. “But she’s...she’s okay?”
“Yeah, yeah she’s okay,” Steve reassured him, squeezing Billy’s hand once until he looked over at him. “Really, I wouldn’t lie to you about this. She has good and bad days, sure, but there is nothing that could stop that girl. She still misses you, though. Won’t really talk about it, but...I know she’d want to hear from you, to know that you’re okay.”
“Her and Sinclair, huh?” Billy asked, clearly avoiding the pointed suggestion Steve had made.
“Yeah,” Steve laughed, “they finally figured their shit out. I thought I’d be in a retirement home before they worked it out.”
“Sounds familiar.” Billy’s face was softer now, something of a smile tilting up his lips. 
“It does, doesn’t it?” Steve chuckled, “How long did it take us?”
“Longer than it should’ve. We got there eventually.”
“A couple of fights later.” 
“Hey, you can’t say we weren’t passionate,” Billy chuckled, no doubt imagining the same moments Steve was on the basketball court, by their cars in the parking lot, out by the Quarry when no one was watching.
Laughter blossomed between them, the sound rising and mixing with that of the waves, and though it would take time Steve knew in that moment that they’d be okay.
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They ended up back at Billy’s apartment, after. It was far more spacious than what Steve was expecting, but the simple explanation of ‘government hush money’ had cleared that up quickly. The place was cleaner than Steve expected, decorated sparingly and with just enough signs of life scattered throughout. 
It shouldn’t have surprised him when Billy kissed him again, but Steve gasped as his back pressed against the bedroom wall. Billy was gentle—a far cry from the rough, bruising touches they’d once given each other, a lifetime ago—hands on either side of Steve’s face. This was more rushed than the previous, Billy pressing insistently against him until he was flattened against the wall. 
Steve held on to him too, hands finding the short curls at the back of Billy’s neck. “I like this,” he murmured, tugging lightly and relishing in the gasp it pulled from Billy. “Your hair, I like it.”
“Yeah?” Billy’s lips moved to his neck, causing Steve to tilt his head back against the wall, lips parted and eyes raised to the ceiling like he might find some salvation there. His hands moved to Billy’s waist, tugging closer as the man covered what felt like the entire expanse of Steve’s neck in marks. 
“Yeah,” Steve breathed out, “it’s a good look.” 
The second Billy’s leg slotted between his thighs, pressing so close it practically begged for Steve to rock against it, Steve thought he might combust. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed only long enough to realize he missed the sight of Billy focused entirely on him. That look of arousal had always been one of Steve’s favorites—Billy’s tan cheeks flushing with color, pupils wide, and the first signs of sweat along his hairline. 
It all shuttered to a stop the second Steve’s hands reached for the hem of Billy’s shirt. Within seconds Billy’s expression shuttered closed and his hands wrapped around Steve’s wrists, not tight but warning. 
“Hey, what happened?” Steve asked, watching as Billy’s expression pulled even tighter. His eyebrows pulled together, eyes looking low to not meet Steve’s gaze. “You can talk to me. Do you want to stop?”
“No, I don’t,” Billy immediately answered. “I just—Stevie, if you’re expecting what I looked like before you’ll be disappointed.”
The scars. Steve had seen them plenty of times in the weeks they’d spent together at the shop, sweeping across Billy’s hands and arms. He’d seen what had happened in real-time, too, and could imagine now what was leftover from the scene. 
“You must think pretty low of me, huh?” Steve said lightly, not once letting go of Billy’s shirt. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Billy’s lips and smiling at the surprised look it garnered. “I finally find you after six years, and you think I’ll run off because of some scars?”
Steve gave a testing little tug of the hem, and though Billy’s hands stayed wrapped around his wrists he allowed the motion. With one hand he held onto Billy’s, lifting it to give a gentle kiss to one of the marionette-string scars there. “They proved you survived, how could I hate them?”
“Steve,” Billy nearly whined out.
“Do you trust me?” His voice dropped lower, hazel eyes never once leaving blue until Billy was nodding.
“‘Course I do, pretty boy.”
So Steve pressed his fingers to Billy’s chest and pushed, soft but insistent until the backs of Billy’s knees hit the bed. “Lay down for me.”
