#the ends of the earth (and beyond) that she went to for simon

[jackfuckingtwist]

i havent been able to stop thinking about merilwen all day and the fact that like….as a druid hunter/trapper she is very familiar with and accepting of death, especially as a natural process……………….up until the point it happens to somebody she cares about

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Four)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: The wedding is here!!!!

Thank you once again to everyone showing love to this story. It’s nowhere near done but my brain is getting antsy. I have like a billion Ghost stories I wanna write, some I've started already, some mere ideas in my pesky brain. I’d love to hear which ones you guys are most interested in first. I can’t list all of my ideas here because it would take too long but some of the ones I’m doing are;

-Ghost/OC/Soap story. MC is on the task force.

-I don’t wanna call it an alpha/omega story because the MC is human, but it's kinda along those lines with mates and stuff. But it falls into obsessive Ghost and reluctant (at first) MC. If you think this Ghost is pussy whipped for Lottie then… lmao just wait and see bby.

-a sunshine/grumpy trope story. Ghost absolutely wants nothing to do with her but she's so cute and ridiculous and happy and she worms her way in anyway >:)

-mediaeval ish story. MC is the princess, Ghost is a knight.  

-an actual alpha/omega story. Our poor little omega is traumatised and Ghostie takes care of her.

-Zombie AU story. Deals with some pretty dark and depressing shit.

I have more ideas but those are the ones pinging around my brain the most and some I’ve already started. Don’t be shy to let me know.

The wedding dress and the lingerie for reference.

I actually managed to pick a song that wasn’t the usual bands lmao My brain allowed it because good ol’ Greg here is the singer from The Dillinger Escape plan, who I believe our Ghostie listens to lololol

Greg Puciato - Heaven of Stone

In the earth below with

Nowhere else to go

I know that we'll belong

Set free from all the wrongs

In eternal gardens

Fallen flowers grow

I've held you all along

In heavens made of stone

‘Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.’ Simon tried to remember who said that, if he remembered right, it was Aristotle. Made sense though, didn’t it? Maybe that's why he’d spent most of his life miserable, feeling cold and empty like a haunted house. Maybe that was why he always felt like something was missing. He’d been only half of a soul, floating around like a wraith, trying to find his other half. Now he’d found her, had her stumble right into his life and now he knew he could never look back. He felt whole, he felt complete, he felt like everything was right and the world made sense.

Despite these feelings, he was greedily sucking nicotine from a smoke, his second in  less than fifteen minutes, as he sat perched on the wall outside of the courthouse. To say he was feeling nervous would have been a gross understatement. He wasn't having cold feet, in fact Tommy had been stunned by the lack of cold feet he’d shown all morning. He’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life, he knew he wanted her to be his wife. But he was nervous for a lot of other things, the variables in this scenario, the things beyond his control. Just as he hated that bullshit out on the battlefield, he hated it in his personal life. He loved to be in control, it meant he was less likely to get hurt, a feeling he’d been subjected to far too much as a child. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again. 

What if she was the one having cold feet? What if she decided she didn't want to marry a tosser like him? What if she decided she didn't want marriage at all? What if she decided she was bored of him and that she didn't want to be with him full stop? What if she didn't turn up? What if he went home and all her stuff was gone? What if, what if, what if? Too many thoughts, too many feelings and he was trying to calm himself down by chain smoking. 

“You're gonna get lung cancer before she even gets here at this rate,” Tommy huffed from next to him, snatching the pack of smokes out of his hand and pocketing them. Simon glared at him, stubbing out the end of his cig before flicking it into the bin not too far away. 

“I’m fine,” he grouched and Tommy eyed his leg that was anxiously bouncing before raising a smug brow at him. “Fuck off,” he huffed and Tommy snorted.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Si,” he murmured and Simon ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Lottie would be here soon and he wished she’d just turn up early, to see if she would in fact turn up or if his life was about to quickly go down the shitter. 

“What if she doesn't turn up?” he asked, his voice so quiet with the shame of his admission. Tommy glanced at him, a sympathetic smile on his face as he clapped Simon on the back.

“She will turn up,” his simple answer just annoyed him and he heaved a sigh, glaring at him. “She thinks the world of you, Simon, anyone with eyes can see that. She’ll turn up. If anything, she’s probably panicking just as much as you right now. Probably convinced herself you won't be here,” Tommy said quietly and Simon knew he wasn't wrong. He knew his girl so well and she was probably working herself into an even bigger tizzy than he was. He just hated this anxiety, hated being away from her like this. He knew she loved him, his nerves were just getting the best of him. 

Tommy’s phone dinged and he glanced at it, grinning before he stood up.

“Come on, arse wipe, up you get. They’re on their way,” he beamed at him. 

Relief flooded his system then, knowing she was coming after all, Beth and his mum in tow after helping her get ready. He wondered just what she’d look like walking down the small aisle of the courthouse. 

He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, just a simple black and white suit that he’d worn to Tommy’s wedding. He’d contemplated getting something fancier, something just for this occasion, but Charlotte had told him to do what he wanted, whatever was comfortable for him so this is what he chose. He wasnt much of a suit person to begin with and he didn’t want to waste money on something that made him so fucking uncomfortable. He felt he scrubbed up decent enough anyway. 

He followed his baby brother into the courthouse to await his bride and his stomach felt like there were a million roaches inside, all squirming around trying to get out. He felt sick, breathing slowly so he didn’t fucking pass out and make a right knob of himself while he waited at the end of the aisle. The officiant was an older man, a kind face who had been nothing but nice and polite to the boys since they arrived. They all stood waiting for the girls to arrive. 

There wouldn't be music, the wedding march or anything of the like as she walked in. They could have requested it but she’d said no. He'd been a little surprised that she wanted a bare bones wedding like this but he hadn’t minded at all. He tended to agree with her though, weddings were shite. He just wanted to marry her. 

He heard the door start to open and he stood taller, as if standing to attention in front of his commanding officer. As the doors fully opened, he felt like all the breath got stolen from his lungs. The feeling was so reminiscent of when they first met and he never would have thought back then that he’d wind up making her his wife. 

She was an absolute vision and his throat constricted painfully as he couldn't stop staring at her, eyes unblinking, not wanting to miss anything. The dress suited her perfectly, the lace as delicate as she was and he felt his eyes prickling with unshed tears as the emotion overflowed inside of him. His mum was linking arms with her, giving her away as she had no parents of her own. He remembered how hard Lottie had cried when his mum had offered, remembered how he himself had cried no matter how embarrassing it might have been. 

Beth was behind them, holding the train of the dress in one hand, the other arm having an almost one year old Joseph perched on her hip. He was wearing fucking suit and everything. Little man looked proper dapper. 

His mum led Charlotte to him and his girl was staring at him with wide eyes and a tentative smile. After a pat to the arm off his teary mum, she sat down with Tommy, Beth and little Jo following along. He couldn't take his eyes off Lottie though as they stared at each other. Her brown waves were up in some braided updo thing, a few waves framing her face. She was perfect.

“You look like an angel, love,” he whispered reverently, his voice thick with emotion as he grasped her hands. She blushed, that pink looking so pretty on her face as she smiled shyly. Always acted like he was complimenting her for the first time. He never tired of making her blush, he loved that he could still have that effect on her. 

“You look so handsome, Si,” she murmured, making those moon eyes at him as if he’d hung the moon himself. Fuck, he wished he did. He’d do anything she asked of him no matter how impossible the task. 

He wanted to keep going on about how beautiful she was, wanted to kiss the gloss of her perfect lips, wanted to do a lot of things, but then the officiant started speaking.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Charlotte and Simon in marriage. This ceremony marks the beginning of their journey together as husband and wife,” he started and Simon felt the anticipation thrumming through his entire being. His eyes were still glued to his girl, even when he heard his mothers sniffle from her seat. 

“Charlotte and Simon, today you come before us to express your love and commitment to one another. Before we proceed, do you both affirm that it is your intention to enter into this marriage willingly and with full understanding of its significance?” he asked and Charlotte smiled up at Simon in a way that rendered his heart to mush.

"We do," they both answered and it made his lips tug up as he squeezed her soft hands gently.

“Excellent. Charlotte and Simon, marriage is a sacred bond, a union founded on love, respect, and mutual trust. It is a promise to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges. It is a commitment to support and uplift one another, to cherish and nurture your relationship each and every day. Now, Charlotte, please share your vows with Simon,” the officiant said with a warm smile. 

He could tell she was nervous, felt her hands trembling against his own. He expected her to pull out a piece of paper with her vows on, like his own that he’d stuffed in his pocket. Vows he’d agonised over and rewrote a billion and one times because no words could ever be able to sum up what he wanted to say to her. She didn't seem to need to read her vows though, apparently she had it all stored in her head.

“Simon… from the moment I met you, I knew there was something special about you. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I’m grateful for every moment we've shared together. You’ve changed me as a person, for the better. Made me see I’m worthy of being loved. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me but I’d love to spend the rest of our lives trying,” she started with a wobbly voice and shiny eyes. His chest felt heavy, like a weight bearing down on him as he suppressed the urge to cry like a right mard arse. He gave her a watery smile and she gripped his hands tighter. 

“I promise to stand by your side through thick and thin. I promise to support you, to encourage you, and to be your partner in all things. I vow to listen to you with an open heart, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to comfort you in times of sorrow. I choose you today and every day for the rest of our lives,” she murmured earnestly and he had to blink rapidly to quell the onslaught of tears threatening to break through. 

“Thank you, Charlotte. Now, Simon, please share your vows with Charlotte,” the officiant smiled. 

Simon swallowed thickly, one of his hands leaving Lottie’s so he could retrieve the little piece of paper in his breast pocket with a trembling hand. His breathing was shaky and he tried to calm himself, didn't want his voice to crack.

“Charlotte, from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with…” he hated how close to tears he sounded, how the lump in his throat got bigger with each word leaving his mouth. Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, bringing the hand she still held up to her mouth and placing a tender kiss to his knuckles. “You’re my best friend, my confidante, and my soulmate. Today, in front of our family, I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in all your dreams and endeavours, and to always be there for you. I promise to cherish you, to respect you, and to honour you for the incredible person you are. I’m so grateful to call you my partner, and I vow to spend the rest of my days makin’ you happy,” he choked out, stuffing the paper back in his pocket before wiping his eyes quickly. The officiant looked at Tommy then and he hopped up, fishing around in his pocket before grabbing the two rings, handing them to both he and Lottie. “As Charlotte and Simon exchange these rings, they are symbolising the commitment and love they have pledged to one another. These rings are more than mere adornments; they are a visible representation of the promises and vows made here today. Charlotte, as you place this ring on Simon's finger, may it serve as a constant reminder of your love, loyalty, and devotion. Let it be a symbol of the unbreakable bond you share and a promise of your commitment to him,” the officiant said, gesturing to Charlotte and she smiled up at Simon, a heart melting smile before she slid the ring on his finger with the utmost care.

“Simon, as you place this ring on Charlotte's finger, may it be a symbol of your eternal love and unwavering dedication. Let it be a reminder of the promises you've made and a testament to the love that will continue to grow between you,” Simon’s thumb brushed over her finger before he slid the ring on, giving her hand a squeeze as he gazed down at her adoringly. 

“May these rings forever signify the love and unity you share as husband and wife. With this exchange, your lives are forever intertwined, and your journey together as partners begins anew. And now, by the power vested in me by the City of Manchester, I am honoured to pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Simon wasted no time, gripping either side of Lottie’s face and leaning down, capturing her lips quickly. He’d wanted to do nothing but kiss her since she’d turned up. He kept it tame, he did have an audience after all, he he tried he pour all of his love, all of his emotion into the kiss. When he pulled away, her cheeks were aflame, amusement dancing behind her pretty blue eyes as she smiled at him.

“I love you,” she murmured and he felt himself melting all over again.

“I love you too… Mrs Riley,” he smirked and her smile widened.

They stayed a little longer to sign all the forms to actually be married before they all left the courthouse. Not before his mother had clung to him, weeping into his chest at how proud she was, how fucking happy he was for him. Made his heart feel like it had grown three sizes seeing his poor mum like that about him. 

Much to Tommy’s chagrin, there wouldn't be a reception. Charlotte hadn't really wanted one and if he was honest, neither did he. All he could think about as he looked at his new wife in that dress was wanting to get her home and getting inside of her. Before they left, his mum was adamant on getting some pictures that she could print off so they’d posed for her outside of the courthouse and he didn't think he’d ever had a picture taken of him smiling quite like this.

They’d gotten congratulations from the taxi driver on their way home after parting ways with his family and Simon felt his chest puff with pride that Lottie was now his wife. His other half. She was fully his and he felt like he was on top of the world. She seemed so happy, smiling and giggling as he told her shitty jokes on the way home, clutching his arm as they made their way inside and into the lift. 

As they walked down the hallway of their apartment, he scooped her up bridal style, making her squeal before she started laughing, gripping around his neck as if she thought he’d drop her. As if he ever would. He was smiling so fucking hard his cheeks hurt and he was sure he probably looked fucking psychotic at this point. He couldn't help it though, he’d never felt happiness quite like this, never thought he would. Hadn’t thought he deserved it. Yet here she was, beautiful and sweet Charlotte, giving him every drop of love she had in her entire being and he wouldn't waste a single bit of it. 

He carried her through the threshold, gently placing her on her feet as they got indoors and he shut the door behind her. His eyes turned hungry then as he gazed at her, eyes trailing over her in that fucking dress, looking like some angel sent from heaven to tempt him. 

He stepped towards her and the look in his eyes had her stepping back until her back hit the door, lips parted, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at him. He rested his hands either side of her on the door, caging her in, knowing she loved his size and loved feeling helpless around him, little minx she was. 

He trailed his nose along her delicate throat with a hum and she let out a soft noise that had his hard dick aching in his pants. He placed a wet and open mouthed kiss on her pulse point, making her moan quietly before he leaned back up to look at her with his blazing eyes. 

“You look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” he purred and she smiled, a delighted flash glinting in her eyes. 

“Be careful of the dress, it's a rental,” she smirked, making him snort softly.

“That’s a shame, wanted to fuck you in it,” he muttered wickedly, loving how she swallowed thickly, squirming where she stood. 

“I have something better… you should take the dress off,” she murmured, looking at him all coy like and batting her lashes. 

He was intrigued and horny so he did what he was told like a good husband, moving his hands from the door to around her waist. She gasped as he pulled her flush to his chest, her hands splaying on him as she blinked up at him. His large hand slid around to her back, finding the zip and unzipping it slowly, slow enough to make her shift impatiently. 

Once the zip was completely down, his hands trailed in a featherlight touch up to her shoulders, pulling down the dainty straps there. He tugged the dress down, revealing lingerie he hadn't expected underneath. His movements became a little faster now, pulling the dress until it pooled around her ankles and he let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening. 

“You dress up for me, angel?” he asked in a mere whisper and her blush swept up her chest to her face as she nodded shyly. What a fucking sight she was like this, white lingerie with delicate straps and flowers adorning her. She’d been right, it was better than the wedding dress. His hands slid up her hips to her waist and he leaned down, nuzzling her nose with his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Charlotte,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and feeling her smile against him.

“You like it?” she asked almost meekly and maybe it shouldn't have made his dick even harder, but it did.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he replied breathlessly. 

He trailed hot and wet kisses from her mouth, down her jaw and to her neck, lavishing it with attention, just how she liked it. She let out a breathy moan and he groaned in response, pulling her closer to him as his hands slid around to her arse. It was then he realised the lingerie was a thong and her perfect arse cheeks were on display for him. A growl rumbled in his chest as he gave them a firm squeeze, and she moaned a little louder this time. 

“On the bed, love,” he ordered, pulling himself away from her painfully. He needed to get out of his fucking clothes so he could have his way with her before his dick fell off. She flashed him a pretty smile before they both made their way to the bedroom and she sauntered over to the bed. He watched her lay on her side, watching him with rapt attention as he started to undress. His lips tugged into a smirk at her blatant ogling so he made sure to take his time as he unbuttoned his shirt before peeling it off, his pants soon to follow. 

Once he was finally free of his constraints, he made a beeline for the bed and Charlotte rolled onto her back waiting for him. He climbed on, parting her thighs and groaning in delight at the view of her soaked cunt behind the sheer white material. 

“Look at you, all wet and ready for me already like a good little wife,” he drawled and he didn't miss how her breathing hitched at his words. Her pupils were blown wide as she watched him keenly and he slid his hands up the inside of her thighs slowly, loving how soft her skin was. He could feel her shaking with anticipation, his cock twitching at how she arched her back, trying to get closer to him. 

He couldn't tear his eyes off her, he loved her so much it felt like it caused him physical pain sometimes. He leaned down, kissing every morsel of skin he could that poked out of her body suit, worshipping her body like the goddess she was. Fucking hell, he’d give his life to her, devote everything he had in him to her. 

She was writhing under his touch, at every flutter of his lips against her skin, every brush of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. He was reverent with every touch as he made his way up her body, paying extra attention to her neck and getting a lovely moan from her. 

His lips finally claimed hers and she was so desperate for him that he felt like he might spill his load without being touched. How had he gotten so lucky? What on earth had he done to deserve such a beauty in his life that was the radiance she exuded? She was absolutely everything to him, the beginning and the end, completing him like the puzzle piece he’d spent his life searching for. 

“What?” she asked shyly and he realised then he’d stopped kissing her and was just looking at her with those soft eyes he had, only for her. He felt heat bloom high on his cheeks, in the top of his ears and she noticed because she smiled warmly at him, her fingers caressing the back of his neck lovingly. 

“I just… I love you. Never thought I’d have this,” he admitted quietly and her eyes softened, her smile widening. 

“I love you too,” she fluttered a pretty smile at him, pulling him back down and massaging her lips against his. 

He melted into her, his hand trailing down her body like some sacred object before it brushed her dripping cunt over her underwear. She gasped and he moaned, practically salivating over how needy her body was being. Part of him wanted to go all out, fuck her with his fingers, lick her pussy until she was a shaking mess, but he couldn’t. Seeing her in this pretty white lingerie, seeing her in that dress, seeing her with his ring on her finger, branding her as his… It was too much. He needed her so badly he was sure he’d die. 

