John found him in module two.
His second eldest brother was sitting beside the pod, pieces of it spread around him, staring at nothing.
John leant against the hatchway and quietly watched him. From the moment Grandma had reported the avalanche, John knew he would have to come home tonight. Avalanche rescues always messed with the family, particularly Scott and Virgil. He would be lying if he said they didn’t affect him, but he wasn’t boots on ground. He didn’t have to watch that wave of white bearing down on those he loved.
He hadn’t been the one there on that fateful day.
Virgil wore a frown as if he was glaring at something or someone John couldn’t see.
John had already checked in on Scott...on the other side of the Island and still moving. He’d be out running for a while and likely would come back and give the gym a work out.
Virgil was more subtle. He tended to pound the piano or vanish into his studio. On the rare occasion he could be found beside Scott either pummelling a sandbag or his brother on the spar mat. To find him here was a little odd.
“I’m okay, John.” Those eyes were suddenly fixed on the astronaut. “How’s Gordon?”
He pushed himself off the hatchway and entered the module. His spacesuited feet hardly made a sound. “He’s as well as can be expected. He’s with Alan.” A few more silent footsteps and John sat down quietly beside his brother. “What are you doing?”
His brother reached down and picked up a piece of pod mechanics. “Just checking the system after today’s rescue.”
John eyed exactly what Virgil had pulled apart. He was pretty sure it was the side of the module that hadn’t been used...and the same he and Scott had finished maintenance on that morning.
Busywork?
“I’m okay, John. You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry is my business.”
Brown eyes glanced up at him. “I thought that was in Scott’s portfolio.”
“Different perspective.”
Virgil arched an eyebrow before picking up another piece of pod and shoving it into the storage case. Several more pieces followed with no further attempt at conversation.
“Alan said you were grumpy for most of the day.”
That did it. His usually quiet brother flared up like a snake prodded with a hot poker. “He did, did he? Did he also tell you that he has turned Max into his personal slave so he can sit on his butt and watch videos while the rest of us work our asses off?”
“Not in so many words, no.” Calm and considered.
It succeeded. Virgil deflated. “No, he wouldn’t.” His brother returned to shifting around mechanical parts.
“How is Scott?”
His brother froze. “How do you think he is. Alan was nearly buried in an avalanche. I expect to be repairing gym equipment tomorrow.” Virgil stood up and put his back into moving the equipment into the locker.
“No one was injured. We’re all safe.”
“Yes, we are.” A chunk of pod landed on the module floor with a massive clang and Virgil swore.
Reaching down, John picked up the piece of machinery and, standing, held it out to his brother. Virgil looked at him with sad eyes. “Thank you.” It was taken from his hand and stashed beside its siblings.
“Gordon was very impressed.”
Virgil paused a moment, but then returned to shifting equipment. “With what?”
“With you.”
That was enough to stop him. “Gordon?”
John struggled to hold back a smile. “In his words...’Oh my god, yeeeah! Go Virg!’”
Virgil blinked at him and John could no longer hold back the grin. “Can’t say I wasn’t impressed myself.”
He watched his brother fight the urge to smile. “The new grapple gun performed well.”
John rolled his eyes. “You performed well, Virgil. There is no harm in taking credit where it is due.”
“I’m just glad I got Alan off the side of that mountain.” And the glum was back.
John sighed to himself as Virgil shut the equipment locker. “What is it, Virgil? What’s bugging you? Because all I can see is a successful rescue with a great outcome.”
His brother rounded on him. “It was pure chance, John. So damn close and it shouldn’t have been!” Virgil’s eyes flared at him in anger, but not at John, but...
At himself.
“How?”
Virgil’s brows knotted even more. “I knew that mountain was coming down. I had sensors on it. I was sitting there waiting with nothing else to do but stare at the damn thing, and it still caught me by surprise!” Virgil shoved the locker against the wall with a bang. John blinked at the strength his brother wielded. “There shouldn’t have been a dramatic rescue, I should have been there already!” Virgil turned away. “Alan and Brandon could have died because I wasn’t on the ball.”
John stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
The glare Virgil shot him was enough to flay him alive. “Do I look like I have a sense of humour right now?”
“Virgil-“
But his brother wasn’t finished. “We can have all the equipment in the world and it won’t mean jack shit if I’m not good enough to deploy it in time.”
“Virgil-“
“And Alan. We could have lost Alan. I-I can’t...not like Mom, please not like Mom.”
John’s eyes widened. “Virgil, take a breath. He’s okay. We’re all okay.”
Brown eyes stared up at him. “I fucked up so bad.”
John reached over and took his brother by his shoulders. “Virgil! How can you possibly say that? Did you see what you did?”
“I saw exactly what I did. Why wasn’t I airborne sooner? Why did I wait until the vibration sensor was in MOTION before making a move? It was seconds, John, seconds. I didn’t think I was going to make it. They could have been buried alive.” Like Mom.
That last might as well have been shouted with the rest.
“But they weren’t”
“Pure luck.”
“No! Virgil Tracy! You were on the scene. You were there. There was no way anything was going to happen to either of them with you in play, Virgil. You know this. I know this. I have seen you face far more than a falling mountain. It didn’t stand a chance.”