“Think you can tell me what to do?” Billy raised one eyebrow, lips still parted like he wanted to rile Steve up. It was a familiar game, the push and pull between them that only served to make Steve fall even further for the man. 
“I just did, didn’t I?” Steve returned just as easily, smirking as Billy listened and laid down on his back. “There’s a good boy.”
“Watch it,” Billy warned, though the little shuffle of his hips hadn’t gone unnoticed. For another time, Steve reasoned out. Tonight was about relearning each other, the games could wait.
Steve took his time climbing atop him, straddling Billy’s hips, leaning forward until he could kiss him again. It had been ages since the last time he’d done this, and only briefly did the sparks of insecurity pop in his head. Would Billy be able to tell that he was out of practice? What if he couldn’t be as good as he’d once been, would Billy be disappointed?
Except, it took exactly one look at Billy’s face for all of it to wash away. He looked like he’d found an angel, lips parted and head following Steve minutely when he broke the kiss. 
“You’re gorgeous, you know,” Steve told him softly, hands running over his clothed chest until they could grip the bottom hem again. “It’s not fair, really, that I get to see you for the first time twice.”
This time when Steve lifted Billy’s shirt, there was no resistance. In fact, his back arched to help Steve pull the fabric up and off of him, discarding it somewhere behind them. Aware of the eyes on him, Steve tried to rein in his reaction. He’d seen what had happened, had been standing feet away when Billy had single-handedly held off the Mind Flayer long enough for El to get away, but even that couldn’t have prepared him for seeing the large expanse of scarring across Billy’s abdomen. More of him was scarred than not, large starbursts of white in the center of his sternum, his sides, his chest. Lines like those on his arms spread out like wires from the bursts, crisscrossing in across nearly every inch of Billy’s chest. 
Steve wanted to cry at the simple fact that Billy would be reminded of what happened to him forever. It wasn’t easy to hide away and forget about, no way to cover all of it up and pretend. He’d survived, but he’d been alone and hurt and even now was more affected than anyone ever was let on. It wasn’t fair, Steve wanted to scream at whoever would listen. He’d gladly march through the Upside Down again if it meant sparing Billy from any more hurt at the hands of it.
“Like I said,” Steve finally spoke up, lips pressing against the first large scar on the right side of Billy’s chest. “As gorgeous as I remember.”
Billy’s entire body was tense like he was waiting for his worst fears to be confirmed at any second. Steve had no intention of doing so, though, instead sure to show Billy just how much he loved every inch of his body. He loved him, loved that they were getting a second chance when it had once seemed so impossible. He could only hope Billy understood, could see it in his eyes every time he looked his way. 
The gasp Billy let out as Steve’s tongue flicked over one of his nipples was intoxicating, causing white-hot electricity to run through Steve’s body down to the tips of his toes. A pleased smile warmed his face as Steve reached up to lightly pinch the other, watching as Billy actually goddamn whined, his back arching into the touch. 
“You’re a fucking tease, Harrington,” Billy hissed out, hands reaching up to grab at Steve though the man quickly knocked them away.
Lifting his head enough to make eye contact with Billy, Steve couldn’t help but wink. “You say that like you’re surprised, Hargrove.”
“Fuck you.”
“We’ll get to that, too,” Steve grinned, moving back to continue his worship of Billy. He took his time, working his way down Billy’s chest and stomach, paying attention to every scar he passed until his lips brushed the waist of his jeans. By the time he was done, Billy was practically writhing under him, hips shifting under Steve’s and hands tangled up in his hair. 
Those hands gave an insistent tug to Steve’s hair the second he reached for Billy’s jeans, drawing a hitched out moan from Steve. “Get up here,” Billy demanded and Steve couldn’t help but listen until their faces were so close that their noses nearly brushed. “Wanna see you too, pretty boy.”
No, not yet. 