He hooked his finger in the string of her underwear, dragging it from where it lay over her cunt and arse, pulling it to the side to sit in the crease of her thigh. He gripped his aching cock, rubbing against her soaked heat and she let out a needy noise that had his blood running hot. 

He sunk into her with a loud groan of relief, her own moan bleeding into his. He bottomed out deliciously and she had that pretty look on her face that told him he was filling her tight little cunt up to the brim, filling her up good. The hand beside her head was used for leverage, his other winding around her lower back to angle her better and keep her as close as possible before he started rutting into her. 

If he wasnt half gone with lust, he might have felt sorry for the neighbours as his pretty little wife started keening, clawing at his shoulders as he fucked the soul out of her, trying to claim it for his own. The legs of the bed squeaked, the headboard slamming into the wall and the room was full of obscene sounds. Their moans, the sound of their skin slapping together as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

He wanted to tell her she was his now, belonged to him in every way possible, wanted to tell her she wouldn't be leaving him ever, not if he had anything to do with it. He wanted to say a lot of things but his mouth could do little else but moan like a needy whore at the pleasure he felt. She was divine, being with her like this was a holy experience for him and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire. 

His lips crashed to hers and the kiss was messy, desperate as they both clawed and pawed at each other, chasing a release that felt higher than any other. Her hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to her as she tangled her tongue with his and he could feel the cold metal of her ring on his skin, a reminder of how she willingly gave herself over to him today. They were no longer separate souls, two halves separated into two bodies. They were joined in union, tied together forever. He’d follow her even after death if it came to it. 

He angled his hips just right, brushing that spot inside of her and pressing against her clit with his public bone and the noise she let out would make a porn star blush.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he moaned, struggling to hold into his sanity as her cunt fluttered around him 

“Don’t stop,” she choked out, her pale cheeks flushed red, irises nowhere in sight as her eyes were overtaken by her pupils. Her voice was pleading, bordering on desperate as she clung to him like she might float off the earth if she didn't. 

He didn't stop, he kept his brutal pace, sweat trickling down his temple with the effort it was taking to not fill her up, not yet. He felt the moment she came, felt her pussy grip him so tightly he was worried she’d cut off his blood supply. It felt like she was trying to suck him inside of her, trying to consume him and he’d let her. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan, guttural and primal as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum inside of her, over and over. He felt like he'd never cum that much in his life. 

They both lay there, panting and sweaty and he tried not to squash her as they came down from their highs. His lips found hers, the kiss tender, slow, loving. Her hand was on his cheek, soft and sweet and it made his chest feel tight. When he pulled away, she was radiant, glowing from the inside out as she blinked her pretty eyes at him. 

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” she murmured and it made the tightness in his chest worse. 

He couldn't fathom being something someone wanted, that someone would be lucky to have him. But he knew she meant it, down to her fucking bones and god if it didn’t feel good. If it didn't make him feel like he could do anything when she looked at him so lovingly. He felt like he could take on the world. He was the lucky one and he knew that, to have such a loving partner, now wife, to have someone with so much love inside of her, all to himself. 

She’d raised herself, had been starved of love and basic human decency for most of her life and she’d turned out perfect. She’d raised herself and done it right and it made Simon feel like he could take on his own demons. If she could come out of the other side burning brighter than the sun, then so could he. 

They would chase each other's demons away, make the shadows crawl back to wherever they came from. She lit him up from the inside out and it made him feel warm. Made him feel like he was actually living and not just existing. Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies and he refused to part from her now he found her.

[transformersbrainrot]

I'm really loving this discussion and have a lot of thoughts, so I'm just gonna respond point by point.

So, first off, I should clarify that I read IDW1 in a really weird order, so that might have colored my perception of things. I first read Last Stand of the Wreckers as a one-off in like 2021 when I was first getting back into Transformers since I was a kid, then like 3 months ago, I started MTMTE. I got about 15 issues into that (up until Overlord breaks out and Rewind dies (well, kind of, but we don't need to get into that)) Then I had the same thought you did when you read issue one (granted, it took longer bc I was more familiar with the franchise as a whole) and decided to stop and binge-read the TPBs. I also was not going in blind WHATSOEVER because I'd been on TF Tumblr for the past 3 years, and I'm sure you know how that goes. Ok, now on to actually responding to what you said.

I remember strongly disliking Verity Carlo, especially annoying and boring at times. I think this was mostly due to reading the comics in the recommended order, which starting of with Megatron Origins puts you in the expectation of seeing more of the war on Cybertron rather than the jump to Earth. As the issues went on and the humans started showing up less, I found myself missing them. The appreciation I grew for Verity, Hunter, and Jimmy came too late, like many emotions for Phase one.

Basically, I wholeheartedly agree with this, although I found them to be more boring than annoying. Also, I had already seen Last Stand Verity, so I knew she got better,

I found myself jumping with joy when I saw Verity again in The Last Stand of The Wreckers, surprising even myself. And really appreciating the little callbacks to her in Phase two before meeting her again. I loved the relationship between Hunter O'nion, Sunstreaker and the Headmasters, the whole ark being one of my favorites.

I totally agree with the stuff you're saying about callbacks; those never fail to get a Leonardo-DiCaprio-pointing reaction out of me, haha. However, I definitely found the whole -ations/pre-All Hail Megatron era to be the most tedious to read. That just comes down to personal preference, though. (I mean, all of this does, of course, but there's no real analytical reasoning here; I just thought it was kinda dull.) Maybe I'm just not a fan of Simon Furman's writing style, I dunno.

Other human characters like Spike weren't really hitting it at all, mainly because we didn't see much of them or if we did it left no impact. The only thing I remember about Spike in those comics is the way he disappointed Prowl with his reasonable reserve for the autobots and not considering him a friend.

Spike is also the only Phase 1 human I could name off the top of my head outside of the original trio. Also, I have an (admittedly undeserved) tendency to give Prowl way more grace than he deserves. Honestly, I have one for basically every morally grey or even evil cybertronian character. I just want all my robots to be friends and am willing to forgive A LOT to make that happen :(. All that to say, I was FULLY on Prowl's side against Spike about the whole Scrapper incident and the resulting fallout (even if Spike might've maayybee had a little bit of tiny possible justification).

Despite all that, Phase one gives context for later events and relationships mentioned in Phase two, making it much easier to understand what events the characters are referring to. I actually went for MTMTE when I began the comics, and the moment I read the first issue, I felt left out of a lot, especially as a new transformers fan with no knowledge beyond Transformers Prime. Going through Phase one first helped me meet the whole list of characters I had no knowledge of before.

Ok, so like I said at the top, I had a fairly similar chain of events. But honestly, that's part of why I made the original post. Most of the war stories referenced by characters at the end of Phase One/throughout Phase Two (Simanzi, Sherma Bridge, Hell's Point, basically everything else Rewind showed Tailgate.) were never actually shown. It felt like as long as you knew, "Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!" You had all the context you needed. I also feel that I should reiterate that I don't think that applies to Megatron Origin, Last Stand of the Wreckers, or the final volume of the Phase One TPB (Heart of Darkness (🤢) through Chaos). Those are all still required readings for IDW1, in my opinion.

With Phase one in mind, it's easier to understand characters and their motivations in Phase two. For example, I loved Cyclonus since he was introduced in Phase one, and later in MTMTE and LL, I would get as frustrated as him when someone called him a decepticon, probably even more.

I have to disagree here, if only because most of the relevant characters to Phases 2 and 3 are incredibly minor players or straight-up haven't been introduced yet in 90% of Phase One. The Cyclonus thing would be a good point if it wasn't for the fact that the whole Dead Universe crew is referred to as Decepticons for everything from Infestation (when Kup gets sucked into the DU) until after Chaos. So Cyclonus correcting people kind of clarifies it for the reader as much as it did the other characters, anyway.

When Megatron "turned" autobot, I was as angry as characters like Prowl with the sentencing he got. Because I remembered all the decepticons, autobots, and humans that died directly because of his actions.

Redeemed Megatron is honestly the reason I wanted to read MTMTE/IDW in the first place (thank you, Earthspark), so this was something I just didn't really run into and can't really speak on. Fair, though.

Speaking of Megatron, one of my favorite things is seeing the parallels and references between panels. A favorite example are these panels with Verity seeing Megatron for the first time and Mehr seeing Ultra Magus' holoform of Verity:

Again, while I certainly enjoy these moments, I don't know if they justify reading seven years of comics.

There is also the build up of Phase one to Phase two. If you read just Phase two you hear about the DJD and then get to meet them. Sure, they look badass but if you've been reading Phase one they are a tool that haunts the narrative whenever decepticons speaks about going against orders and autobots speaking about the worst of the worst from the decepticons.

I honestly can't think of a time the DJD was mentioned in Phase One aside from maayybee Last Stand (which, again, I consider required reading anyway). As for when the Autobots talk about the worst of the Decepticons, like I said before, most of what they mention isn't from Phase One anyway, so there's no real added impact, in my opinion.

P.C. I think why people like Phase two better is because it's more character focused, we get to be with these mechs up close and personal. While in Phase one, it's more events based and we get up close and personal with the characters in the Spot Light issues.

This 100%. I'm absolutely convinced that the switch from Plot-Driven stories to Character-Driven ones is why no one really talks about any IDW comics before Chaos Theory.

Sorry early IDW enjoyers but that universe doesn't hit it's stride until Chaos Theory

Idk if there's many TFIDW Phase One die hards but I'd you're out there y'all can fight me on this. There's good stuff in there for sure (LSOT, Spotlight Kup, AHM, etc). But honestly the majority of it ranges from Pretty Solid to Genuinely Awful (looking at you Heart of Darkness). I think it's worth reading but imo you can read LSOT then skip to Space Opera (Hot Rod trying to get back to Earth with the Matrix) and go from there for just as good of an experience.

[jasontodding]

i really have never seen anything quite like the power of fandom continuing to show up and make excuses for absolute pos male characters because they’re objectively ~~attractive.

ohhhhh poor nick goode !! so pressured by his family’s expectations !!! if you read between the lines deep down he obviously still loved ziggy !!!

like…. my god. i shipped them too in 1978, but that was before we found out that he and his entire family knowingly lived off a deal their ancestor made that continuously sacrificed people year after year from the “wrong side of town”, all in the name of keeping sunnyvale the quintessential seat of wealth and prosperity.

that abundance was built off the literal blood sacrifice of people who unwillingly lost their lives all because the greed of one bloodline. because solomon goode wanted more.

nick was 110% content to let things continue on as they were- dooming hundreds of ordinary citizens to lifetimes of bad luck and misery and tragedy, all so his own family could selfishly continue to prosper like they had for years. ziggy probably lived for years with what had happened at camp nightwing weighing on her. the paranoia, the drinking, the obsessiveness- all signs of major PTSD. you don’t let someone you love live like that. ziggy saw her sister die in front of her, sacrificing herself because cindy thought she could stop the curse and give her sister a good life- a life of freedom from the “curse” they all believed sara fier put on shadyside. he brought her back to life, he wanted her. wanted her with a kind of selfishness that let her live in a nightmare long after the ambulance drove her out of camp nightwing. because she told him it was the curse, and was probably so hurt when nothing came of it. when everyone just assumed tommy went crazy, killed his girlfriend and a bunch of others. she probably felt broken and betrayed and a thousand other things, on top of living with the memory of the flashes of knowledge she received when her blood dripped onto sarah’s hand bone- stuff she didn’t even fully understand. nick could’ve validated her. nick could’ve supported her, backed her up. but nick said absolutely nothing. nick did nothing. NICK CHOSE TO SAY AND DO NOTHING, because in reality, he knew it was all realer than real- knew that his own ancestor was the originator of the curse, that the goode family kept it going from solomon up until then and even beyond that afterwards.

in 1978, ziggy said to him, “do you believe me?”. and he looked her right in the eye, while fellow campers, innocent people were being murdered and said “yes”, knowing FULL WELL HIS FAMILY WAS THE REASON THOSE CHILDREN WERE BEING SLAUGHTERED. just because they were deemed a necessary sacrifice to continue the unceasing prosperity of sunnyvale, and had the bad luck of being from the shadyside. while she was covered in blood and begging him to believe her, he already knew what was happening and why.

maybe some part of nick faltered at the sheer violence and carnage his family wreaked over time. maybe he had times where he doubted everything that was happening- but the fact is, people died because of him and his family. cindy died. but ziggy made it. becuause ziggy was pretty, because he liked her, because he thought she was different than the other people from shadyside, the ones he and his family deemed as expendable for their own gain.

but it’s like the widow said- making a deal with the devil is a CHOICE.

nick lived in the wealth his bloodline provided him. nothing that was earned, just built off the literal blood sacrifice of others. nick CHOSE to continue that. he wasn’t asking probing questions to deena, sam, simon, kate, and josh because he wanted to get down to the truth of what really happened- BECAUSE HE ALREADY KNEW. he just wanted to know how close they were to the truth. the truth of how much blood was on his and his family’s hands.

he called deena a d*ke, would’ve ended ziggy no matter how much of a crush he had on her, just to continue the whole frickin’ thing. to keep it going. he was just as selfish and greedy as solomon was.

nick goode was evil, but he had a pretty face, right? so viewers will keep searching for a reason for even a modicum of good in him. young nick and ziggy were adorable, so people can’t accept that he CHOSE to hurt her. like ziggy would ever fucking be okay with this man getting away with it all- she may have liked nick, but she LOVED her sister.

stop doing ziggy a disservice by trying to find some sort of overly multidimensional spin on nick. i’ll admit, i had a moment after i finished all 3 movies where i was like, damn, it sucks ziggy and nick didn’t make it, they had chemistry. and then i wanted to slap my hand on my forehead, because i was completely missing the point. fear street has an unexpected beauty to it because of the love characters have for each other- deena and josh, cindy and ziggy, sara and hannah, etc. it’s unselfish and pure and stubborn and all encompassing, it drives them and those characters would do so much for the ones they love.

nick’s “love” for ziggy, if you can even call it that, was not that type of life. it was selfish, and it was based on lies. even though she had a prickly exterior, ziggy obviously cared for others- hell, sheila strung her up and burned her and she still went back and risked her life to help her. nick presented as if he was also that way, as well as an outsider in his own life, someone who didn’t fit in. and maybe nick didn’t. maybe nick really struggled deep down with the curse. but in the end, nick made choices. just like solomon made the choice to deal with the devil, nick chose to let ziggy live in self-doubt and fear. nick chose to be selfish, to protect his family’s own interests.

you can still have chemistry with people who suck, that’s the catch of life. monsters can have attractive faces too. but to try to dive deep into nick’s character like he was eternally stuck as the conflicted teenage boy who wasn’t sure if he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, even when he held a gun to ziggy’s head… ugh.

stop making excuses for the fucked up shit male characters do. they may look good, they may have been possible love interests, but why on god’s earth would you blatantly ignore the fact that someone like nick CHOOSE to continue the cycle solomon started so many years ago??

why is it so important to find reasons to explain away nick’s abhorrent behaviour? because teen nick and ziggy were cute? you can acknowledge that but still be able to point out nick’s deceit, his selfishness.

idk man this phenomenon is… troubling to say the least.

[marwritesgood]

Just Me | S. Basset

Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader

Timeframe: Early Season One

Summary: Simon and Y/n had a long history together. So why did it take reading Lady Whistledown’s latest column for her to learn about his blooming relationship with Daphne Bridgerton?

masterlist

A/N: This fic is over 6K words. 

The mere thought of a BIPOC love story set in the 18th Century is enough to make me swoon. So I decided to give it a go and write one myself. There’ll be two more parts after this :)

I also wanted to keep the reader description applicable to any and all women of colour, so it’s a bit vague just to ensure all of us (women of colour) can feel included. Please let me know if there any parts of this fic that don’t do this and I’ll fix it asap! 

If you’re white, this fic is not for you to identify with x

Also, if at any point you find my attempt at mimicking the language used in Bridgerton laughable... you are not the only one lmao. This has been super fun to write and also very challenging, but I am well aware it is farrrr from perfect :)

Nonetheless, I hope it’s a nice read for my WOC readers <3

Simon and Y/n first met when they were children. Her mother was very closely acquainted with Lady Danbury, so naturally, a friendship grew between the two of them- and a strong one at that. 

For years, their interactions had remained within confinements of what was socially acceptable. They bickered. They laughed. They shared inside jokes about the people within their social circle. Their feelings for each other never extended beyond what was befitting of a friendship. 

That was until they grew older.

When marriage and love became more and more ingrained into casual conversations, Simon and Y/n explored their feelings for one another. Questioned the extent to which they cared for each other and whether there was something more beneath the surface.

However, just as Y/n came to realise her love for Simon, he left for London. After a few short weeks, he returned with a new title. A new vow that the Hastings bloodline would end with him. Subsequently, with it, any hope Y/n had of her relationship with him becoming anything more than all it had always been: a friendship.

A year had passed since the sorrowful conversation resulting in Simon and Y/n agreeing to not indulge in the affections they shared. Since then, Y/n struggled to focus on securing a marriage proposal from one of the suitors in her town.

“This is your second season,” Y/n’s mother cried as she paced across the sitting room. Y/n sat in silence, having been interrupted from playing the piano by another one of her panicked outbursts. “Your second season and yet you continue to reject every marriage proposal you receive.”

She couldn’t blame her mother for being frustrated with her. As her only daughter, she needed to find a good match and be married off as soon as possible. Her father was of old age, but even he remained restless that Y/n be married. He much preferred the prospect of dying knowing that the estate would be inherited by Y/n’s husband instead of his nephew.

“I did not reject Mr Graham’s proposal, mama,” Y/n responded, unnervingly calmly considering how distraught her mother was. Mr Graham’s proposal was the latest one she had received that season. “I... simply asked for more time to consider my answer.”