“John-“
“You listen to me. I know you. I watch you day in and day out. I may be twenty-two thousand kilometres away, but I am with you every step every rescue and, goddamnit, Virgil, those seconds may well have been hours for all they mattered.” He glared at his brother. “How many times have you sat back in a situation, watching, only to step in and save the day when it most counts? You sit there quietly, calculating, planning, knowing exactly when to intervene. You are our rock, Virgil. Solid, dependable and inevitable. And god forbid anything gets in your way once you get moving.”
John’s lips were tight and his heart thudding. Virgil stood staring at him, eyes wide.
Quietly. “When I’m so far above and someone is screaming, you are the hands I reach out to catch them with. I trust those hands with so many lives, Virgil. So many people calling for help and I have no need for faith because I KNOW you will do everything you can. Just like you did today.” A breath. “Don’t doubt yourself. I never have.”
He let his brother go and straightened.
Virgil was still staring at him. It wasn’t often John put so much into words, but the self-doubt in his brother’s eyes just demanded it. Perhaps it would have enough impact to sink in.
In the meantime, back to basics.
“Have you eaten?”
Virgil blinked. “What?”
Obviously not.
“Food, Virgil. Fuel for your engine.”
“Oh, uh...”
“I didn’t think so. C’mon, big brother, sustenance will help change your perspective.” John grabbed Virgil’s arm and nudged him in the direction of the module hatchway. Still staring, Virgil did as he was told.
“I’m the big brother, John.”
“Yeah? Well, sometimes big brothers need corralling as much as younger brothers. I thought you’d understand that with Scott on your radar so much.”
Virgil blinked. “I see your point.”
John held onto Virgil the entire elevator ride up to the residential levels. He didn’t let go until his brother was seated at the kitchen table. The acquisition of a simple sandwich and John plopped both the food and himself down in front of Virgil. “Now eat.”
“Are you going to watch my every bite?” A definite frown was forming like a storm cell on his brother’s brow.
“No, I’m just going to sit here and enjoy your company.” A thought. “Might even have a beer. You want one?” He stood up again and rummaged in the fridge.
Another blink. “Aren’t you going back up tonight? Doesn’t Brains need you?”
“No, I have more important things to attend to down here.” Ooh, some of Scott’s boutique beer. He eyed the label. Expensive boutique beer. It would do the job. Two bottles landed on the table.
“You know they are Scott’s.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Your funeral, I guess.”
“He’ll survive. Eat your sandwich.”
Virgil was staring at him again.
John sighed. “Is it really so shocking that I care about you?”
“No! It’s just...” Virgil’s shoulders settled a little. “Thank you, John.”
“No thanks needed, just trust yourself a little more.” He pinned his brother with his eyes. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now eat your sandwich.”
John held back a smile when Virgil immediately bit into his bread.
-o-o-o-
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Claire de Lune
YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort.
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine.
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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Men who are so emotionally constipated, or have been through enough trauma that they don't... exactly... do well with touch, but are extremely touch starved and crave love beyond anything else physical.
Men who suddenly gain an adorable S/O who is willing to do all that and more.
Men, who suddenly find themselves having someone to come home to every night; who find themselves lying beside said person every night; who's willing to hold them for as long as necessary when it gets difficult; who refuses to abandon them no matter the circumstance.
Boyfriends, who find it difficult to truly express themselves when they want to, and get frustrated whenever they have that difficulty.
Boyfriends who find their S/O so attractive that they can't help themselves, so they end up blurting out the thoughts that come to mind.
.
Boyfriends who become your husband because he made that same mistake one day, and scrambled to grab the ring.
(The same ring that had been sitting in his pocket for the last three months.)
--------------------
JJK: Gojo, Megumi,
ToRev: Hanma, KAZUTORA, Shinichiro, SANZU, Izana, Kokonoi
HSR: Blade, AVENTURINE, DANHENG,
Genshin: KAEYA, DILUC, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Xiao,
BNHA: Aizawa, TODOROKI, DABI,
Haikyuu: OIKAWA, Atsumu,
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Pro basketball player Steve seeing a video of Rockstar Eddie at a concert. A song starts and the crowd is yelling and Eddie reaches down with his free hand, grabs himself, and screams "suck my dick!"
Half the crowd yells it with him, the other half just fucking yells. Steve watches the video like seven fucking times, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer each time until he decides to do something stupid.
Rockstar Eddie scrolling mindlessly and seeing a video of himself on stage, so he clicks it only to watch himself scream "suck my dick!" Followed by a video of steve spliced after it. It's just his face, his hair is a fucking mess, his cheeks all pretty and pink and he looks fucking distraught as he says "just give me one chance. One fucking chance." And then he covers his face with his hands and snorts into them, laughing as the video cuts off.
Eddie's heart flutters as he watches it a few more times. Pretty Basketball Boy Steve fucking Harrington just posted a fucking video practically begging to suck his dick. Eddie smirks at his phone. Who is he to deny a pretty boy begging so sweetly? He goes to Steve's profile and types out a message. Dropping his phone on his stomach as he laughs.
Steve opens the message with shakey hands to see:
Shoot your shot pretty boy. 🏀😉
It takes Steve half an hour, but he send back a restaurant name and a time. His palms sweating, cheeks hot.
Eddie answers immediately with:
It's a date. See you there sweetheart.
Steve falls face forward onto his bed, for once in his life thankful for his lack of impulse control.
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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