Steve fought back a wince, wishing Billy would have let him get his mouth on him before asking for this. Because maybe, just maybe if Billy was already wrought with pleasure he wouldn’t notice what rested under Steve’s own shirt. It may have been hypocritical to think, but Steve’s appearance had once been everything. He’d been King Steve, praised for his golden boy charm and even more golden looks. After that he’d been Billy’s Pretty Boy, constantly told how perfect and soft and wonderful he was. And he’d loved it, he did. Even now he could feel himself melting under such warm praise but he couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t that pretty boy anymore, that there were some things that the demobats and Vecna had taken away forever. 
“Where’d you disappear to?” Billy asked, thumb reaching up to rub at the space between Steve’s furrowed brows.
“I’m not—,” Steve tried to explain, throat catching around the words. “I’m not the same either. It’s not pretty anymore.”
“Hm,” Billy hummed, large hands already tugging insistently at Steve’s shirt. He allowed it to happen, keeping his eyes closed as Billy said, “Think I’ll be the judge of that one, sweetheart.”
Steve jumped at the feel of Billy’s palm resting flat on his stomach, off to the side where a demobat had once sunk its teeth in and torn. The other came up around Steve’s neck, fingertips gently rubbing over the line he normally kept hidden by high-collared shirts.
“What did they do to you, pretty boy?” Billy whispered out, and the softness with which he spoke cracked something within Steve. His face contorted as he felt the first stinging of tears building behind his eyelids. His hands dug into the sheets on either side of Billy where he held himself aloft, shaking his head a little as if that might help to compose himself.
His head sunk until his forehead pressed to Billy’s chest, and Billy allowed him to do so, hands moving to wrap around him in a tight embrace. One rubbed his back, the other coming up to its familiar hold in Steve’s hair. Steve could feel Billy’s fingers find the rough scarring on his shoulder blades from being dragged halfway across a different dimension, rubbing gentle circles into the numbed skin.
Steve’s entire body shook, and he felt his warm breath stutter out against Billy’s skin. It was easier to manage like this, eyes closed and his entire world narrowed down to Billy. “We went down there. The Upside Down, we were there.”
“Shit, Steve.”
“Yeah, I know,” Steve laughed wetly, wondering only briefly how they both had ended up crying. “I never minded taking a hit if it meant protecting them, but this...I misstepped, and I get this.”
“It’s okay,” Billy tried, his voice tight with his own tears. “What happened to scars being a sign of survival, huh? It goes for you too.”
“This was all I had.” Steve’s hands found their own holds on Billy, their bodies tightly together as Steve’s face shifted to hide in Billy’s neck. It was easier to let it out, easier to be honest about the parts of himself he’d been hiding away for years. “Everyone else moved on eventually, everyone stopped needing me. They left and recovered the best anyone could. You did, too. You have this whole life out here, and I...I’m still in Hawkins. I barely finished school, I don’t have any real skills or hobbies, and I can’t even be good for my looks anymore because who the fuck would wa—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Steve,” Billy spoke, voice firm but not once threatening. One hand was tucking itself under Steve’s chin, coaxing him away from Billy’s neck and up enough that they could face each other. “Don’t.”
“Billy,” Steve sighed, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up in his cheeks. 
“Hey, I mean it. Do you have any idea what it felt like to see you walk into my shop that night?” Billy asked, brushing away Steve’s hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. “You make me feel alive again, Steve. You make all of it feel worth it.”
When Steve couldn’t find it in himself to speak, Billy continued. “I need you as much as you need me, you got that? Everything...everything’s been about you.”
It was too much all at once, and yet everything Steve had needed to hear for the last six years. No one had ever made him feel quite so wondrous as Billy, who might as well have been the sun and stars himself. 
“This one,” Billy spoke lowly, thumb brushing over the wildflowers tucked into Steve’s forearm, “was because you wore that shirt into the shop. It reminded me of sitting out in that field together in Hawkins, and you called it our first date because we’d gone a whole three hours without cracking any jokes at each other.”
“You remember that?” It had been in their senior year, when spring was just beginning to warm the air and wildflowers took over every inch of free space in Hawkins. They both had gone there independently, each searching for a tiny escape from the problems they were facing and instead finding each other. It was one of the first times they’d spoken kindly to each other, the first time Steve had looked into Billy’s eyes and thought this was someone he could love. His heart burned bright at the knowledge that he’d have a piece of that memory on his skin forever. 