“What on earth is there to consider?” Mrs Y/l/n shrieked. Her frustration only grew when her daughter was unable to answer her question. Y/n turned away from her mother. “He is a good man. He comes from a good, honourable family and will give you a good future- something you will not have if you continue to turn away suitors.”

“Mama, please.” Y/n could not say anything more, for fear that her mother’s anger toward her would only grow if she were to find out the truth. The real reason she could not yet bring herself to accept a marriage proposal.

“Why do you need time to consider, Y/n?” Her daughter had stood up from behind the piano and had her back turned to her mother. That did not stop her from continuing to pry. After so many rejected proposals, she felt she had a right to know why her daughter refused to marry. “I beg of you, tell me- what is there to consider?... What could possibly be keeping you from marrying Mr Graham.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Y/n sighed exasperatedly and turned back to face her mother.

“I do not love him,” Y/n replied in a hushed cry, only just loud enough for Mrs Y/l/n to hear from across the room. “He may be a good man, mama, but I... I do not love him, and I do not believe I ever could.”

She knew from their first encounter that she could never love him. Perhaps it was how he mispronounced her grandmother’s name or the way he possessed the same arrogance as every other suitor Y/n encountered. 

“My dear,” Mrs Y/l/n said, her voice and expression softening entirely. She reached out for her daughter’s hand and took hold of it gently. She knew precisely how Y/n felt, which meant that, unfortunately, she knew there was nothing to be done. “We have talked about this. Women like you and I... we do not have the luxury to make decisions based on our own feelings.”

Y/n was surrounded by women who did not share the same experiences she did. Women who could not empathise with the challenges she faced and being a woman in the 18th Century. Not even if they tried.

Therefore, whenever Y/n found herself hoping for the same things as the white women around her, she had to bring herself back to reality. She had to remember that if life was unkind to white women, it would always be hell for women like her, no matter who married into the royal family.

“I know,” Y/n answered. 

She did. She knew it was incredibly reckless of her to reject all of the proposals she had received. She knew she was naïve for basing her decision based on love. Yet, even so, she could not keep herself from holding out on the hope that she would not end up in a loveless marriage.

“I do not mean to upset you, Y/n,” Mrs Y/l/n said sincerely, as she guided her daughter to the nearest seat. “But I fear that if you continue on, you will have no more proposals to reject, and I... I simply cannot bear the thought... Please, dear, you must-”

Y/n began to close her eyes ready to brace herself for what she feared would inevitably happen- her mother insisting she accepts a proposal. However, just as she did, a maid knocked on the door and promptly brought in the newspaper. When Simon left for London, Y/n requested that any newspaper copy or mail sent to her from London be immediately handed to her. She looked forward to any kind of update on him.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to the maid as she handed her the newspaper. Without hesitation, she immediately turned to Lady Whistledown’s column.

“What does it say?” Her mother asked, giving up on her attempts at convincing Y/n to accept a marriage proposal, at least for the time being. 

Y/n’s blood ran cold as she read the column. She had expected to hear more about the bitter impression Simon was leaving in London. She was going to comment on how typical arrogant white elitists villainising anyone who did not approach them in a way that appeases their ego.

But that was not what she read.

Instead, she read about Simon showing a particular interest in the woman named the ‘Diamond of the Season’ by the Queen herself- Miss Daphne Bridgerton. She read about him courting her and spending a significant amount of time with her. She read about flowers, the expensive kind, and walks through Hyde park, and she was unsure whether to feel betrayed or feel furious.

It was one thing for Simon to begin courting another woman, after explaining to Y/n that he would never marry. It was another for her to have to learn all of this from reading the Lady Whistledown column. 

Without providing her mother with an answer as to what the column wrote, Y/n slammed the newspaper against the table beside her and stood up abruptly. 

Her mother went to reprimand Y/n for slamming the paper so violently against her favourite table. However, Y/n walked hastily into her bedroom. She began to plan what she was to pack when she would leave for London in the morning.

She was adamant on learning the truth in its entirety. And, this time, not from an anonymous publisher but from Simon himself.

***

Y/n had an aunt who lived in London with her husband and their three kids- all much younger than Y/n was. She knew that if she could get away with arriving in London unannounced with intent to stay for longer than a week, her only luck was with her aunt.

After she was escorted inside by one of the workers, Y/n stood and marvelled at her aunt’s husband’s estate. It looked nothing like the sitting room at her home. It looked fancier with much nicer things, leading her to think back to why her mother pushed so hard for her to marry. Mrs Y/l/n had helped her younger sister find a match, and now she lived in a beautiful home in London. 

Perhaps all she wanted was to ensure the same future for her only child.

“Y/n, my dear!” Her aunt came bursting through the doors with arms stretched out. She pulled Y/n into a tight embrace as she always did whenever greeting her niece. Before her three children, she had Y/n. “Oh, how I have missed you!”

“I have missed you too, Aunt Philippa,” Y/n smiled, gently clutching her aunt’s hand as she held her cheek. “Please forgive me for arriving here unannounced. I would have written to you in advanced, but I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Do not be silly, my dear,” Philippa laughed, before guiding her niece out of the sitting room and towards the staircase. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you may need. Though I imagine your mother will be impatiently anticipating your return... how is my dear sister?”

“As restless as ever,” Y/n mumbled. Philippa’s laughter echoed across the halls. Just as she expected, her older sister had not changed. Not one bit. “She is adamant that I am engaged by the end of the season, which is part of the reason I needed to leave home so quickly.”

“I do not blame you, dear,” Philippa murmured. She knew from first-hand experience how relentless Y/n’s mother could be. Even so, she knew it was out of love. Y/n knew as well. “Now... what is the urgent matter you need to attend? I imagine you will need a chaperone... and perhaps a carriage?”

Y/n smiled in relief. Everything she had done leading up to her arrival in London was purely impulsive. She hadn’t even thought of how she would get to Simon or who she would have to escort and chaperone her. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of... the Duke of Hastings?”

Philippa’s eyes grew twice in size. Whether it was shock or excitement, Y/n could not figure out. It wasn’t until her aunt pulled her into the nearest empty room, checked to see if anyone was listening in, and grinned at her that Y/n concluded it was the latter.

“When I read about the Duke and Miss Bridgerton, all I could think of was you,” Philippa began, speaking in a hushed tone, though unable to contain her excitement. She did not typically indulge in gossip, but she was entirely invested in staying updated to her niece and Simon. “You never did tell me what happened when he returned. Did you confess your feelings?”

Philippa had generously volunteered her afternoons so that her niece could practise what she would say to Simon. She hoped those afternoons had not been spent in vain.

“I did... And then he did too... Before telling me, he would never marry,” Y/n explained, trying to conceal the way her breath hitched and the way tears welled up in her eyes. “Though, after reading Lady Whistledown’s column, it is clear that perhaps he meant that he would never marry me.”

Philippa frowned and lifted her hand up again, holding the side of Y/n’s face and swiping the few tears she couldn’t stop from escaping. As she did so, Y/n inhaled sharply- trying desperately to keep herself from indulging in her sorrow.

“I am sure that is not the case, dearest,” Philippa insisted. 

She refused to believe Simon would do that to her niece. Not after the stories she had heard from Y/n as they grew up. Not to mention all the times she caught one staring at the other across ballrooms and dining tables. 

“We must hurry,” she chirped, dropping her hand so she could grasp her niece’s arm. “I believe the Duke will be in Hyde Park with Lady Danbury. ‘Tis best we leave now if we wish to catch them.”

Y/n smiled. Being with her aunt was a nice change of pace to being with her mother. She would have scolded Y/n had she caught wind of what had happened. 

***

Upon their arrival at Hyde Park, Philippa approached Lady Danbury. Her plan was to make conversation with her, find out more about Simon and Daphne’s relationship. Then, she would ultimately create a segue for Y/n to have a somewhat private conversation with Simon.

However, Y/n had other plans.

When they arrived, she scanned the park in search of Simon. Once she spotted him walking alone on the pavement, she threw caution and decorum to the wind. Before her Aunt Philippa could stop her, Y/n sprinted. 

Once she reached him, she grabbed his shoulder roughly, prompting him to turn around.

“Peach,” Simon whispered, dumbfounded by Y/n’s sudden appearance.

He stopped calling Y/n by her name when they were five. Instead, he called her Peach, for reasons that remained a mystery to Y/n. Despite not knowing the reasoning behind it, she always adored it. She was the only person he had a unique designated name for.

More recently, she wondered if Miss Bridgerton would soon become an exception.

“You owe me an explanation,” Y/n said harshly, not having the patience to beat around the bush. This was primarily because she wanted to know the truth and because she was out of breath from sprinting to Simon.  “Do I really mean so little to you, Simon?”

“Please lower your voice,” Simon begged, subtly grabbing Y/n’s arm and quickening their pace to avoid the crowded area of the park. 

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child,” Y/n growled, yanking her arm away from him and stepping back. 

“Then do not act like one,” Simon retorted.

Y/n scoffed, before dusting off her dress. Simon rolled his eyes to cover his nervousness. He had a habit of concealing it with aggression. Y/n was often able to see through it, but she was guilty of doing the same.

“What changed?” Y/n asked as she looked back at Simon. “You seemed so certain when you told me you would never marry. Now you have extended your stay in London to court Miss Bridgerton?”

“I wish I could give you an answer,” Simon responded honestly. It was perhaps the most honest statement he had made all month. 

His courtship of Daphne was a mere ruse to attract more suitors for her. Truth be told, Simon was incredibly stressed by it, but he was too deep into the lie to give up any time soon. He hadn’t anticipated Y/n would be caught in the middle of it.

“Well, what could be hindering you from doing so?” Y/n cried, confused by how vague and cryptic Simon was acting.

He struggles to find the right words. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Y/n any more than he already had, but he could not give her the answer she wanted. Although he was not actually courting Daphne, he still would not marry. Thus, he could not do what would make her happy, which was the main reason he kept his distance from her in the first place.

“Things are different now,” Simon said apologetically, hoping to deter Y/n from prying. Though he desperately wanted to say more, he knew that doing so was incredibly risky. “We... we are not children anymore.”

Y/n blinked, astonished by Simon’s reaction. It was far from what she had expected. She expected an explanation. She expected assurance. Instead, she has pushed aside as though she and her feelings were disposable. 

This was a familiar feeling to Y/n.

“Is that all you think of me?” She asked angrily. Simon, of all the people in her life, had the most power to hurt her. And he often did so without realising. “A child?... And our relationship? You think it is something as easy to put behind you as your childhood? Is that all this is to you, Simon?”

She went to speak again. To demand what she felt she had a right to. However, before she could get a word out, a woman appeared from behind her. She was fair-skinned and wore a dress that resembled her complexion. 

“Miss Bridgerton,” Simon gasped. He did not know whether to be grateful for her arrival or concerned about how it would affect Y/n. He eventually became both. “May I introduce you to Miss Y/l/n. She is a... very close family friend.”

Y/n had to keep herself from scoffing. She was more to him than just a friend. Y/n knew that well, despite Simon’s denial.

“I am terribly sorry,” Miss Bridgerton cried, averting her attention to Y/n. “I did not mean to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Y/n assured, smiling sincerely at Daphne. Her anger was entirely directed towards Simon. Unlike him, Daphne had no pre-existing history with Y/n to remain considerate of. “I actually must return to my aunt. It was lovely to finally meet you, Miss Bridgerton.”

Before Y/n turned to walk back to her Aunt Philippa, she glanced back at Simon, who was very clearly terrified of how calm Y/n was. He could only imagine the amount of anger she was harbouring. Deterring her would prove to be much more complicated than he expected.

“Your grace,” Y/n snarled through gritted teeth, before forcing a smile as she turned away.

***

It had been a week since Y/n and Simon’s interaction at Hyde Park.

Y/n sat beside her aunt Philippa in a carriage as she read through her mother’s letter. She had made vividly clear, through an eight-paged rant, that she was absolutely livid with her daughter. Y/n’s hands were trembling. 

“I assume she is quite upset?” Philippa asked, though she already knew the answer. 

Y/n had extended her stay to a week just so she could attend a gala at Lady Danbury’s estate. It was her last hope of catching a moment alone with Simon and gaining, at the very least, some form of closure. She hoped it would not come to that, but from their last interaction, Y/n was losing confidence.

“She is furious,” Y/n answered shortly, before folding the letter abruptly and placing it aside. Her mother wrote one demand that sent chills through her bones. “If I am not home within a week, she will come to London and take me back herself. Then, I will have to accept Mr Graham’s proposal.”

Philippa’s stomach dropped. She placed her hand atop her niece’s. Y/n looked down to conceal the tears that began to gather in her eyes. Philippa noticed and wrapped her arm around Y/n, gently squeezing her shoulder. 

“I am sure it will not come to that,” she whispered soothingly, though she struggled to sound sincere. Y/n nodded. She didn’t quite believe her aunt, but she knew there was no point in losing hope entirely. At least not yet.

Once they arrived at the gala, Philippa made conversation with a friend, whileY/n made way to Lady Danbury. The event was held in her courtyard. While others marvelled at her estate, Y/n felt a warm sense of nostalgia. When Lady Danbury brought Simon to her London estate during summers, she would often invite Y/n and her parents. While her parents and the Danburys made conversation in the house, Simon and Y/n would run about freely outside.

“Welcome back, Miss Y/l/n,” Lady Danbury smiled warmly, as Y/n and her aunt approached her.

“It is a pleasure to be here, my lady,” Y/n responded curtly, before laughing out loud as Lady Danbury pulled her into her arms for a tight hug. 

Once she let go, they made small talk. Lady Danbury asked Y/n how her parents were. Y/n asked Lady Danbury how she was and how her fruit orchards were. After they ran out of things to discuss, Y/n could not help but scan the room searching for Simon, who was nowhere to be found.

“I am not completely sure where he is,” Lady Danbury said, startling Y/n who had not realised how far from natural she was acting. “Though, he did complain about how suffocated he was by the throng here... I imagine he has gone to a place where it will be difficult for most to find him.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Lady Danbury was cryptic by nature, and after years of knowing her, she had a knack for figuring out what she meant. Once Y/n knew, she smiled at Lady Danbury, before excusing herself from the gala.

Y/n headed away from the gala and towards the maze area. It was well-lit, which she was grateful for as it meant she could navigate her way around swiftly. It felt like second-nature to her; running about in the Danbury’s London Estate. She forgot how much she enjoyed the thrill of running through and past the hedges.

Once she reached the maze’s centre, she saw Simon standing idle, his back towards where she stood. That was the place they spent most of their time. When they were younger, they would sit there and play games. As they got older, they would sit there and talk. Sometimes he would read while she drew. Sometimes vice versa. But most of the time, they spoke—about everything worth talking about, and then some.

“I remember the first time we played here together,” Y/n began, causing Simon to jump. Once he turned around and saw Y/n his tense posture softened, and a small smile appeared across his face. She felt relieved by it, though she didn’t want to let her guard down entirely. “I got lost, almost immediately, and you found me sitting here, cross-legged, in a puddle of tears. Do you remember?”

Simon chuckled. Of course, he thought. 

“You were inconsolable when I found you,” he mocked, prompting Y/n to reach out and lightly punch his shoulder. His laughter only grew.

“We were five,” Y/n reasoned. She would never admit that she was dramatic. Not even as a child. “I genuinely thought no one would ever find me... and then you did, within a matter of minutes.”

She joined him in laughing. It made for a very entertaining story that they retold relentlessly. While others were sick of hearing it, neither of them were sick of recounting it, for their own reasons.

“I told you I would never leave you behind,” he added, smiling as he thought back to that day. His smile faded quickly when he realised the irony. He frowned and took a step towards Y/n. “Peach, I must apologise-”

“-No... I am the one who must apologise,” she intervened. Simon stood back in confusion. Y/n sighed before clarifying herself. “I did not mean to blindside you so aggressively before. I did not come here to argue with you, Simon, I... I came to ask you if it is true... Are you courting Miss Bridgerton... with the intent of marrying?”

Simon winced. 

He felt conflicted by both his love for Y/n and the promise he made to Daphne to uphold their ruse. He could not in good faith outright admit that he was merely pretending to court Miss Bridgerton. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Y/n’s heart a second time.

His lips parted, but his mouth ran dry. Before Simon could keep himself from blurting out the wrong thing, he was overcome by a habit he developed over the last month of playing along.

“I am,” he answered.

Just as he did, he lifted his hand to his temple and scrunched his eyebrows. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Y/n. He was still haunted by the look on her face when he told her he would never marry.

“Right,” she sniffled, unsure how to react. Y/n had convinced herself that there was more to the story than what she had read from Lady Whistledown. She regretted how in-denial she allowed herself to become. 

One thing Y/n knew for sure, though, was that she did not want to be near Simon. Although she was on the verge of sobbing, she still turned around and intended to leave him, but Simon grabbed her arm and kept her from doing so.

“Please let me explain,” he begged.

Y/n’s tears halted as she glared at Simon, shocked. She shook her arm out of his grasp and took a step back from him. She had always despised the way men often treated women as though they were disposable and replaceable. She never expected Simon to be one.

“There is no explanation necessary,” she scoffed.

“Y/n, please, you do not understand,” Simon cried. It was rare for him to call her by her name, but Y/n dubbed it as him trying to manipulate her emotions. She would not let that happen. 

“No, of course, you would deceive me,” Y/n spat, unwilling to let Simon get a word in. She was tired of waiting around just to hear from him. This time, she would be the talking. He would be the one listening. “-about not wanting to marry or have children, and of course, I believed your ridiculous lie, like the fool I have always been for you.”

“Ridiculous?” Simon hissed. Y/n’s dismissal of his vow sparked a fit of anger that overcame him before he could realise it had done so. No one had ever called to question or criticised his decision to remain a bachelor for life. No one until Y/n.

“Perhaps not a ridiculous lie,” Y/n sneered. “No, it was more-so childish and nonsensical.”