“I remembered your smile, how it felt like you warmed me up from the inside out with one look,” Billy admitted, his hand moving to another one higher up on Steve’s arm. “And this one, for the birthday party you tried to throw when you found out no one ever remembered mine.”
“I still celebrate it, every March,” Steve whispered, feeling like he was beginning to see Billy in an entirely new way all over again. 
“See? That’s what I mean.” Billy reached up with his other hand, wiping at some of the stray tears left on Steve’s face. “You’re unlike anyone else, Steve. You saved me when I needed it, let me help you now.”
He could do that. Steve could picture himself staying here, settling into this city that had already felt like more of a home than Hawkins had felt in the last decade. Maybe Billy would find him something to help with at the shop, or maybe he’d find some new job to love without the oppressive fear that the Upside Down would reopen at any moment. They’d both seen each other as they were now, and neither one had run away. They could be happy out here, together.
“Just tell me what you need, pretty boy,” Billy finished, and all at once with complete surety, Steve knew the answer.
“I need you,” Steve answered, holding onto Billy and never wanting to let go. “I want you, please.”
“You already have me, Steve, you’ve always had me,” Billy said, moving them so Steve was the one laying on his back on the bed. “That’s too easy.”
“Take care of me,” Steve continued, feeling a smile work its way onto his face through the tears. How could he not smile, when Billy was looking at him with such adoration even through his own tears? “I want all of you.”
“Are you sure?”
Steve nodded, never more sure of anything else. 
And Billy was careful with him, hands touching all the right places and mouth leaving bruised marks all down Steve’s neck and chest, filling him with equal parts burning arousal and overwhelming, intense love. It may have been years, but both of their bodies knew the way, rocking together at an easy pace, neither one rushing for the moment to end. If either one of them let a few tears slip, no one pointed it out. All Steve could focus on was Billy’s hands holding him steady, the feel of Billy’s warm back under his fingers, and the waves of pleasure that threatened to burn through him as Billy pushed impossibly deeper inside him. 
It was like the rest of the world fell away, leaving only them as they at last came home to one another. The moment he finished, Steve saw stars dance across his vision, lips parted in a loud, trembling moan that sent Billy over the edge as well. He hadn’t even noticed when Billy had gotten up until he was sitting on the bed beside Steve, cleaning him up and wrapping him up in his arms. 
He came to a few minutes later, resting against Billy’s back, those large arms wrapped around him and hands resting on his stomach. “You back with me, Steve?” Billy asked, chin resting gently on Steve’s head.
“Never left,” he answered, giving Billy a cheeky smile. “Never again, I’m staying here.”
“Wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” 
They lay together all night, sometimes talking about what had happened in their lives apart, other times simply enjoying feeling so close to each other again. Eventually, they’d fall asleep, the first restful night either would have in six years. There was still so much to figure out, so much that they hadn’t thought of beyond their dream of escaping together. But that was okay too.
After all, they had a lifetime to figure it out.
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brightgnosis · 5 months
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We left at 4:30 pm yesterday and didn't get back until 10:30 pm. The event itself was only from about 6:30 pm to about 8:00 pm. So much of yesterday was spent just traveling to and from the event (why do I have to live so far away from my Synagogue) ... I wound up needing two extra hours of sleep this morning, my body hurts so bad I legitimately feel like I got run over by a Mack Truck, all of the nerves in my thighs especially are shot, and my entire respiratory system is congested to Antarctica and back- all completely normal effects of me traveling for the day every time I go long distances with my Fibro ... But God was the travel for the Synagogue's fundraiser event so ultimately beyond worth it all.
I got to experience Havdalah for the first time (I literally cried at the beauty of it). I sat for hours talking to the Rabbis (both mine, and her Husband who is also a Rabbi in his own right) about so many ridiculous and random things. I met one of my other Conversion Classmates finally (she's so sweet and quiet). I met the girl whose Bat Mitzvah I cried over online (she is so lovely). I got to see the individual who invited us to Shabbat Dinner at their home last time we were there for service- and met their partner and their roommate, too (they're all so incredibly nice- and they showed me some photos of the new hides they're working on for the Torah Scrolls).
I even got to out myself about my pronouns, and tell the story about how @grandmother-jay decided I was her "Lizard" instead of her "Sister" when I first came out to her as It / Its Agender- and how that segways into a joke about "no Gender, only Frog" because of my Fibro and the skin issues that come with it. And they all laughed. And they all loved it. And one was happy they were no longer "the only one with the weird pronouns at Shul anymore".
I haven't laughed or cried that hard in decades. And I'm completely beside myself about it ... Absolutely struck by how, three years ago, I sat here on Tumblr crying and trying to figure out where to go after I'd left Irish Reconstructionism because of all the toxicity I'd encountered; broken and despondent at the loss of yet another religious community I desperately wanted to love and accept me ... Thinking, trying to figure out what I needed most out of religion to fulfil me- and settling on "Community" as my absolute; my driving need that I had to fulfil above all else in order to sustain myself.
All I could think of last night was how, sitting at that table, I had never felt more welcome and accepted anywhere in the world, in all of my life; that I'd finally found it after decades of sticking out, and not fitting in, constantly being rejected and too pained to try again everywhere I went, putting up walls to protect myself. I feel Human, and Seen, and Loved, and everything here just feels so incredibly right in every way, and I am sobbing over it.
Every encounter I have- every additional step I take- is just further confirmation. Not only that this was the correct path for me to begin with, and that I made the right choice (not just for my Ancestors, but for myself). But also that putting my absolute faith in HaShem to deliver the way for me when the time was right, was the best thing I have ever done for myself.
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archivalofsins · 19 days
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Heya again! Thanks for answering my what if guilty Kotoko ask! I really like hearing your thoughts.
I was also wondering how it would change if Shidou got guilty like he wanted in T1? Due to his like "this world is cruel" attitude? Don't feel obligated to answer if there are other things you want to do. I hope you enjoy your day <333
Oh, thank you for such a polite ask!
I was writing a very long post- So, it took a minute for me to get around to reading this. I hope you do like the answer though because i have a lot of thoughts on guilty Shidou. I even surprised myself a bit.
Personally I think if Shidou got the trial verdict he wanted he would have been incredibly scarred and upset by it. He's shown to be upset by people have negative opinions of him in Throw Down. So, he's the sort to be really sensitive to the opinion of others. This is because, like Kotoko he's rather oblivious to the feelings of the people around them.
For a good example think of them like Laios from Dungeon Meshi. They both put they're interests and hobbies above the feelings of others unintentionally and end up being careless with their relationships. Causing there to be a level of distance between them and others that they themselves rarely perceive if ever perceive outside of direct acts of hostility. Futa is like this to an extent as well.
Here are some instances that display this oblivious nature of his.
20/06/08
Mahiru: Shidou-san…… you’re really good-looking. Personally I think you’d be better if you ate a bit more, but you’re slim and tall, and well put together to boot…… You must’ve been super popular up until now, right?
Shidou: ……yeah, that’s true…… I did my share of fooling around in the past.
Mahiru: Oh~? That’s not the sort of answer I’d expect from you. I’ve got it! Somebody told you that if you replied like that people wouldn’t resent you so much, right?
Shidou: Haha, I’m surprised you guessed. ……it seems that no matter what guise I put on, it’s meaningless against a woman’s insight.
Q.19 What was your partner like?
Shidou: A strong person. I tend to be a bit careless in my personal life, so I was always relying on her.
In Minigram Episode 31: Going For A Walk Shidou doesn't recognize that Mu want's attention and continues walking around the panopticon.
He asks her to join her of course Shidou is courteous but he doesn't stand around idle to make small talk after she says she's not interested in walking. Going straight back to what he set out to do.
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And with that he continuedd his walk. Meeting Mahiru along the way and walking with her when they wrap back around to Mu, Mahriu verbal notes and recognizes Mu is upset.
This habit is also shown of in the Minigram Episode 16: Insensitive,
Where Shidou is shown to be intrigued by Kotoko's discussion instead of disgusted like the rest of them.
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Kotoko not even stopping her discussion until Futa has to remind her that he's trying to eat and maybe tallking about peeing on clothes isn't the most appropriate right now. Not even going into how she just starts this conversation because she notices him staring at his spoon.