“And yet, you believed it... What is that to say about you, Miss Y/l/n?” Simon scorned. Y/n flinched. Simon had only ever addressed her in such a way to either tease her or to emphasise his anger. It had been a long while since he had done so for the latter. “It was not a lie, Y/n, I... You could never understand the immense pressure I have been placed under my entire life-”

“- Pressure that significantly decreased with the death of your father,” Y/n argued. Simon acted as though he had a monopoly over her when it came to challenges in life. He could not have been more wrong. “I, on the other hand, am placed under severe pressure and will continue to be, long after my parents pass... That is one of the many things you will never understand.”

“That is not true,” Simon fired back, only for Y/n to continue speaking- this time, with a louder voice.

“We may be the same in one sense, but we are significantly different in another, because you, Simon, are still a man with a title.” Y/n and Simon both shared similar challenges as neither of them were white. However, where Simon inherited certain advantages for being a man, and a Duke, Y/n was only disparaged more. He often forgot that. “You, at the very least, still have the luxury of choice. To choose how you wish to fulfil your future, and whether or not that may include a wife or children.”

Simon lowered his eyes defeatedly. Though he was still angry, there was no denying the shame he felt. 

“I do not. Those choices were made for me the moment I was born a daughter and not a son. So do not act as though you are in a position to empathise with me,” Y/n said. “Especially when you have been the least bit empathetic after I came all the way here, just to confirm the truth about you and Miss Bridgerton.”

“I never told you to come to London,” Simon snapped.

“No, you did not,” Y/n retorted, with just as much, if not more, annoyance in her voice. “You did not tell me anything. I had to find out at the same moment as everyone else in England, as though we are strangers.”

Simon flinched as Y/n progressed from speaking loudly to outright shouting. He had always relied on having her sympathy and her support, even when he was in the wrong. Thankfully, they were far from the gala. However, Simon still feared someone had heard her reprimanding him.

“You claim you are different, now that you are a Duke, but you are the same as you have always been,” Y/n continued. She knew how he had always been. Better than anyone, let alone Miss Bridgerton, that was for sure. “You are still rigid and arrogant. You are still a coward who will never allow himself to feel any kind of joy. And you are still revolving your every decision in life around a man you claim to despise.”

“You do not know a thing,” he whispered, which only confirmed to Y/n that he was scared. He was intimidated. For as long as they had known one another, Y/n rarely confronted his relationship with his father.

“I have watched you go from living only to please him to living only to spite him, even if it means hurting the people who actually care for you,” she cried. She had no more anger within her. Not any more. She had only sadness. “Did it ever occur to you how much it hurt when you rejected me?”

“That was never my intention,” Simon said regretfully. 

It was the truth, though Simon had begun to realise that his wrath against his father blinded him from what he cared about more: her happiness. 

“Peach,” he whispered, inching towards Y/n as he lifted his hand and held the left side of her face. “Please, believe me, I never meant to hurt you.”

Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. It had been so long since they had shared a moment like that. An intimate moment shared between no one but them. Where Simon was not the stoic and emotionally detached Duke of Hastings. He was Simon. Dare she say, her Simon.

Despite that, Y/n was the first to turn away. She wanted to indulge. To take advantage of the opportunity to reconcile with him. To enjoy how vulnerable he was, after months of distance. 

But she couldn’t. 

Not when there were still questions burning in her mind. She could not rest until they were dealt with. After all, she was her mother’s child.

“Then what about Miss Bridgerton?” Y/n’s expression remained stagnant, but she could not keep hands from trembling. Simon winced at the mention of Daphne. “You... courting her after rejecting me... You cannot possibly tell me you did not intend to hurt me when you did that.”

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had no response to what she had said because there was no justification for what he had done. All he could do was curse quietly to himself for taking so long to realise how foolish he had been.

“I had always expected this to happen,” Y/n began, sniffling as she tried to compose herself enough to explain herself. Simon remained quiet and decided he would until she finished. He figured he owed her as much. “I always knew I would be turned away for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.”

It had been the subject of many of her mother’s lessons. Before she was introduced to society, her mother made it a point to prepare her for rejection. To not hold out hope for any man, until a marriage proposal was made. 

Simon had been Y/n’s only exception to that rule. 

“It’s happened to me my whole life,” Y/n laughed bitterly, as she recalled all the times she had lost to a woman of fairer skin than her. All the times she wept to her Aunt Philippa and to Simon. “I always expected this would happen. But I never expected this would happen with you.”

Simon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Y/n struggle to stifle her cries in between her sentences. He had watched her sit in this sorrow many times, just as she had done for him, for this was a pain she shared. But this time was different. This time he was the one responsible. 

He didn’t know pain, so heart-wrenching, was possible. But watching her cry and knowing he could do nothing to fix it. That pain had never felt more real.

“I do not blame you, Simon,” Y/n whimpered, which only made him hurt more. He wanted her to be angry. To berate him some more. It was the least of what he deserved for causing her such sorrow. “She is the ‘Diamond of the Season’ after all, and... I am just me.”

Y/n hated the pity party she was throwing for herself, but she could not help what she felt. After a life of being classed second to white women, who could blame her for internalising this? 

He was dying to say something. To tell Y/n that she had it all wrong. He wanted to reveal that his courtship of Daphne was all a ruse. That he could never bring himself to entertain the idea of marrying anyone but her. But his fear of only making things worse left him paralysed. 

“You have made it abundantly clear that I was a fool forever waiting around for you,” she said to Simon. Unfortunately for him, she had taken his lack of response as confirmation that what she had concluded of the situation was accurate. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“Peach-”

“Goodbye, Simon,” Y/n blurted as she turned away hastily. 

Left in too much shock to reach out and stop her, Simon stood, dumbfounded, and watched as the woman he loved walked away from him and back to the gala. Looking back, he wished he had called out to her. Simon wished he had run after her. But he did not.

When Y/n reached the courtyard where the gala was being held, she couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that rushed over when she realised Simon let her go. This assured her that she was right to leave him, but it did not alleviate the pain in doing so. 

She made her way through the crowd and searched for her aunt. As she did, she felt her cheeks burn and her pace of breath quicken. She had gone through all the effort of coming to London just for what she feared most to be the reality. 

“There you are, my dear!”

Y/n turned around and saw her Aunt approaching her. Philippa smiled brightly as she walked towards her niece. However, when she realised that Y/n’s enthusiasm fell short of matching hers by a significant margin, her smile began to fade.

“Where is Simon?” She inquired, her voice lowered to not draw attention to their conversation. From Y/n expression, Philippa inferred that was the last thing she wanted.

Y/n’s lip quivered as she tried desperately to answer her aunt’s question. When she failed to do so, she hung her head- too embarrassed to face her aunt. Philippa frowned. A line appeared between her brows as she reached out to her distraught niece.

Though she was dying to know, the details of Simon and Y/n’s conversation were the least of her concerns. All she cared for was her niece and helping her in any way she needed. 

“I will call for our carriage,” she whispered, before guiding Y/n out of the courtyard. 

Once their carriage arrived, Philippa sat opposite her niece and watched worriedly as she refused to make eye contact, let alone speak.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Y/n took a long moment to respond. She stared at her gloved hands as she thought about what to do next. She regretted all the proposals she had turned down, and all the ways she put her life on hold for Simon. She felt ashamed that she had allowed herself to be in the situation she was in. 

Then she realised the only thing she could do to fix it.

“May you organise a carriage to take me home tomorrow?” Y/n asked. Her aunt’s eyes widened. Returning home to face her mother was the last thing Philippa expected Y/n to want to do. 

She watched her niece closely, trying to figure out what her plan moving forward was. Y/n finally looked up and met her aunt’s gaze. To Philippa’s surprise, her niece had a prominent sense of confidence in her expression. 

“Why, my dear?” Philippa quizzed, her eyebrows still knitted in confusion as well as fear. The way her niece was suddenly overcome with confidence after being on the verge of tears was concerning. She couldn’t imagine it would lead to anything good.

Y/n inhaled sharply, pursing her lips as she did so. She knew her aunt would disagree with what she planned to do. But she also knew that, given the circumstance, Philippa would reluctantly do as she asked. Before she answered, Y/n momentarily glanced down at her hands and turned back to her aunt.

“I have a proposal to accept.”

NEXT PART

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 152

I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...

Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.

That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.

“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.

I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”

She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”

“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”

Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”

“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.

Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”

As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.

I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”

My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “

A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”

Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”

Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.

Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”

“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”

Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”

I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”

“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.

“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.

“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.

“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.

Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”

“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.

“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”

Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”

Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”

“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”

Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”

“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”

“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”

I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”

“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”

Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”

“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”

“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”

“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Fiiiiine…”

Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”

“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”

“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”

“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”

“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”

Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “

“And Kink Night!”

“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”

“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”

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[queenlua]

ace attorney drink headcanons

franziska von karma:  one of those intimidating people who always drinks martinis and never spills a drop

athena cykes:  oh god, poor kid.  everything i was drinking at that age: cosmos, lemon drops, moscato, basically whatever on the menu has bright saturated colors and high enough ABV to kill me

maya fey:  she is the brave soul who always orders the most batshit-sounding thing on the menu.  clarified milk?  earl gray tea?  turkey stock?  chartreuse?  all valid cocktail ingredients in her book!

also, she’s lucky as hell, so instead of getting stuck drinking something that tastes like shoe, everyone asks to try what she ordered, and It’s Insanely Good Actually, and she gets to smugly watch as everyone else orders the same thing

more under the cut—

phoenix wright:  maya occasionally bullies him into ordering the most batshit-sounding thing on the menu, except whenever he does it, he ends up ruefully drinking something that tastes like shoe.  rip.

in general his preferences are very flexible, and he’s never bothered to figure out what’s Actually Good, so his liquor cabinet is this ridiculous mix of Actually Very Nice Stuff that people have gifted him, as well as Whatever Was On Sale At Kroger That Week, and he has no idea which is which so he just throws out a random assortment whenever company’s over

miles edgeworth:  a wine snob, obviously, but to everyone’s surprise he’s not a French Wines Or Bust kinda guy.  instead, he actually did a bunch of tedious research on the most promising but presently-underproducing wine regions nearby, and got memberships at like ten different wineries.  turns out, he was right, and now everyone in Paso Robles loves him & knows him by name & also all the bottles he’s had aging in his cellar for the past decade are now worth $$$, because he’s just got that good of taste.  he judges you if you go on a trip to Napa, that place is so overrated nowadays, but he at least has the grace to judge you silently. 

the first time he spends the night at Phoenix’s place, he peeks in the cupboard and sees a couple of those supersize bottles of Yellowtail moscato and/or some Franzia, and he nearly ends the relationship right there.  like, god, Phoenix, college has been over for ten years, have some standards

kristoph gavin:  also a wine snob, but of the French Wines Or Bust variety.  at some kind of office Christmas party, Kristoph and Edgeworth end up having a “casual” chat about wines, and it turns out they disagree on nearly everything, and also, Kristoph was radiating some Menacing Vibes, and honestly this dumb wine chat, more than anything, convinces Edgeworth that Phoenix is onto something.  this Kristoph dude is messed up.  who doesn’t enjoy a good cabernet sauvignon.  who.

simon blackquill:  the first time Simon ever goes to a bar, he excitedly asks for a Samurai Spirit.  the bartender naturally asks “what the hell is that,” Simon explains that it’s totally a real cocktail recipe he found on the internet, and the bartender insists he’s never heard of it.  no worries; Simon spent yesterday googling all the weebiest drinks he can think of.  maybe they have this one very high-end unfiltered sake?  nope.  what about a Bushido Blast?  nada.   what about a Peregrine?  buddy do we look like the kind of bar that keeps fancy liqueurs just lying around?  look, let me just make you a rum & coke because i got other customers to deal with, buddy.

naturally, Simon’s so put out by the whole experience he declares drinking to be bullshit for a while.  eventually Athena takes him to some bar that’s running a weeb-based menu during the local comic con, and Simon knows true joy again

...i can also imaging him going through an expensive scotch phase, just to be difficult.  (ever had that asshole at your party who’s like Actually I Only Drink Glenfiddich 18 Or Better?  yeah.  infuriating!)

apollo justice:  Apollo was a teetotaler for most of law school, until one Saturday night, when the stress was just Too Much, and he said “fuck it” and went to a big loud stupid party with people he only kinda liked.  he proceeded to drink way too much, and thus spent an entire evening/early morning/midday at the altar of the porcelain god, which convinced him Never Again.

he eventually got over it and now drinks a bit socially, but not often and not much.  it turns out alcohol really hates him.  he gets hungover as shit on, like, three beers.  poor dude

gumshoe: my fave salt-of-the-earth dude drinks Budweiser and/or Asahi, like a true red-blooded Japanifornian

i don’t have good ideas for Mia beyond “god, she’s so cool, just the coolest stuff you can think of,” nor do i have good ideas for Klavier (like, German beers? but that feels way too lazy/uncreative?), nor for Godot (are there... coffee cocktails?), so, suggestions welcome!

[popculturebuffet]

Justice League: In Blackest Night Review: A Case Study in Why John Stewart is  Awesome

Hello my Green Lantern Corps and happy black history month! And happy 40th Anniversary Year to John Stewart. And let’s get this out of the way now not the one replaced by trevor noah who handed Tucker Carlson his ass on television and got his show canceled, please do it again John i’d be greatful, and has a weird obession with how Pizza should be. No i’m of course talking about the Green Lantern, the third from earth and the second to headline the book itself, John Stewart.  But to me.. he was my first Green Lantern and one that gave me a deep and abiding love of the Corps since all thanks to this very episode. It’s thanks to John I’m the green lantern loving nerd I am today and without him I probably wouldn’t of found Guy, Jessica, Simon, Alan, and Kyle not to mention got into the varoius other corps. It’s thanks to this episode I wanted to seek out these wonderful characters eventaully and in part why I got into JLI, one of my faviorite teams, among many ohter great things and books. 

So quite obviously both this episode, which I haven’t seen in probably a decade, and John have a great place in my heart. And thus it warms said heart to FINALLY see John getting the recogntion he deserves: he’s going to be one of the starring roles in the upcoming HBO Max series, he was on Scott Snyder’s justice league, and he’s now going to be headlniing the main Green Lantern book going forward under writer Geoffry Throne, who like me was VERY sick of the Hal Jordan show the Green Lantern franchise could become at times, and also like me gave out about it a LOT. The fact DC hired him despite a very public and easily accesable record of him slagging of their use of Hal instead of him ESPECAILLY in the new 52 reboot aka why Cyborg is in the Justice League movie as Geoff kinda shoved hal in there despite John being a more sensible pick and doing so not only shoving the Martain Manhunter, who this show also gave me a deep lasting love for, out of the team but forcing Cyborg onto the team despite fitting with the titans better and, AGAIN there being a black green lantern and given the New 52 kept the history of there being multiple lanterns, no reason Hal could’ve been SECOND instead other than DanDiDio’s bitchy habit of EVERYTHING WAS BETTER ON MY EARTH that poisoined the company for a good decade before recently. 

And yes I felt the need to rant about that, yes Green Lantern the animated series is still good mind you, I just got tired of bland white guy over “Really awesome, really layred especailly thanks to this series black guy”, “stubborn asshole white guy whose hilarious and has a heart underneath the layers of douchebag”, “creative and imaginative white guy who has as personality and really uses the ring in fun ways”, and more recently “A muslim superhero struggling with his past who’se also really energetic and fun and has an intresting family life” and “Latnix superheroine who struggles with anxiety and actually struggles with constructs and once she gets past that has very unique ones”. In other words, yeah I’m bitter because everyone else was more intresting than Hal, and it’s only in recent years with Jessica gaining promience and John regaining it that DC’s finally broke out of that and is actually using the intresting ones, and again without John I wouldn’t be a fan, so they had no real excuse to barely use him outside of the comics if at at all after a while. 

So yeah as you can tell by that rant and by how specific it got for each lantern, this is one of my faviorite franchises, as said this episode is responsible and so for Black History Month I felt i’d be a huge mistake on my part if I DIDN’T cover my boy John and this episode and see how it held up. The fact it’s his 40th anniversary wasn’t something I was aware of, but now I am, expect more Johncentric episodes from Justice League sprinkled throughout the year to celebrate one of my first and possibly best GL. 

Naturally before we get to the episode we have to get to the series itself. The series was launched as Batman Beyond was winding down. Bruce Timm wanted to keep the crew together, something I could empathize with since Owen Dennis and JG Quintel have ran into that same problem lately, with most of their crews drifting off during the gaps in production and Owen desperate to get the show renewed  before he lost everybody. A good crew isn’t had to find in animation but KEEPING them for multiple shows or seasons can be. And there was one project the fans wanted more than anything: The Justice League. After all BOTH Batman and Superman had had tons of guest stars, especailly the latter, with Batman having Zantana show up and Superman having the Flash (Wally West), Green Lantern (Kyle Rayner) and Aquaman all show up. There were seeds there.. but Timm was relcutant as he had trouble ballancing 2 or 3 heroes in a fight scene, wanting to keep them al lin focus so fans didn’t wonder where they were and they didnt’ have to cut back and forth, the idea of juggling 7 was daunting.  So as Beyond was finishing production a few things happened: The first is that they did the episode The Call, focusing on a future version of the League, and while only a two parter, it showed Timm his crew might be able to juggle a team of heroes after all, and second was the pitches Timm made BEFORE justice league. Since Kids WB had been hteir partner for a while now they tried pitching both a batman anime, he did not provide many details, and in his own words a “Kidified” justice league, basically the justice leagued mashed with the titans including a female version of cyborg. It was the latter pitch, which was rejected by Kids WB, that finally convinced Timm they could do this, but if they did it couldn’t be half assed or having compromises. it had to be what it SHOULD be. So they went to somewhere new, if in the same family and asked cartoon network, who said...