He just fucking thinks it and Kotoko is observing people well enough to go i know what that guy's thinking but not that maybe this is not the appropriate time to say the rest off this.
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Q.09 Which of the other prisoners do you think resembles you the most?
Kotoko: That’s a hard one. I’m only able to answer based on my guess on what they did. But I think the one that probably resembles me the most is Futa? Though he’s also the person who resembles me the least.
Let's get back on topic now we know that Shidou is a bit oblivious to the feelings of those around him. Is he self-conscious when those feelings are brought to his attention plainly though?
Given these lyrics in Throw Down I believe so.
"“NO” in my dream I am making you cry again, I am being blamed. “NO” the hesitation I killed is holding its breath and sniffing out lies."
Shidou cold opens his first song showing that despite strengthening his resolve to do the things he feels he must and can't stop doing the upset it creates for those around him still causes him to hesitate. That he feels upset when what he does causes others to cry or when he is being blamed for misfortune. Yet, he can't stop.
He wants this cycle to end but this cycle is also the only thing given him a reason to live.
"Tock-tock… tells me, the reason it’s ok to be here."
Shidou doesn't ask the audience to vote him guilty because he wishes tobe punished through living on being held accountable for his actions and the harm they caused. He's asking because he wants to be able to die. He wants something that tells him it's not okay to be here without it hurting him emotionally.
That's why in his first voice drama he states that doing three trials and unnecessary while asking for Es to simply skip to the death sentence. There's also this lyric that highlights his disconnect between the the repercussions for his active choices and his long term goals.
"I don’t feel scared because I don’t know."
He isn't afraid because he doesn't yet know-
"Not dead. Yeah, she's definitely not dead. I finally understand the value of what I've been robbing people of."
He's not scared to do what he's doing because he doesn't comprehend the pain he's causing people. Shidou exists to juxtapose and embody the mindset that Kotoko espouses. That people who do the sort of things that got everyone here put in Milgram possibly won't understand the severity of their actions until they've lost something.
"Es, look. Someone who committed a crime can only realise its severity through losing something. I've seen many criminals, but none of them would give way without pain."
Shidou's serves to highlight that despite how radical in her implementation Kotoko is she isn't entirely wrong. The only thing that's causing her to be wrong is the fact that her methods are inflexible she uses the same means on every individual even when it may not be situationally appropriate.
Still Shidou perfectly represents the sort of person who can casually do harm to others because they have yet to experience the same things themselves.
Or to put it simply Shidou only believed the ends justifed the means means because he wasn't the one footing the bill for those means.
"After stabbing you with my words, the blood started to flow and slowly stained my white. Hey, you remember what it feels like? The feeling to take away in order to give."
Q.15 Do you think you’ve made a contribution to society?
Shidou: I used to think my work was a contribution to society.
He's taking from others to give to himself so he won't see the issue with that cause there's he's constantly gaining. Why would he see an issue? He believes this will all pay off in the end for himself.
This is one of the reasons Delusion Tax suits him so well.
Because it's a song all about making empty promises to help the other person get what they want then just running off with all the gains. Even ending with,
"But those wishes won't really come true, even if you pay. For it's all a lie, a great big farce. Thank you for all that, that's plenty. These scraps of paper belong to me now. That's right for all these dirty delusions let's settle the bill with this dirty money."
Like thanks I used you now- You had some nice thoughts there too, right? So let's just settle the bill and end things here. Trial three double innocent Shidou is definitely going to be fun. Getting off topic having some nice thoughts of my own here but yeah.
Shidou wants the outcome of being guilty but doesn't want to walk the road to get there. He doesn't want to go through that mental torture because as he said from the start,
"“Throw down” emotions with no color I wonder if I can die with it still left."
This is why when it's immediately brought to his attention that the verdict causes mental anguish. Something that would make it impossible for him to die with emotions that have no color he changes his tune. Suddenly he needs to be innocent not for his sake though he still wants to be guilty in the end- In fact he doesn't even know the right answer yet really. He just knows that there are lives that need saving so his abilites make him indepensable. He needs to be innocent for their sake what if someone dies.
So, if Shidou was guilty with no forewarning that the verdict caused mental anguish suffering and for those to hear voices constantly blaming them something he admits being sensitive to in his first trial song... I honestly think it would have taken a very heavy emotional toll on him and he would have holed himself off as we see him doing in Throw Down and is alluded to in Triage.
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Which could be why he stated this during his trial two written interrogation,
Q.07 Are there any prisoners you get along with?
Shidou: Kayano-kun has become like that, and I can’t spend my time smoking at the moment, so the smoking trio has disbanded, which is a bit lonely.
Specifying how Mikoto had become because it reminded him of how he used to act and caused him to be upset.
A trial one guilty would have emotionally wrecked this man. He was already. Hair more dishelveled than Mikoto's restraints tighter probably and not even mentioning if Kotoko is still innocent during this he would have been jumper after Futa and Before Mahiru.
Since Kotoko said,
"I attacked everyone in order, but because of the interference caused by Kayano Mikoto and Mukuhara Kazui, who was protecting Kajiyama Fuuta, I couldn't finish it properly."
So, good news Mahiru would have been uninjured since Mikoto and Kazui intervened during Kotoko's second attack.
Bad news he would not be able to really help the injured or would have possibly died. Though I don't think they'd kill him that early he'd be more injured than Mahiru for sure. Because his on the slim side as Mahiru noted and how much strength he has is unknown.
He may have reflected on his treatment of children a little and not be as demeaning to Es. Because he would respect them being able to see through his theatrics a bit more. Instead of believing Es and the audience still don't know anything yet.
"You don’t even know yet, and yet."
I could imagine despite Amane being upset with him her gritting her teeth and trying to help without him badgering over her shoulder. Because she wouldn't want anyone to die either. I mean she couldn't leave the cat alone and all it had was a scratch.
So chances are taking care of people might have fallen on her in the case of that happening. Like if Shidou was guilty and her innocent first trial or even if they were both Guilty. Since it seems Kotoko was always going to attack the prisoners in order.
Shidou would more than likely in contrast to Mahiru be opnely angry about the situation since he doesn't sem to like violence at all. Plus despite being innocent he still holds disdain towards Kotoko. Making me feel his anger over it would just be doubled and he would take low shots to hold Es to the same accountability they held him to.
Probably saying something along the lines of,
"This prisoners are your responsibilty. That's what you claimed. Right now we're all like your patients then and the only thing you seem to be doing is making us all worse. In a lot of ways you may be no different from me it seems.... Even children can be this way after all. I was naive."
Really just twisting it in. The same way he sort of does in his second voice drama already.
He does say I see how cruel this world is in Triage but I feel like he's saying that in a only a cruel uncaring world would find a person like me innocent. Especially given the information from Deep Cover confirming that Kotoko did go to court implying all of the prisoners may have from Kazui's statement on acquitted murderers in his first voice drama and Jackalope stating in Es' if this was just about the law than there would be no point in them being here.
So I thought that Shidou was once again upset that he hadn't been held accountable to the extent that he should be which meant he would have to live with himself. So I think if he were guilty trial one he would consider that to be fair in a lot of ways. Yet not be able to handle all the voices judging and blaming him. He'd probably take it a little harder than Futa maybe go to others for reassurance.
Because of his carelessness he wouldn't be able to support himself in the face of scrutiny like that. He'd probably either end up relying a bit on Mikoto who didn't have anyone else to confide in about his guilty verdict because Futa basically told him there's no use talking to him about it. Plus Mikoto and Kazui are the only two in Milgram he treats somewhat like equals.
If Kazui is still innocent under this framing he could end up relying on him or being around the both of them more. The smoking club definitely would not have disbanded because Shidou would probably be smoking more if anything. Like I just imagine him being super dispondent and a bit shaken in his belief about children.
He would defintiely take Es more seriously after that's for sure.