And here we are. They took their time to work out the characters, apparently taking a lot of delbiration, mostly on which GL to go with, and if they were going to do a hawk wether to go for hawkman or hawkgirl. In the end the roster was the iconic big 7 one, in large part thanks to Grant Morrison taking that concept and reviving it in his run on the team, but shaking it up slightly: Barry was naturally replaced with Wally West flash as he was THE flash in the comics, gave a slightly younger member for the others to play off of, and was more popular.. something Dan DiDio plugged his ears and went LALALALALALAL about for a decade before FINALLY leaving the company so he could stop screwing with a character he hated for reasons that can be summed up as ‘MY FLASH IS BETTER. YOU’LL LIKE MY FLASH.. YOU’LL SEE I JUST HAVE TO MAKE THE OTHER ONE A MASS MURDERER.. THAT’LL SHOW YOU FOR NOT LIKING WHAT I LIKE”... I still have maybe a smidge of lingering issues over how wally was treated the last few years after his return. I do not apologize for htem or for doing a little dance when I found out Didio was gone. 

Point is it wasn’t the only subsitution as Hal Jordan was replaced by John, obviously and rather than use Aquaman, they went with Hawkgirl, though Arthur still got an episode focusing on him fairly early into the series which has the iconic moment of him cutting his hand off to save his son. I dare you to find something more badass. Bruce both liked her deisgn better and felt it helped with the gender ballance. 

So with all that set and with some growing pains to get through they had their show so join me under the cut to see how it turned out. Spoilers: It good. 

We open INNNNNN SPACCCEEEEEEE, as a coaltion of neat looking aliens wants justice and has gone to a space court lead by three weird alien faces, likely inspiried by the kryptoian tribunal in the donnerverse superman movies, with their prosecutor sending a group of mysterious robots known as the Manhunters to go fetch the accused for a trial: John Stewart. Given he’s voiced by Kurtwood “Red Forman” Smith, i’m very surpised he didn’t order them to also put their foots up his ass. Maybe he’s saving it for the trial.

After the titles we cut to John himself whose in shades and trenchant for reasons.. I mean it looks neat, but he’s in his old neighborhood not hunting down his exes killer or trying to hide the fact he’s a ninja turtle. Why is he all disguised. I mean sure WE know people are coming from him and given what he thinks he did he knows.. but he has no intention of running from what he did. It’s just a weird stylistic choice. That said we do get a cool sequence when while casually walking he notices a robbery, and stops it simply by first stopping the wheel then levitating the car.. and while he does get a little showy shaking the guy upside down to return the money.. it’s all very controlled. It shows off how John works. While we’ve seen him at work as Green Lantern before this this small sequence says volumes about john in the span of a few minutes, showing that shilw he HAS immense power, he only uses the amount he needs, knows when to hold back, and only shows off a tiny bit, and even then he’s likely still keeping the theif absolutely safe. It also provides excellent foreshadowing for later as to why the League takes his side even when he refuses to defend himself, as it shows that John really is a professional true and true.

He runs by a basketball court and fails to make a basket when throwing a ball back to a kid before meeting his old gym teacher, who turns out to be the kids uncle or something like that, and invites John to join them as they go to the barber shop. The kid wants John’s haircut, his granpa says the usual and i’m wondering why as John’s haircut isn’t that radical: it’s a miltiary style cut, belying the fact that for this series, while it dosen’t come up in the plot here, John was a former marine instead of an architect. Honestly.. this wasn’t a bad change, giving us the deciated and measured john we know, to the point the comics gladly retconned it in. Not that it’s really a huge deal given it meelrly adds shades to the guy and dosen’t prevent him from being an architect. It just adds lairs by giving a reaosn he’s so focused and driven. He had it drilled into him and carried it with him. 

Meanwhile on the watchtower The Flash clumisly tries to get to know Hawkgirl better and maunver into asking her out, though it’s clear sh’es not intrested. Still even if he can’t help flirting, and it sometimes gets creepily obnoxious, it’s still better than I expected remembering this running subplot, as he DOES try to get to know her and what she does in her off time, even if it’s to set up asking her out, and is trying to ask her out instead of just hitting on her or doing anything far more creeptacular. It’s still not great mind you and hasn’t aged well at all.. but for the time it’s not TERRIBLE and again it goes away pretty quickly in favor of the much more intresting John and Shierya relationship. 

Flash accidently shoots himself in the foot.. conversationally though given how Wally is at this point in the series I wouldn’t be suprised, by asking the Martian Manhunter, who gives Hakwgirl an easy exit if he’s ever felt alone.. you know the guy whose entire race including his wife and child died horribly. He quickly apologizes though and John understands he just stuck his foot in his mouth at lighting speed. And it’s not the MOST insensitive he’s been about Jonn’s dead wife. 

But things are soon interupted as Jonn notes “We have an incursion!” 

But the Avengers are dealing with all of that so they can instead focus on the Manhunters shooting toward earth. I really like this as the primary reason Batman set up this station was to monitor for alien threats, it just because the Leagues base because superman had the idea to stay as a team and it was a good un, and given earth JUST had an invasion, as this likely isn’t too long after that given it’s only the second set of episodes, it’s understandable they’d  be on high alert. 

So our heroes move to intercept. As the first episode after the pilot this one also sets up a recurring part of the show and a necessary one: only a handful of Leaguers would feature in each two-parter, as the episodes for the first two seasons were essentially one hourlong story split into two episodes. The only exceptions were the three part premire, the three part finales for each season, and the sole solo episode comfort and joy which is fucking awesome and my faviorite christmas episode period. But even with the extended run time the crew simply felt i’td be unwiedly to juggle 7 characters eveyr episode, feeling it’d eventually get to original series star trek leevels of having one just manning a console or something. So rather than try and cram them all into every episode, they choose who they needed and gave valid excuses for the rest when necessary. In this case Batman and Wonder Woman have solo missions their busy with , as does Superman whose adressing an earthquake.  Our heroes try talking to the Manhunters.. who refuse to talk to them and then also say their coming for John, and aren’t explaning why. So naturally a brawl breaks out as the League SHOCKINGLY dosen’t want their friend who as far as they know has done nothing wrong taken by a brutish paramilitary force who won’t actual talk to the citzens their policing or try and be coporative. More on this in a second. The fight itself is pretty awesome as our heroes fight as evenly as they can.. but it’s clear their outgunned outplanned outnumbered and outmanned, as while their you know the justice league and do their best and Jonn is in Superman’s weight class the battle makes it VERY clear their barely holding in there and that the blast from the manhunters rods are just too potent for them to stand up against. 

But help and hope arrives and things get a bit less lopsided when Superman shows up! Unfortunately it’s season 1 superman, and something a lot of fans noticed but I as a kid didn’t and the crew themslves did not until it was too late to course correct for the season, was that Superman came off as a bit of a wimp in this series. See they had the good intention of having him struck down to show a threat’s serious, something TV Tropes calls the “The Worf effect” after the fact that Worf on Star Trek TNG would get knocked on his ass a lot for the same reason, but it has the side effect of making a character look like their made of paper mache if done too often. To the crew’s credit they realized this and not only made sure this didn’t happen as much in season 2, but dedicated the first episode of Season 2, twilight, to showing Superman as a badass by having him try and cave Darkseid’s skull in. Granted they overcompensated in places in that episode, but that’s a story for another day. Point is he had a habit of getting knocked around and it varied between really effective and overselling it. Here it works as the manhunters had already knocked Jonn around a bit, knocking him into some poor kid’s apartment whose really wondering what the fuck just happened too much to enjoy meeting the martian manhunter, so him  not being too on top of them simply sells this threat is equal, and possibly past the League. 

Meanwhile John is talking to his former teacher who says the kid reminds him of John... it’s not only a nice bit of depth to show the restrained John used to be a bit of a hellraiser before the Marines.. but also shows John’s guilt as he hopes not.. but before he can unload, he notices the fight and suits up to his old mentors shock and the kids joy, I mean I would too if a guy suddenly because a green lantern in front of me, and dashes off.. to surrender and break up the fight, handing over his ring and going with them and telling the League not to interfere. Their response can be summed up thusly. 

To John, he’s peacefully surrendering for a crime he comitted to a bruitsh and unfair police force but one who is duly deputized and as an officer himself, for the unaware the Green Lanterns are space cops and given the reason rightfuly reconing on the police I will certainly be discussing this as we go, is trying to coparate and prevent any collateral. While LIKELY Bruce pays for any that happens, as beneath his batdick demanour at times he’s a very good man and if he has the pockets for a space station, space craft, commuincators and all the good stuff a superhero team has on hand, he probably has a dedicated fund set up to paying for collateral since insurance might not cover it, and not only that would likely give any impacted extra to do any upgrades they coudln’t before because he’s a philanorphist .. one who dresses up like a bat to punch people in the face, but that itself is still philathophy in a way. 

But to the League? Their friend was taken by a bunch of shady paramilitary robots who didn’t bother talking to them, is trying to keep them out of it and for all they know only surrendered to prevent a fight, and even if he had valid reasons, as his friends-ish and teammates, they have a right to answers. So while John sits in his cell completlating his apparent crimes.. the JL have taken off in the Javelin, the spaceship I mentioned batman funding. And of course Batman has both spaceship money and had a design for one so ready it likely took a month at most for him to get it up and running, if not less, and only didn’t have one in the batcave because he hadn’t neededed it yet and likely didn’t want to embezle more money than he has to from his company. Jonn uses the stars John saw, say that three times fast I dare you, to find a location and our heroes head there.  Our heroes arrive.. and are attacked by the local security despite Superman geninely trying to hail them, the Javelin not firing back and our heros only going out to intercpet personally so they don’t die, and even then making careful certainty not to attack. So we get another thrilling battle, with our three flying heroes all pitching in, and the flash realizing he dosen’t know how to fly the thing and me cursing out bruce in my head for you know, not either forcing flash to learn the stuff, or having the forsight to put a manual on board for any members who forgot something, aka so when Wally inteivibly goofs off and eats candy instead of reading it the first time, he can speed read it and at least retain it long enough to land the thing in a crisis. If it were anyone else i’d be understanding but this is the guy who again, either had spaceship plans lying around or could get one together in the span of a month or so and while not thinking of the ship in terms of a team, still also paid for and likely created the commuincators they used, so he’d know his team well enough to know he needs this. 

My nitpicking aside, our heroes land, make quick work of the locals, and then crash in on John’s trial after he’s escorted in, passing his fellow lanterns who rightfully treat him with disdain.. but for the wrong reasons as we’ll see. John gives  groaning “oh no” , like he’s embarassed. When REALLY..

Seriously John, again you were as far as they knew kidnapped, and the way the manhunters acted, they had no reason to think they were legitamate, and you didn’t take five minutes to tell them, “They have every reason to be takning me” or “I blew up a planet I deserve this” . They still would’ve came mind you, they just might of realized this wasn’t a traditional rescue mission and actually tried to use some subtly. You also COULD have told the manhunters they might show up so the security wouldn’t attack them. They probably woudln’t o LISTEND or attacked themselves, so i’ts a damned if you do damned if you don’t situation, but you still did absolutely nothing. It’s the one mistep with John here and even then it has the justification of his self loathing at the moment being so high, he assumed they’d rightfully write him off without question.. not to mention given the team is mostly white guys, two aliens and a princess who woudln’t know better, he probably assumed like most white dumbasses they’d assume the police were correct and not give him the benifit of a doubt. To their credit, especially since you know one of them’s superman and the other one’s a professional dumbass, they didn’t think that for a second. Some would not be such a good person. 

But Prosecutor Forman and the big giant heads aren’t much better than the manhunters, so Prosecutor Forman sends some orange guys to put foots up their asses.. and since unlike the manhunters their just... some ambigiously gendered aliens with no powers, they go down quick and before the manhunters enter, superman RIGHTFULLY calls them out, as he points out they just wanted to know what the hell was going on, didn’t throw the first punch, and have been under attack since, and the heads admit this IS a public trial, and they kinda overreacted so as long as the superfriends don’t do any other antics and watch like anyone else, their good. Superman has his team play it safe for now as they really don’t know what’s going on and given they could only stalemate the manhunters on even footing, they know they can’t take them on their home turf.  

The trial is soon underway, and Prosecutor Forman calls the witnsees.. Kanjar Ro, also voiced by Smith. This is neat little bit as Ro was one of the first foes the League fought in the comics, a space pirate, and while he originally was just going to be some random asshole, someone brought up the idea of him being Ro and the crew really loved it. It’s a nice nod to the comics and honestly if you have a vast superhero universe with decades of continuity to draw from for your show, why NOT make the secondary villian of the episode be someone from the comics. 

Ro is, like the comics, a pirate and seemingly came forward because what John did was so bad even he can’t stomach it and has to say something. So we FINALLY find out what John did.. well okay the audience as a whole does I remember this from being a kid. He and Ro had a routine cop and robber interaction, Ro was smuggling shit, and John was doing his job as GL of Sector 2814 and stopping him and cut out his engine.. but seemingly said engine drifted off, and destroyed a planet as  result via chain reaction, and thus the debris right outside the planet John’s being tried on are apparently thsoe of the planet he accidently killed. The court takes a break and while the League, understandably, assume that the obviously shady man was lying John ends part one by confirming that no he did it. And this is why I put a pin in things... because the episode being about a space cop being arrested by worse space cops and dealing with his friends in the badge turning on him while some of his other friends try to prove he’s innocent, and the man in question being an african american... tackles some very loaded issues that, givent he writer and most of the staff, Dwayne McDuffie accepted, were very much white, i’m thinking they just kind of fell backward into and it only came out as good as it did either do to McDuffie or just blind luck that it didn’t turn out entirely awful in hindsight.

And if anyone is complaning: “Wait you dont’ need to get political leave politics out of this”.. please leave my fucking blog. For one, the recknoing with the police was long overdue, I feel ashamed for not having it sink in how fundementally broken the police were and not realizing it for my whole fucking life, I knew some cops were bad but I hadn’t realized the institution was inherently racist and bad  and feel so much deep and lasting shame for that, and for another again it’s a story that at it’s core is a black police officer being arrested for doing something wrong, taking full responsiblity for his actions like a police officer SHOULD, and having friends of his try and prove he didn’t really do it, while his fellow officers, rather than find the act itself abohhrent, come out as either being loyal to john no matter what (kilowog) because fellow officer, or assholes who ONLY are upset because it makes them look bad, and are ONLY distancing themselves because of that, and not because you know JOHN MAY OF CAUSED A GENOCIDE BY INCOMPETNECE. So yeah, i’m not ignoring the real world implications, I couldn’t and wouldn’t if I wanted to, and i feel if done right ANY medium, animation, comics, what have you, for kids or not, can tackle such issues and should be able to. 

So i’m not ignoring the elephant in the room, and as we get into part 2 we get the good and bad of this in full: Superman feels something’s off about this whole thing, a hunch admitely but given an engine falling in a crater seems a bit too convinent, he has a right to investigate and takes MM to do so, while he leaves Flash and Hakwgirl to stall. Both take diffrent approaches: Flash signs on as GL’s lawyer.. and it’s an awesome scene as we find out, in your standard evil lawyer joke, that the tribunal of faces solved this by simply having the lawyer share the punishment.. but it also shows Flash’s loyalty and faith that his friend did not do this and something worse is at work, as he still agrees after learning he’ll probably die if his other friends don’t fix this. 

And now we have full context i can get into where this episode really does the issue justice for the most part: John is presented as the model of both what the GL Corps and what police should be: He’s professional, uses minimal force despite having a weapon that can do anything, and when he THINKS he did something horrible, he dosen’t run from his crime: the most he does is go back home to see it once last time, simply waiting for someone to come and get him for what it did wether it be his own brothers in arms or as we saw the manhunters and he doesn’t defend himself because he dosen’t feel he should as he screwed up, got an entire planet killed, and rightly thinks he should pay for it. He’s likely, as a black man in the early 2000′s, been falsely accused, pulueld over and fucked over by police and seen people in his community he knewe and care about die because of shit like this so when given the chance to take responsibility, even from a clearly broken system, he does. Because in the same situation a lot of officers back at home would not and would walk away clean and that’s not who John Stewart is, how he was raised, or what he or the corps stands for. 

But the episode gets to have it’s cake and eat it too, as the League does belivie John didn’t do this on purpose.. and the blind faith they especially superman did come off as wince inducing.. until I realized it’s not because of some “brotherhood of the badge” bullshit.. but because it’s Superman. He belivies in the good of most people. In this very series despite Lex Luthor having tried to kill him dozens of times at this point, he STILL shows the guy empathy when he finds out Lex is dying of cancer. Lex spits at the notion of course and dosen’t take it seroiusly.. but Superman is just that good a person, so if he has a hunch somethings’ wrong.. it probably is. And even if he and Jonn found nothing... it’s the right thing to do. A crime should ALWAYS be properly investigated to make sure someone dosen’t hang for something they did not do. This is what I meant by have it’s cake and eat it too: the episode tackles police brutality.. but the accused is also the victim, and it thus tackles the unfairness in the us courts, how black people are often assumed guilty when that’s horribly racist and biased as fuck and how Police are assumed correct. Our heroes are assuming john is right based on optisim but are not wrong for wanting him to at LEAST get a fair trial and full investigation that clearly was not done. It also covers, again probably intetioanlly, how some are often not able to get proper representatin, with this court outright getting rid of it, which is wrong and bad, and the flash being the best John can do and not very good at it, mostly stalling for time. It shows the system’s brokena nd soemtimes you have to directly fight iht and can’t just take it , and even if your convinced your guilty and want to rightfuly take the blame for something your sure you did... you still deserve a fair trial and a compitent one. 

It’s not all good: as said the gl’s are portrayed as bad for not wanting anything to do with john, and in order to make them unsympathetic they care more about their rep than the fact a friend may of comited genocide and kilowog showing up and providing character witness is seen as a good thing, even if he provides no actual character evidence other than “Johnny’s a good guy” and that’s not ideal. It’s not perfect and again it was writtne by an old white guy so of course it isn’t but the fact it gets so much right the more you dig in despitei t’s awwkardness and being written and aired 20 years ago... that is nothing to sneeze at. 

We have more to dig into here too with the manhunters but first moreof the plot: While the other stuff mentioned happens, Superman and Jonn investigate as said.. and we find out WHY superman was supscious: while it was part hunch.. he did in fact have valid reason to suspect something was off, and as we saw actually heard the case against his friend first, and only went against it because the evidence was off.. in that the MOON of the planet is still there and should’ve flown off. He and Jonn soon find a MASSIVE device that John identifies as a bigger version of a toy he had as a kid, something that created images... and again shows whya  PROPER investigation was needed. Had the court actually looked into it instead of presuming John guilty, they would’ve found this thing too. Naturally though Kanjar Ro has followed them and wants to kill them.. but with her subplot wrapped up Hawkgirl went to seei f they needed backup, stealing one of the guard ships which given they attacked people on ap lanet iwth a PUBLIC TRIAL going on without haling them yeah don’t blame her, and kicks his ass. Our heroes find out the truth as I mentioned earlier: Ro was paid to lie and be in on things for an assload of money.. byt he Manhutners.. who at the moment are plotting to strike while Oa, the home of the green lanterns is weak, as the Guardians who created them and monitor them mostly left to go to the trial.

As we catch up with them, THe guardians speak on each lantern being trusted with the ring and given little oversight.. because they pick wisely. The prosecutor just wants John to hang, calls for a sentence, which is death and John and Flash nearly die, in case you thought I was pulling those parallels out of my ass. But Superman rushes in, and in a small, subtle gag he and Jonn do so thorugh a small pain of glass put over where they enterted last time, fight off security and save them, and before prosecutor foot in the ass can harumph about it more.. Superman claims jonn’s innocent..a nd has Shiera smash the generator, showing he indeed is, getting John aquitted. John also attacks Ro, who they brought along as a witness, rightfully so, but the League get him to stop as they don’t have time for that: the Guardians are strangely leaving after that, the manhunters are clearly doing something given their asbent, so John retakes his ring, restored to who he was now knowing he truly WAS innocent and was simply set up.. and he wants to find out why. 

We soon get the why as the Guardians explain the manhunters after the League won’t let them just.. brush by after they aburbtly tried to leave. They AREN’T behind the current attack.. but did create them, feeling robots would be better policeman. They were wrong, with the manhunters lacking empathy, being far too military in their job, and generally not being up for it so they simply gave them smaller jobs as bounty hunters, court balifs that sort of thing ans assumed they were fine because they didn’t say anything. As John puts it perfectly “Not outloud. “ And this itself is the other thing that makes the episode work as an allegory, if a very unteitonal one: The Manhunters are the police as they are now, violent brutes with way too much power, no restraint in using it and no ounce of mercy or sympathy for those they protect. And the Guardians rightfully removed this system, and replaced it with the corps. And while the Corps STILL have a lot of leway and power, being free to investigate on their own provided OA dosen’t call them to do someting specific, and given a ring that can do anything within corps guidelines, which basically means “don’t kill” and “don’t be a dick with it”, the guardians still watch them, do not interfere in trials and choose very wisely. not only that ther’es only one officer per sector, each sector being galaxies wide.. but that’s because that’s only what’s NEEDED. One Lantern with the power to take on entire fleets if needed, which is a fair amount of power given the scope of the job, and come in as requested by the people themselves, honestly isn’t a bad system. Granted the corps is wonky from time to time in the comics as are the guaridans depending on the writer, but at it’s core the corps really sounds like a more responsible versoin of the police: given just the gear necessary, the men necessary, and only called in when truly needed or if they spot a crime in process. THat’s what the people protecting us should be like and that’s why this episode still works. 

Obviously though I was aware of none of this as a kid, and the real reason I loved this episode is this climax. The League arrives on Oa just in time to provide backup. Presumibly the guardians there and incoming with the league simply dont have the power to spare to call for reinforcments. Which is weird but fair enough drama wise and our heroes storm the planet , with the corpsmen from before all showing up to pitch in. But John gets there too late as the head manhunter drains the central power battery, the source of the lantern’s powers, and declares I AM THE POWER, refusing to accept he’s out of date.

 And this, folks is the moment that made me love the lanterns for life. John is outgunned, the wise old wrinkled blue men who gave him his powers drained of there, starring down a massive monster planning to subjigate the universe... and he does not blink. See lanterns are picked for their willpower, their abliity to stare down things like this, and fight anyway, their very rings controlled by this, by their own force of personhood. It’s another reason besides logistics why theires only one per sector: it’s that hard to find one. Earth is so remarkable because , even if it’s simply so we could have more stars in the books over time in real world, we produced not ONE person capable of this.. but 7.. Alan Scott whose not in the corps but whose powers stll work on will and could probably use a regular corps ring very much included. John was chosen because he simply won’t give up. He gave up before.. but it was the right thing to do and ultimately biding his timea nd accepting his trial.. gave his friends time to aquit him and prove he was framed. 

But now is not the time to back down.. now’s the time to stand.. so how does John win? By USING his will, by using the reason he was chosen coupled with ihs own personal dedication and concentration, he grabs his ring as it floats toward the guy, takes it back.. and starts reciting the lantern oath. And since the Manhunter is indeed “The power”.. it means he too can be controlled like any lantern energy. and thus with every bit of willpower he has, struggling all the while but not moving a damn inch, John recites his oath and shoves the monster that framed him, and the power he stole, back into the battery, all while saying an oath so badass it has been etched into my head since thanks to this episode. Say it with me now..

In Brightest Day, In Blackest Night No Evil Shall Escape My Sight Let Those Who Worship Evil’s Might BEWARE MY POWER, GREEN LANTERN’S LIGHT!

And the credit goes to phil lamarr, who delivers the oath with all the gravitas and awesomeness it’s first delivery in this continuty it deserves. It was this that made me a lifelong fan: one man with the power of anytihng using PURE MENTAL STRENGTH AND DETERMiINATION TO SHOVE AN EVIL ENERGY BEING IN A GIANT LANTERN WHILE RECITING A BADASS AND AWE INSPIRING OATH. And if that dosen’t sell you on the Green Lantern’s being awesome I can’t help you and don’t know why your here. 

So wrapup time: The Guardians genuinely thank john, saying they choose well, and John brushes off his fellows corpspersons as they should’ve belivied him and thanks the League for having faith in him even when he didn’t. And while the former part has some.. bad implications we’ve gotten into already, I also can’t entirely blame him given they did it not because he might’ve killed someone but again, because 

Precisley. So our heroes prepare to head home, cue the credits. 

Final Thoughts:

So how does this episode hold up 20 years later? As should be obvious, damn well. It’s a good introduction for the corps, if showing them to be kinda assholes in places, and a good spotlight episdoe for John showing who he is what he stands for and again how TRULY MONUMENTALLY BADASS the man is. And lest you think the comics versoin is any LESS badass, he once got into a sniper duel in with Bedovian, a member of the Sinestro Corps and a crab person.. who was as I forgot till looking it up, THREE SECTORS, which i’ll remind you can comprise entire galaxies, away, with a ring made sniper rifle. In one shot no less. Point is even with some.. wonkier aspects, and ones that aren’t intetnional, it still works and is a shockingly relevant episode 19 years later and the fight scenes, as are standard for the series, are overwhelmingly awesome. Check this one out, and the series as a whole. With its great animation, character work and general badassery this one’s worth a few watches. And obviously given my love of this seires, and it’s 20th anniversay next year, and my love of John, check back here for more John-centric episodes throughout the year as we celebrate the guy. And I will also celebrate the green lantern NAMED guy eventually too, and jessica.. and all of them ebcause I love them all. Yes.. even Hal.  As for which John episode i’m doing next? Easy, one that intorduces me to a character I love who dosen’t get used near enough, Metamorphisis. The when I can’t say QUITE yet as my March schedule is full and most of my ongoing projects are on the backburner so I can tackle two arcs of ducktales, which coincidentally happened to be in time for the finale. That wasn’t planned AT ALL mind you, it just ended up working out really well that way.  For now though tommorow I begin my coverage of the final 4 episodes of ducktales with “Beaks in the Shell” and later this week finish up black history month with blacksad, continue my Lena retrospective with a money shark and some pr work, cover the second season of close enough, celebrate Tex Avery’s birthday and also celebrate the new Tom and Jerry movie.. with the OLD tom and jerry movie. Until then, see you next rainbow. 

[hlupdate]

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

[hldailyupdate]

This Charming Man: Why We’re Wild About Harry Styles

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”

Harry for Variety. (2 December 2020)

[amandaklwrites]

Top 20 Books I read in 2020

Hey there! I hope everyone had a Happy New Year and continues to have some good days in this new year. 

I thought I would do a quick reflection back on all the books I have read, so I put together my top 20 books that I absolutely loved reading in 2020. Of course, there are even more books that I really enjoyed, but I wanted to compile these ones as the ones that I totally loved and I keep thinking about all the time. 

So here are my top 20! They are in no particular order or ranking, just a compilation! 

1. Witches of Ash and Ruin by E. Latimer 

I loved the world, the mythology and the characters in this one. I have a lot of Irish ancestry and I love the mythology in the world, so I loved the darkness of this story! Plus-- WITCHES! 

2. The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #3) by Holly Black

The ending of a trilogy that I loved. Jude and Cardan as are so fascinating and wild. I was so excited about this book and it blew me away. 

3. A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) by Sabaa Tahir 

Another ending to a series that I absolutely love. Magical and brutal, and just breathtaking in storytelling. 

4. Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) by Cassandra Clare

I love all of Cassandra Clare’s books. But a series about Will and Tessa’s kids (and everyone else’s)??? SIGN ME UP! 

5. The Wicked Deep by Shea Ernshaw 

A wonderful, atmospheric story. I felt so immersed in the world. Dark and filled with ghosts, and of course, my love for the sea. 

6. Fable (Fable #1) by Adrienne Young

Adrienne Young is just one of my favorite authors ever. I love everything about her that I learn too. But this story was so heartwarming and mystical. I loved the main character, the world, and the sea lore. 

7. The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson 

This book was so dark and luscious. I found the commentary on cults and religion so fascinating. Twisted and wonderful, I couldn’t put it down! 

8. The Bear and the Nightingale (Winternight Trilogy #1) by Katherine Arden 

I loved this whole trilogy, but the first one was my favorite. It felt like I was stepping into this world of magic and winter, and I loved the mythology, the mystical feeling of the writing, and the complex characters. 

9. The King of Crows (The Diviners #4) by Libba Bray 

A long-waited ending to another series I love. Dark and fun and so mysterious. I love this series, and anything Libba Bray writes. 

10. Boneless Mercies by April Genevieve Tucholke 

This book is so brutal and bloody. But I loved the action and the characters! The world was inspired by Beowulf, which I totally enjoyed, too. 

11. House of Salt and Sorrows by Erin A. Craig 

I love retellings, naturally, but this book was insane and so dark and twisted. I felt so mystified but it also scared me out of my wits. So good! 

12. The Sun Down Motel by Simone St. James

Definitely one of my favorite authors of all time. Though I’m not a fan of horror, I'll always read her books. The best thriller/horror writer I've read. She does ghosts and creepy like no other. 

13. Unbirthday (Twisted Tales) by Liz Braswell 

I loved this retelling! Alice in Wonderland is a favorite of mine, so I loved seeing this new perspective. I enjoyed it so much! 

14. All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth #1) by Adalyn Grace 

A fun new, magical series. Pirates and mermaids. What is there more to love? 

15. The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab 

One of my favorite books of all time. I couldn’t stop reading it. I can’t explain why I love it so much, but so much about the book kindled my own flame. 

16. House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas

I’m trash for Sarah J. Maas, let’s just be honest. So, another book that I loved from her. 

17. Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Oh man, this book was so twisted and creepy. I love gothic stories, and Silvia did it in such a brilliant way. I loved the atmosphere and the wickedness she focused on in the world. 

18. Well Met (Well Met #1) by Jen DeLuca 

One of the very, very few romance books I liked. I loved the humor, the characters, the love story. But most importantly, RENAISSANCE FAIRES! 

19. Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust 

Oh man, this book was so cool. I love learning about Persian mythology, and this tale was so new and twisted. So, of course I loved it! Such a fascinating story and legend. 

20. Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas #1) by Zoraida Córdova 

This whole series was just great, but I loved the first one the most. The world, the culture, the characters were all so fascinating and wonderful. I loved learning more and more, while seeing what epic adventures the characters went on. 

So those are my top 20 books that I absolutely loved this year! They’re even ones I may consider rereading sometime in the future. 

Please check them all out! 

What books did you love in 2020? 

[colinfawcett]

when: October 31 and November 1, 1980

Halloween was a busy night for a single man with a four year old and his own ghost tour business.

The night began with trick-or-treating with some of his Muggle friends and their children. Simon insisted on dressing up as his favorite stuffie, Wally the Common Welsh Green. If Simon declared the specific breed of his dragon costume too loudly and the wings on his costume occasionally moved on their own just like the stuffie’s, well, what was Halloween if not a night when a little magic could be laughed off? Even the wings didn’t catch much attention though as the children ran up and down the narrow streets, giggling as they cried trick or treat and gathered their candy before running off to the next door.

Once Simon had ingested enough sugar to guarantee an Earth shattering sugar crash, Colin left him with their incredibly patient neighbor. Mrs. Henderson had practically adopted both Colin and Simon as soon as they moved into the building over a year ago, and she was always willing to help with the babysitting night shifts. “It’s going to be a late one, with the holiday and everything,” Colin said apologetically, trying to ignore the way his son was humming a song that sounded suspiciously similar to the latest WWN record that used dragon fire as a metaphor for less child-appropriate things.

Mrs. Henderson waved him on. “It’s alright dear, I have always been a bit of a night owl, you know that. Have fun with the tourists.” It was the same thing she said every time, and she had yet to turn him down for babysitting, so Colin took her word for it and left.

The tour went off without any issues, which was also worth remarking on in itself for a Halloween. He didn’t run into especially flamboyant adults wearing cloaks or find himself in the unenviable position of trying to keep Muggles distracted while something clearly magical even by Halloween standards happened behind them. Even the ghosts seem to notice it was unusually quiet, based on the two friars he overheard arguing about whether they had lost all track of time or magical folk had simply finally grown beyond the need to prank their Muggle counterparts on Halloween.

Colin didn’t pay them any mind. Rather than telling a story about a couple of religious scholars who couldn’t stop arguing even centuries later, he told a story about an arsonist nun, a story that was both spookier and more likely to get him decent tips (even though the monks had complained about its veracity more than once).

The tour ended at a “haunted” pub, and Colin accepted a couple of drinks from satisfied customers. He preferred to be paid in real money, but when one kind of tip tended to lead to the other, he couldn’t complain too much.

Between the chatty patrons at the pub, the drinks, and his own sugar crash from the candy he’d managed to steal when Simon wasn’t looking, Colin was practically dead on his feet by the time he dragged himself to his neighbor’s door after midnight. It took longer than usual for Mrs. Henderson to answer his knock, and she opened the door slowly as if unsure who would be there. As he walked in and scooped up the predictably sleeping Simon from her couch, she mentioned something about a strange breaking news bulletin, something about “witches among us, real ones, they’re saying” and “even old Maggie was in on it”. Colin was too tired to process it, so he just nodded at the right moments and then waited for a long enough pause to excuse himself.

It wasn’t Simon was settled in his own bed, Wally clutched in his tiny arms, that everything started making sense. He flipped through the typical Muggle channels on the television to the special channel he could only hope that Simon never figured out how to tune to on his own. The radio was safer, generally speaking, but with the silence of the last few weeks, he’d had to get more... bold in getting his wizarding news. Instead of the typical late night chatter he expected, he was faced with the looks of stunned news anchor who looked as if they couldn’t believe their own words. 

“…declares the Statute of Secrecy officially broken in the UK as of 12:01am, 1 November 1980. The barrier separating our world from theirs has fallen.”

Colin froze for a moment before running his hand over his face with a sigh. Well, that would certainly make his tours more interesting for the next few weeks.

[phantomnostalgist]

Classic Phantom memories - Peter Karrie at the stage door

Thanks for all the follows! I haven't attempted to look through or follow anyone back as I'll end up overwhelmed, but I'm really glad so many people are interested in past Phantoms and POTO fandom! And that the show is going to re-open after Covid with original staging intact, hooray. (Please keep your own masks on too!)

Me standing next to the poster of Peter Karrie's Phantom, outside Her Majesty's, some time in 1993.

As Peter Karrie was my favourite Phantom, I'll have to split those memories up over many posts (including Les Mis and concerts, and at some point will scan older Karrie-related playbills I collected). So I'll start with some stage door memories, and my signed playbill from his last night at HM's in 1993.

Peter was always one of the nicest guys to meet at the stage door, pretty much legendarily so, as he was very warm and down to earth, and also used to give huge hugs! I don't have a whole lot of photos from back then, but I did find this one  of myself and another fan with Peter at the stage door of Her Majesty's in 1993. I love how darn happy she looks! Ahh, the magic of stage doors. We must have met him a few times by then, as she's wearing a t-shirt from his "Beyond the Masque" concert tour (which had been a few years earlier, but we bought the t-shirts, of course). I'm only not giving her name in case she wouldn't want it included (will of course give credit if she contacts me asking for it).

Peter also took us both backstage when we went out to Toronto to see him again in 1994, though as I was lucky enough to get backstage tours at 3 theatres over the years, I can't remember specifically how much I saw that time. But I do remember seeing the Red Death costume up close as it was hanging in the wardrobe in his dressing room. (Most amazing backstage tour I ever got was also in Toronto, but from Ciaran Sheehan - story to come in future!)

As I got to work on Peter's concert tour, doing the merchandise stand (mostly 1995), my general memories of him are mushed together in time and space. And doing the merchandise stall was great, as I got to see all the shows free, travel and food paid, and make some money - plus arrive early and sit watching the set-up and sound tests, and be legitimately allowed to generally be hanging around in theatres for hours. After one concert in Cardiff, Peter's home town, I got included in having dinner afterwards with several of his family members. As I was still basically a shy socially awkward fangirl back then it would have been pretty overwhelming to me, but his mum Jean was an incredibly warm and lovely woman, who sort of took me under her wing for the evening. So I basically sat fangirling Peter Karrie with his mum, lol. Also Peter's wife Jane was always friendly and nice to me, which I appreciated as I felt fairly self-conscious about being a starry-eyed fangirl!