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wyhoysuniverse · 24 days
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a list of reasons to live / life goals (for us)
Hold more puppies and kitties and every adorable and safe baby creatures we can get our hands on
Get the job we want (work with dogs for the rest of our life)
Trying new candies
Doing more horseback riding
Go to a mosque to pray
Get through the hard ass classes in college so we can get our Animal Science degree BECAUSE WE DESERVE IT
Be completely independent from our family
Adopt animals (most likely only dogs and cats though)
Meet our future service dog :’)
Get our CPDT-KA!!!!!! (Dog trainer credential)
Have our first kiss
Meet our long distance partners
Meet our long distance friends
Finish at least one of the big fic projects we have
Contribute to the Voltron Wiki
Tell a trusted adult about our DID that’s not our therapist (trust and safety goal)
Stocking up on as many iPhone headphones as possible because we know we will loose as many as three pairs and music is a huge coping skill so we need headphones all the time so need to remember to do that
Sing in front of an audience
Cry in front of someone who isn’t a counselor or my therapist
Do at least one year long treatment program because we need it
Find the words to express our deep grief and trauma and longing and loss and heartbreak but also our joy our love the beauty of the world and our deepest desires
Tell someone to their face we have a crush on them and live through it anyway
Do it sad do it angry do it I don’t want to but also do it joyful do it fulfilled do it regardless
Do some things like going on a 7+ mile hike (only if you know it will be worth it) even if we will be in so much pain in the coming days— basically do things that will bring physical pain because the benefit outweighs the cost
Find irl friends who you are absolutely sure love you and see you and care for you
Live til and beyond our golden birthday (the 31st)
Will add more
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illusioncanthurtme · 1 year
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Responding to @itsacoldandbrokenwaluigi with my daisy + waluigi thoughts! I'm actually planning on drawing some stuff for this idea, but for now here's me dumping out what's been banging around in my brain for the past few days.
So it's been said that waluigi likes daisy, but she doesn't return his feelings. They go to these sporting events in all the various Mario installments and there's always this awkward or negative energy between them. But consider this, they're actually EXES, and everyone around them is aware. Waluigi is still very hung up on her, and is always trying to come onto her, or asking her to take him back. Daisy is just like, nah! Leave me alone! *Punches him in the face during boxing*
But lemme explain. My idea for their relationship requires some backstory. So picture this: Daisy, waluigi and wario were actually friends, and a part of a very successful competitive athlete trio. This is based on their debut in Mario tennis, which made them counterparts to peach, Mario, and Luigi. They were RUTHLESS and brutal sportsmen. They had their differences; warios strength comes from his overall body/muscle strength, this makes him good in sports like weightlifting, boxing, hammer throwing, etc. Waluigi is good in endurance based sports, like long distance running, tennis, and cycling. Daisy excels in sports that require strategy and precision, like soccer. And it was their differences that made them such a good team.
Daisy and waluigi, however, had something really special. They were PROFESSIONAL LATIN DANCE PARTNERS!!!! They were absolutely SAVAGE on the dance floor, and no one came close to their dancing prowess. They won gold after gold and were nothing short of untouchable. (Of course this is where waluigi gets his thing with the rose + being all romantic!!) They were also in a serious relationship, and it was a fiery, passionate romance.
But, it ended. My main idea for what happened is that daisy was kidnapped by tatanga, and waluigi chickened out and ran instead of trying to rescue her. I'm imagining them winning yet another latin final gold, and they're walking outside. Waluigi is confessing his love for her (like always) but maybe this time…. about pull out a ring?? I'm not sure about that but they were definitely serious enough to consider marriage. I just like to imagine waluigi being more nervous than usual around her and daisy being like "babe what's wrong?" but also a little amused to see him so bashful. not sure about the details but they were having an "I love you so much let's be together forever," moment. Then tatanga shows up out of nowhere and waluigi books it. Later, Mario's confused when he rescues daisy because she's all upset and crying, but it's obviously not about the kidnapping. 
That, or their relationship turned sour somehow.
Either way, after that the energy is always a little awkward around them. Waluigi still loves her and isn't afraid to show it. Daisy is trying to move on, but maybe… there's a small part of her that enjoys all the attention and keeping him on his toes. And maybe, just maybe… she still has feelings for him?
That's basically it. I have another idea that's sort of like a remix to this headcanon that would work as a very self indulgent continuation to the Mario movie. I'm no fic writer though so it just lives in my head 
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