I think the main thing I remember about conversations with Peter over the years, along with his generosity towards fans, is laughing a lot - he tells great stories, and has a big laugh. And I remember some time in the mid 90s, him telling me about a teenage Phantom fan who'd shadowed him in the role in Toronto, who he thought had an outstanding voice and hoped would continue on to a great future in musical theatre. As the guy's name was Ramin Karimloo, it stood out to me, being unusual - and of course now stands out as someone who's maybe the biggest favourite of modern Phantoms!

As for his performance in the role, just WHOAH on every level - but I'll get to that another time! (He was my second stage Phantom - first was Peter Polycarpou, who didn't stand out to me compared to the OLC, as of course my introduction and emotional first was Michael Crawford.)

Below are pix of my signed program from his last night in the role at Her Majesty's October 9th 1993. I remember there was much weeping (of us fans), and much hugging (us fans of each other, Peter of us), and he spent some half hour or so there with us. Christine and Raoul were Jill Washington and Simon Burke, so there's a pic of their signatures too. I really liked both of them in the roles - Simon Burke I remember managing to give Raoul a bit more passion and interest than most Raouls, and Jill Washington had a beautiful voice.

Signed “To Christine, I shall miss you - Peter, 9/10/93″ (aww).

[p1nkwitch]

Ok, there are i think 5 more parts and the little arc is done, then it will be time for random bits, but maybe i will just put those directly into ao3 instead of here.

@nonbinaryeye Heeey angst fest! i feel you will like this.

Also one more thing for the next few chapters. I had to shuffle and rethink some aspects for the characters since there can only be one per session. So either Jon or Elias had to win the light player spot and im afraid its not Elias this time. Im happy with what i chose instead for him but its just a heads up. I feel it suits him well considering several of his actions.

Due to unforeseeable events that you refuse to divulge or go deeper into, you are currently tearing apart the room you are residing in. You are ELIAS BOUCHARD and you are furious beyond repair, beyond imagination and you are also HURT. That man has no right to hurt you. No right whatsoever.

PETER LUKAS is your husband and he has broken up with you, but not like usual. Not like any of the ways before. This was not him and you refuse to acknowledge it, the fact that he actually did by text was even worse. Your sprite and Jonah are both watching you in your destructive fury. Both with different expressions on their faces.

BARNABAS looks like he wants to say something, yet the acidic look that JONAHSPRITE gives him stops him on his tracks. His double is not destroying the room and the only reason he can think of is that the words that the lonely man used with him, actually cut him deep.

It had been cruel and callous in a way that Peter rarely was and even less with him, with either of them. After all he had been the first to say that Jonahsprite was just as real as he was. So to hear him say the opposite was quite jarring, not even that, but to be told he would prefer the cat back instead of him was unbelievable.

You pick up your INDESTRUCTIBLE CANE OF KNOWLEDGE and ask your question. The handle had a crystal 8 ball that would answer anything you needed.

“Does Peter Lukas love me?”

You wait for the answer, for the single word that has appeared every time you have asked that same question since getting the weapon in question. Sometimes you were in a land on your own and the man would not answer back your messages, so you asked the object and knew without a doubt that Peter was just being stubborn and nothing else.

Its not because you loved to hear the confirmation of it.

The ball goes from clear and shiny to dull and grey with fog inside it.

NO

It takes a few seconds to comprehend what you just read, shaking it again you asks.

“Is Peter Lukas in love with me?”

NO

You start to pace and breathe harder.

“Does Peter have any feelings for me??!!”

The words take longer to appear as if it was trying to parse them through, but the answer leaves Elias frozen in place, feeling a deep pit of despair.

HE FEELS INDIFFERENCE AND HATE

PETER LUKAS CAN'T CARE ABOUT JONAH MAGNUS

“Why?!” You punch and hit the wall out of pure rage instinct and hurt. The others in the room flinch. The anger, hurt and grief is too much and you end up letting a sound more animalistic than human.

You don't expect it to tell you an answer, it's not that good yet for full complete answers, but somehow it does.

It's not the answer you wanted.

THE EYE HAS NOT GLANCED TO THE LONELY

AND THE FOG HAS TAKEN A HOLD OF HIM

IT TOOK HIS HEART AND NOW ITS HOLLOWED OUT

THE SPIDER SPINS HER WEB ON HIM

AND NOW THE EMPTY MAN THINKS HE HAS NOTHING

CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF

You are-

No

Elias is done with the narrative, done with the game and the web that got him here.

The thief of heart walks out while the other two follow, he goes until he finds the room he was looking for. Annabelle, Jon, Oliver, Martin, Basira and Melanie are there.

“So you started this and told no one?? What now, we are dooming another world again? Is that it, how many times can you-”

“What did you tell him Miss Cane?” The room goes quiet and everyone stares at him.

“What is wrong with you-”

“Melanie if you don't shut up i will leave you brain dead before you can stab me again. Annabelle what did you tell him to convince him to help?” Said woman was staring at him with mild interest, but did not seem to care much. Annabelle was the only one of them left who had not reached god tier and was in her original body.

Melanie started to move in his direction but the detective stopped her.

“I told him the truth, that there is no other way out, he went willingly if that's what you are concerned about. I did not lie or manipulate him in any way. As for anything else, i told him what he already was thinking, but did not want to say out loud” She waves him away as if it was nothing, as if she just didn't basically ensnared him and doomed him.

“You should treat your toys more kindly less someone else picks them up to play with them. Then again… you do have a history to turn a blind eye to the lonely when its picking apart something you care about” Her eyes turn to something on his back and he knows Barnabas and Jonah are there.

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan, curious as always.

“He just wants to know how I got Peter to help me start the scratch. I just asked very nicely and explained myself and he went willingly that's all, he starts it and Simon gets all of us out”

“Yes, but we leave him behind don't we?” Her smile has fangs on it.

“A price he was happy to pay as long as he was alone, it is the only thing he asked for” No, he is not losing this easily.

“Tell him to stop”

“I'm afraid I can't, and even if I did, he would not listen, too far gone. He is taking the worst parts of his aspect and mixing it with forsaken he is a lost cause now. I'm sure once we make a new earth you can find a replacement, it's in your nature after all to interchange Lukas for Lukas”

Elias is fairly reasonable, he only ever acts out in panic and when he knows he has an advantage.

Which is why he doesn't understand why the next thing he knows is that he is bashing her skull with the INDESTRUCTIBLE CANE OF KNOWLEDGE, over and over again, his ears were ringing and he was sure he could hear the others yelling at him, an arm tries to grab him and he shoves as much painful knowledge into the head of whoever is trying to stop him that they release him.

Before the first hit connected with her head however, Elias actually saw the surprise and fear in her eyes. Annabelle did not expect him to react like this.

She did not expect him to care at all.

By the time he is done, her body is lying on the ground with cobwebs and spiders spilling out of the remains of her crushed head. Breathing hard he looks around and sees everyone with their weapons raised at him, except for Basira who was on the floor holding her head and Oliver who merely nodded at him.

He already knew someone was going to die.

Oh.

“I- i think i might have overreacted” The faces of sheer incredulity hit him and before any of them try to stop him Jonah grabs his shoulder.

“He will be in the land of Time, if we hurry..” They won't make it back he knows.

Elias doesn't want to die, but he is so angry at Peter.

No, he is furious at him. After all this time and after everything.

This is not how it ends.

Holding the cane he makes a run for the window and jumps out.

He flies as fast as he can to go and beat up his husband to death. If Peter shall die it would be by his hand, he won't let him leave him first, not like this. Elias will never let him have the last word over him and will not let him die like he wants either.

[roseofithaca]

Two Pairs of Glasses and a Bottle of Red

Chidi goes to say thank you to Michael for being there for Eleanor.

“Hey…Did I go back in time?”

It probably seems that way, Michael smirks, considering the multiple boxes containing Hawaiian pizza that have been stacked up around his new office.

“Welcoming present from Shawn and Vicky, I reckon.” He says to Chidi, waving a few of them away to allow him entry, the Professor having to slide around them in order to reach the chair in front of Michael’s desk.

His request for a perfect replica of his previous office had otherwise been met to the last detail. It had simply come with the extra bonus of seventy boxes of pizza only a mad man would eat.

He can’t be too annoyed. As demonic hazing attempts go, this one seems rather light-hearted. Almost nostalgic. Perhaps he really was getting the chance to repair some burned bridges with his former colleagues. It wasn’t something that ever appealed to him before but is oddly satisfying now.

“How does it feel to be back?” asks his friend.

Michael shrugs, “Weird. Kinda miss my second neighbourhood already. I know it wasn’t around as long as my first one but it felt like part of the same one, y’know? It’s good to know it’s still there this time. I wish you had all agreed stay there rather than coming here with me.”

Even with Shawn’s guarantee of the humans protection that binds the rest of the demon, Michael can’t help but be weary. He knows there’s a lot of employees unhappy with the shake-up, more than half who are perfectly happy torturing humans as their job, whether they deserve it or not. They would be more than ready to take their work frustrations out on the four people who are the reason for this shake up, the first one in fifty thousand years. Even Janet stands the risk of being marbleized again if she lets her guard down, it wouldn’t be the first time.

He wishes they had agreed to stay tucked safe back at the Good Place 2.0. But the little cockroaches had been stubborn as ever.

“Are you kidding? As if we’d let you have all the fun sorting out dimension of frustrated demons on our own.” Chidi smiles.

“I never thought I’d see you describe having to deal with a bunch of demons as fun.”

Another way of saying that, of all the infinite wonders of the Universe he’s experienced, he never thought he’d get to see Chidi be cool.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still wanna scream like a little girl when one of the lava monsters passes me. But then it says hi and I remember it’s just Todd.”

Good to know confident Chidi can still be scared when Michael feels an old desire. He’ll remember that.

Even he feels the need to relive old habits at times. In a safe, harmless, controlled way of course.

“Did you need me to help with anything, pal?” He asks, “I thought you and Eleanor would be getting settled into your new apartment? They cleaned out the rat-snakes, right?”

Not the best living quarters but he tried to find the comfiest temporary homes for all of them, not able to design and build them their own places as before in this area where he has no control as an Architect. He at least managed to get Tahani a penthouse suite, even if it is at the top of a volcano.

“You didn’t tell us those were the previous occupants, they had to come back to collect some stuff they left. But it’s all good, I left Eleanor to ‘wear in the new couch and test drive the TV’ as she put it.”

Michael smiles to himself. After the year she’s had, she more than deserves to put her feet up. He doesn’t tell Chidi how little she slept while he went away. Not that she needed it, or that Michael didn’t try to encourage it, but he reckons she could now sleep for a week if she wanted.

“Actually…Eleanor is kinda why I’m here.” Chidi admits, Michael noticing the serious change in his tone.

“Oh. Did you wanna sit down?” He gestures to the chair, waving his hand again to clear it of more of the boxes.

Chidi shakes his head, hands in his pockets.

“No thanks, I’m gonna need to stand.”

“Why’s that?” Michael frowns.

“Because there’s a chance I might hug you and this will make it less awkward.”

Michael goes still, not sure how to respond to that. There’s always been an unspoken physical distance between him and the Professor, more so than with any of the other humans. He’d had the most hugs with Eleanor, followed by Jason’s which always left him smelling jalapenos, and a few recent ones with Tahani (which, he couldn’t deny, were simply amazing, how on Earth could he parents not adore her?!). The most contact he’d had with Chidi was a fist bump on the few times they saw eye-to-eye.

Not that Michael can blame the guy for wanting to keep a safe distance, given how he used to be the main target of Michael’s more jerky conduct in the past. He’s probably only now stopped expecting him to splatter him with fake blood or a shower of needles.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“…Thank me? For what exactly?” The three hundred years of torture that he’d recently been accessed to?

“For…everything, man.” Chidi says, face lighting up with gratitude; “For taking my classes seriously…eventually. For saving us, even when it cost you literally everything you had been working for until then…Sacrificing yourself for us, bringing us back from the dead, saving us, donating all that money to make sure we were okay and then helping to save, not only us, but humanity itself, I mean…You really weren’t expecting a few thank yous thrown your way?”

Michael looks away, feeling the heat rise beneath the cheeks of his skin suit. He didn’t do any of it expecting a thank you and, up until now, he hadn’t really received any. A few unspoken, grateful smiles from the others, a pleasant stroke of his arm, but never the two words said aloud.

“I’d do it all over again.” He says, earnestly, still not believing it was enough to undo the centuries of psychological harm he’d inflicted on them to begin with.

“I believe you. I mean, I’ll be honest, when you first started taking my classes, there was a point I thought you were beyond help but…I can tell you with the utmost sincerity…I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of one of my students.”

Oh, fork, the pesky nerd is going to bring him to tears.

Michael sniffs; “Yeah, well…I had an amazing teacher. You only have yourself to thank. And Eleanor, obviously…She’s the one who got me to take all your ethical nonsense seriously.”

If not for her, he’d still be sat at his desk in his old office with his feet up, refusing to budge, refusing to be the bigger not-man and apologize and admit he needs help. Shawn might jokingly call him a demon daddy but it was the two of them together who got him to grow up.

Chidi gives a wistful smile; “Yeah…Eleanor is the answer. That’s clearer to me than ever.”

Damn straight.

“Thank you for looking after her for me this year.”

Those words make something buckle deep within Michael. His thumb starts to itch at his side.

“You should know her well enough by now to know she usually has to be the one looking after me.” He tries to laugh it off but there’s an uncomfortable stinging in his chest.

What is wrong with him?

“We both know she’s not invulnerable as she likes to pretend. Leaving her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do…but I had no choice.”

Yes, you did, Michael stops himself from saying, the ethical voice in his chastising his own.

“I know.” Is what he says instead.

He respects the guy for not letting himself be a potential risk to the experiment and everyone’s eternal safety. He’s been there himself.

“I remember seeing you two together, when I was ‘away’ all that time.” He says, again surprising Michael with the brief use of air quotes – who is this guy? “You looked like you had fun together, ruling that fake Heaven. You were always smiling together. Right up until the end, I mean, that evil laugh the two of you did....I know she enjoyed that, even if it was terrifying for me at the time. I’m glad to know she was okay…And I think a lot of that is down to you.”

He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to remember the feel of her hips in his hands when he’d grabbed her waist during their Hail Mary; “Or maybe Eleanor is just that strong-willed…”

“That too but…C’mon, man, I know you care about her as much as I do.”

More than the dweeb could ever know, Michael thinks to himself. He never intended to play favorites and he appreciates all of them in their own special way; Tahani’s grace, Jason’s optimism, Chidi’s kindness as much as his intellect…But Eleanor…Eleanor was as much like himself as he could ever hope to meet and yet, somehow, a thousand times better. Braver, wiser, sharper…Everything he could only dream of being.

“I’m just relieved to know that, if I have to go away again, she’ll always have you there.” Chidi says, softly.

That buckling sensation inside Michael finally snaps.

He clenches his jaw.

“No.”

Chidi blinks; “Sorry?”

“I said no.” The voice of his long-buried demon husk rears its head; “You’re not to go away again, do you hear? You’re not allowed to…leave her again.”

“I…”

The Professor inches back a bit as Michael makes a move forward, the desk his only protection from the demon grabbing him by his sweater-vest.

“You think she was all smiles and laughter during the past year?” He growls, “Let me tell you something, buddy, those were just glimpses of your girlfriend you saw there as you passed us on the street or at all those events! You didn’t have to stay up with her all those nights she cried over how much she missed you or how worried she was that having to put you with Simone would change your feelings for her, all because you were too much of a dummy to help that woman out without believing she was your soul mate!”

He sees the other man recoil at that, wincing with shame. Michael suffers the recoil, feeling the twist in his gut, but now that the bottle cap on his emotions has been popped, he has a years worth of anger and resentment to spill.

“Did my little reload of all your memories happen to miss out that time you saw her break down in tears because you told her you felt like you were being punished?! Because I’d convinced her you needed to be tortured so you would stop flitting around like you were on vacation and actually lend a hand to help that deckwad Brent, but she went too far, because she was rightly pissed at you for leaving and ended up hating herself for it! And yeah, I admit, I was pissed at you too for breaking her heart when I’d trusted you, of all people, to take care of it!”

He can see Chidi’s shoulders hunched now, a grimace appearing on his face as a stomach-ache brews within him. Good. He’s not immune to those. They’re just no longer rendering him immobile with pain.

“The last thing I wanted to do was hurt…”

“Then you should’ve thought about that before you left! You should have gotten over your stupid anxiety about Simone before considering leaving her! What on Earth is wrong with you, man?! How could you be so lucky to fall in love with Eleanor Shellstrop and be blessed to have her love you back, and then agree to forget her?! After everything she’s been through, how could you do that to her?! How could you think it was okay to leave her with me as a piss poor substitute and then have the gaul to waltz back in here after a year and say ‘thanks for looking after her’?! You don’t deserve her!”

He regrets those last four words before they’ve passed his lips.

By the time the red mist has parted from his eyes, he sees the tears in Chidi’s eyes as they lock across the desk. Michael’s throat goes dry. He takes a step back back, only noticing how wet his own eyes are when he finally blinks. Oh shit. How could he say that? As if thinking it had been bad…Had been wrong enough, but to finally…

“Chidi. I am…Oh, I am so, so sorry…” He breathes.

The other man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t deny the accusations, which somehow makes it worse.

The most agonising of silences hangs between them before they seem to move at the exact same moment. The both of them removing their glasses at the same time to give them a wipe, Michael using his handkerchief while Chidi uses his sleeve.

“Damn, these things steam up quick, huh…” Chidi says, awkwardly, his voice broken.

Michael gives a weak smile; “I don’t even need mine, they’re just for aesthetic…Speaking of which, if you ever want me to fix that astigmatism, just say, you shouldn’t really have it dead.”

“No, no, it’s fine…Like you said, it’s part of the look.”

Michael lets out a sigh, partly relieved to get those words out, awful as they are. He’s eternally grateful that the other man didn’t storm out of the room and slam the door. He wouldn’t have blamed him. It hurt enough that he no longer had Eleanor at his side, his partner in crime and saving the Universe, her constant shining spirit and quick-wit lighting up the room. It hurt knowing that her time and companionship had been prioritised to someone more worthy of her. He’d tried so hard to ignore the ache of her missing presence, when it had only been a couple of days since the experiment ended. He should have remembered that burying his sadness only made it worse in the long run. One of her first lessons and he’d forgot.

He was the one who didn’t deserve her. How dare he ever say that Chidi was the one to blame in all of this, after everything the man had given up, had missed out on?

With another wave of his hand, Michael summons a bottle of merlot, one of Chidi’s favorite vintages, along with a couple of glasses. His friend sniffs again, giving a grateful smile. They’re both in need of a drink.

They each take a glass and a seat at either edge of the desk, their backs to each other.

Michael takes a sip and then looks down at the glass in his lap.

“What’s it like?” He dares to ask, after a while, “….Being with her?”

There’s a pause behind him.

“…You’re asking me what love feels like?”

He shakes his head; “I know what being in love feels like.” That might say more than enough, “…I’m asking how it feels to have her love you back.”

Michael has been content on the scraps of affection he gets, like a dog sitting at his master’s table at dinner, those smiles and jokes and fleeting hugs more than enough to keep him grateful and satisfied with the place he’s honoured to take in Eleanor’s heart. But he’s not entirely reformed, there’s still a tiny wicked side that dares to be greedy, that dares to…imagine, what it would be like to be truly hers. Surely, just once, he can be allowed to live vicariously.

Once again, he’s amazed that Chidi doesn’t chew him out, smash him over the head with the wine bottle and leave. Instead he hears the Professor take another sip.

“How do I describe it? I mean…I’ve had girlfriends before, as you know, but I never…I was in never truly in love before her.” He explains, heavily; “When I’m with her, when she’s with me…It’s like all those difficult questions and puzzles of the Universe suddenly fit. Or what remains unsolved fades into the background and…I stop worrying about it all. Because all I need to know, when she’s there…is that she’s there. She looks at me and, wherever we are in these insane dimensions we keep falling through, from Heaven to Hell, to that weird pancake nightmare…So long as she’s with me…I belong. I’m home.”

Michael smiles, moving his hand up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. He always assumed it would feel something like that, based on the fleeting sense of peace he found in those moments with Eleanor. He’d never felt at home in Hell, with his fellow demons. He already knew he would never be accepted or belong with those dorky angels on the other side. The closest he had ever come to feeling at home was on Earth and that was also off the table. He’d spent his whole existence as an ugly duckling searching for swans that were probably long extinct.

But he knew what being part of a home…a family, felt like, a little. Especially during the past year, when they were a team, there were times he could almost convince himself that where he was always meant to be was at her side. Her equal. Two sides of the same coin. But every time that hope of feeling complete at last would appear, it would be cruelly snatched away, every time that grief of missing her true love appeared on her face. And he would be lost again.

“You’re a lucky man, Chidi.” He tells his friend, truly.

He hears him shuffle to look around behind him; “You know she loves you too? Right?”

He shrugs; “Yeah, sure…”

“C’mon, Michael. I’ve seen the two of you together, since you joined up with us.” Chidi tries, reaching to touch his elbow; “You’re like…a part of her. She needs you as much as me.”

He wishes there was truth to that.

“Tell me something, man,” He asks, looking down at the fingers on his arm; “How many tears did Eleanor shed over me after I gave her my pin and sent her through the portal after you guys?”

Chidi slowly brings his hand back to his lap.

“I…Uhm…” he frowns; “Well, we didn’t really have time for that…She wasn’t exactly skipping about it-.”

“Did she mention me once again before me and Janet turned up?”

The other man doesn’t respond.

“Thought not.” Michael refills his glass; “And rightly so, you guys had way more important things at hand. But, let’s be honest, if it had been you who was left behind, she would have screamed at that Judge to get you to come join her, or fought her way back through Hell to get to you…It’s always been you, Chidi, it always will. In every reboot, lovers or not, you were the missing piece she sought out. I’m grateful to be her friend but let’s not pretend we’re on equal footing. It’s not fair on either of us.”

“I think you doing yourself a disservice-.”

“Has she told you about Bad Janet yet?” Michael cuts in again; “That was a fun night. I mean it sucked, it was one of the worst of the year, but it was…interesting, if nothing else. We had no idea what was sabotaging the experiment and, to cut a long story short, the suspicion fell on me being the spanner in the works. The only thing I could do to restore Eleanor’s trust in me was offer to blow myself up.”

“WHAT?!” Chidi exclaims, nearly spilling his wine.

“Oh, you wait till I get to the part where Jason figures it out and saves the day!”

“Okay, now I know you’re lying.”

They manage to share another brief laugh. It’s a lot easier to find it funny now, all these months on, despite it being the night Michael’s heart was shattered and, despite everything good that came after, created a crack that was still waiting to be repaired. Possibly never.

“Point is…She barely said a word against me taking myself out. But you? I mean, you had to convince her just to forget her for a year and look what it did to her.” Michael says, “I could vanish from her life tomorrow and, sure, she’d be bummed…but if it was you? Even in death, she wouldn’t survive that. That’s how much you mean to her. Don’t ever take it for granted.”

Michael knows he won’t. He just needed to give him that kick in the ash to be certain he knew how serious this was. For both of them.

“I’m sorry.” The professor whispers.

“What for?” Michael asks, “You did the one thing I never could. You made the woman we both love happy. I’m just glad I get to share in that, even if I’m not the cause.”

He hears Chidi put down his glass on the desk and stand up. Michael takes it as his cue to get on his feet as well, turning to face the other man.

“I’d quite like to give you that hug now, if that’s all right.” He says.

Michael rolls his eyes, as if inconvenienced.

“I suppose, if you must.”

Chidi takes the first step to bridge the gap between them, holding his arms out as Michael mirrors his movements and they share their first embrace. He hopes it’s one of many to come.

He can’t help but be surprised, as ever, by the tightness of the other man’s hold. It was always easy to forget how strong he was underneath that dorky outfit, those jacked arms and pecks strangely reassuring to the touch. He can understand the appeal for Eleanor. It seemed more forgivable now for her to constantly tease him of his own physical shortcoming compared to the man she loved.

“I hope you know how much you mean to all of us. Not just Eleanor.” The Professor tells him, as sternly as he used to lecture him in the past.

He gives the guy’s shoulders a pat.

“I do, buddy.”

Chidi is the first to move back, his hands still firm on Michael’s arms as he regards him, intently.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” He asks, “You never told her?”

Michael shakes his head, heavy with regret he can’t begin to describe.

“I was going to. When Janet saved me from Shawn, as we were going through the portal, I told myself…” He takes a breath, “I told myself that I’d been given a second chance and that, next time I saw her, I’d tell her. I’d tell her how I felt and I’d ask if she felt the same and…Take it from there.”

“What happened to that plan?”

Michael can’t help but laugh. It’s amazing what an idiot the genius can be at times.

“You kissed her first, dummy.”

And when he saw the smile on her face...how he could ever dare to come between anything that made her that happy again?

The door opens and Eleanor strides in, a bounce in her step that hasn’t been there for almost thirteen months.

Even with the office in a new location, she’s able to treat it as if it’s Michael’s usual home, free for her to walk in and own when she pleases. The demon behind the desk who quickly steps back doesn’t complain, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Well, don’t you two look all cosy!” She says, brightly; “You guys having a pizza party without me?”

Her arms immediately wrap around Chidi’s neck and he greets her with a kiss on the lips.

“Ham and pineapple, babe,” He doesn’t tell her she missed out on the wine, that can be their little secret; “But if you fancy pizza for dinner, Todd recommended a place on the corner of our street?”

“Oh yeah, they do a great meat feast…I mean, some of the salami used to be sliced humans but I’m pretty sure Shawn is recalling all of those.” Michael says, off-hand.

Eleanor barely seems to hear his commentary.

Her eyes are focused purely on the man she’s been pining for all these months, hands hooked behind his neck, humming as she presses her nose against his. Michael looks away, knowing he’s no more than a blurry shape in the corner of her eye now.

“Whatever, I’m starving…You’ve kept me waiting long enough, dude, time to fill me up.” She says to Chidi, her voice low but not quite subtle; “And we can food too, I guess.”

“Eleanor!” Her boyfriend blushes on behalf of the third wheel having to listen in.

“Oh, it’s just Michael, he knows what filth to expect from me, right bud?” She says aloud without looking at him again, merely expecting him to be there.

Would it even matter how he responded?

Would she hear him if he confessed, out loud, how he wished it was his chest that she was leaning against, his shoulders she was hanging from, her lips against his? Would she react with anything other than laughter if he told her about what he was planning to do at the Judge’s chambers all those years ago?

“Our love is stronger than anything you can throw at us.”

Even his own, he humbly accepts.

“Michael, do you wanna join us for dinner?” Chidi asks.

Before the demon can respond, Eleanor does it for him.

“Oh I’m sure Michael wants a break after having to put up with me for a year, right dude?” Eleanor gives him her first direct look since she entered, followed by a wink.

Of course. He wasn’t going to intrude anyway, but he’s nothing if not a good wingmon.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve had more than enough pizza for one day….You guys should catch up. You’ve only got eternity together.” He smiles.

Eleanor mouths a ‘thank you’ before leaning back up to kiss Chidi’s bottom lip again.

Anytime… He sighs and looks away, Anytime, I’m yours.

Every kiss he watches them share is both parts pleasure and pain. Obviously, he’ll take the truth with him to retirement or whatever his end will be. No way would he risk tarnishing what they have. He’s happy to remain in the shadows, grateful to be allowed to watch the light shine nearby, even if it’s forever beyond his touch, beyond the cruel hope of getting to feel that warmth on the skin of a body that isn’t truly his.

“Well…if you horny mammals don’t mind, some of us have some work to do.” He puts on the smug superior being mask again, “And you’re no longer my boss, Shellstrop, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to tell you to get out.”

“What d’you say to me?” She throws him a glare.

Fuck. Nope. Damn it, she’s still in charge.

“I mean…Have a good time at dinner.”

She giggles, knowing full well the power she wields over the two men in the room.

“That’s better.” She looks back up at Chidi, eyes shining with a joy they’ve not possessed in far too longer; “Let’s go, my new confident, sexy nerd.”

“Do you still have to call me a nerd?”

“Take the damn compliments.” She tugs on his hand, pulling him out of the room with her.

Michael puts the wine away.

“I’ll see you guy later…” He wishes, as casually as he can.

“Yeah, see you, bud.” Eleanor throws back, her mind clearly on more important things, with barely enough room left in her horny, lovesick brain to pay him notice anymore.

Chidi, however, meets his eyes, almost apologetic again, on her behalf.

“Don’t be a stranger, Michael.” He tells him, almost as an order.

The demon nods. No, sir.

“You know where to find me.” Always right there, for all of them.

Despite the hallow ache in his hearts, despite knowing that spark, that unbeatable connection he shared with the woman he loves, is now gone, that he’ll always be looking in from the outside, left out with his memories of what they could have been…He keeps Chidi’s words in his head. It might be the end of whatever beautiful mess he had with one of his humans, but perhaps it’s also the start of a friendship he didn’t realise how badly he needed with another.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

12. The Apex is Falling

This is the longest chapter of this story at a whopping  6819 words. I hated making a chapter that long for this fic in this fandom, but like... I just couldn’t break it anywhere that I thought about. So, sorry about that bit, folks. I don’t know if anything here is necessarily triggering, mostly just sort of sad and troubling.

Previous

The Monroes did not appreciate the amount of retroactive damage control that they had to do behind Grace’s former behavior, however. As it was, they did spin the story in order to paint Grace as a girl who felt threatened and needed to defend herself. They were mostly disappointed that she lied to them and that her lies weren’t buried. If she was going to lie, she could have at least made sure that it never saw the light of day! Her mother wasn’t currently speaking to her and her father was being as extreme in his rules as ever before. She had embarrassed them. She embarrassed them at the Corn Dog Express, and CERTAINLY when the assault allegations arose. She didn’t see the need to point out that the first was actually Simon, not her, because her mother had been very vocal about how stupid it was to leave her wallet behind, “As though Simon ever has money!”

It wasn’t worth explaining to her that Simon usually carried her small items in his pockets when they were together and she had presumed that he had her wallet. It wasn’t worth speaking at all, because her mother was so infuriated with her that after she completed her obligatory bitching about things, she began her unscheduled silent treatment. Nothing that Grace would say would matter until Mrs. Monroe deemed her worthy of regaining her attention. 10 year old grace would have fallen apart. Soon to be 16 year old Grace just took her verbal berating with a grain of salt and the mental note that Simon was on her shitlist.  

Their birthdays weren’t too far from each other’s. Simon’s fell towards the end of August and hers was about a month later, so they generally combined birthday efforts, and this year, they were turning 16. That meant a lot of big things for Simon. He was going to be liberated from his parent’s guardianship, he had his permit and only needed to take a test for his license, he would be old enough to work a real job, and all of those combined things meant that he would legally be an adult. This is extremely important to him. 

Children had no power. They couldn’t make money. They couldn’t legally drive. They couldn’t find a home and live by their own rules. It was an excruciating reality, and no matter how much he tried to prove his worth in the real world, as long as he had no legality to his adulthood, people didn’t take him as seriously as they should have. He didn’t like that. This was the first birthday that he was looking forward to since his childhood. 

Grace wasn’t as stoked about hers. She was so disinterested that she wanted them to have their birthday party closer to his birthday, instead. Her mother absolutely shot that idea down. She was going to have a very big and deliberate Sweet 16 party and was going to invite every single famous person that she now knew, along with the most upstanding students at the academy, and the children of politicians and entrepreneurs that the Monroes respected and valued. Simon didn’t mind waiting a month for a party like that, at all. Plus, it would give him time to maybe gather up the nerve to ask her out, officially. Her birthday was technically September 23 at 6:45 am, but the party was on Saturday the 22, and would still be happening at Midnight, which would be considered her birth date. So, he wanted to ask her then. He wanted to get her a gift. Not to add to her hope chest like all of her tribute trinkets, but something that would show that she was his. He had ideas for years. A lot of them, very expensive, ergo impossible. Some of them, complicated, ergo improbable. He wanted to do something that he had the power or skill to do, that was also a worthy offering to her of himself and his emotions, and still have it be something that she would also enjoy.

He was fortunate that as her long term right hand, he had the power of the Apex on his side. The rich kids at school who lived for her were more than willing to contribute to his cause and her girl sect went above and beyond being helpful in arranging things and assisting in his planning process. The main mission was complete secrecy. He didn’t want anyone involved to speak with anyone else about their role or donation. He wanted it to be a surprise to her and everyone else. He wanted to woo her in the most memorable way and to create something so magnificent that there wouldn’t be a single doubt in her mind that here was a man who wanted her more than anything. He smiled to himself thinking about his elaborate gesture.

“What are you smiling about?” She asked, looking up from her book. He blushed, thinking about her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips, then looking at him with love in her eyes, ready to be everything to him. “Simon, really. What the heck are you thinking about right now?”

“Being happy,” he said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”

“That I have never heard my Simon speak about being happy in the almost 6 years that I’ve known him, so you’re obviously one of his little figures, but life size and able to communicate… and I don’t doubt that Simon has the smarts to create such a thing, but the funding… I’d be confused on where he got the funding.” He let out a little chuckle and leaned back in his seat. He was working on his assignment again, but he was still smiling to himself. Weird.

That wasn’t the only weird thing that he did lately. He began to keep himself up more. It wasn’t that he didn’t take care of himself, but he was more of a functional, hygienic than the extra care that he was now taking into stuff like his eyebrows and fingernails. He used to just either let them grow out of sheer apathy, clip them out of annoyance that he’d let them get too long, or chipped them in his day to day and bit off the crooked parts when he did. Now, he seemed like he was giving himself manicures. His nails looked healthy and cared for. His cuticles seemed nourished and smooth. And he smelled amazing now. Like, not like he picked up whatever antiperspirant was cheapest when he passed the aisle, but like he was making attempts to be fresh and clean and… attractive! “OH MY GOD, YOU’VE got a crush on somebody!” she said.

She saw a shimmer in his gray eyes and she laughed and looked around. “Who is it? I know that she’s Apex. You’d never look twice at a null. BUT… I have no idea what your type is. I remember whenever you would get all clammy whenever that redhead girl came around.”

“What? No I didn't. I would always get nauseated, because she always had on so much perfume that it unsettled my stomach and made me feel like I’d break out in hives.”

“So… not her, then.” She studied around the campus. “I’m gonna find out who she is.”

“What will you say to her?” He asked, and rested his tongue on his upper canines as he smiled at her.

“Hi, I’m Grace. I’m sure you know me as one half of Grace and Simon, also known as The Apex. I’m here to tell you that it’s your lucky day, because Simon himself has his eyes set on you. I strongly recommend that you give him a chance. I can’t make you, but it would really be in your best interest, because he’s an amazing guy… And if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you. Hahaha… Just Kidding! Unless you hurt him, and then I’m not.” 

He started laughing and something settled in his eyes as he looked at her. She stopped smiling, slowly, and collected her things, “I should get to dance so that I'll have enough time to tie these locs up. Are you… gonna tell her, ever? Or, is it just something that you like having in your mind for nobody else to taint?”

“Will you stop looking for her if I answer this?”

“Scouts honor.”

“You’re not a scout.”

“Half of me is,” she said and gestured towards him. He laughed again. This was the cheeriest that Simon had been.

“Okay, well… I’m definitely going to eventually speak to her about it.” His smile was very warm and he looked… genuinely happy. Like, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so much so, not even when they were doing great fun things together. It was like he had some sort of peace that he found. She HOPED that she wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

“Well… What if… she’s not interested in you?” She asked, trying not to look right at him as she asked.

“Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to give me a chance, since I’m such an amazing guy?” He asked back, still smiling, still content.

“I did say that.” She nodded her head. “And I did mean it, but what if… she doesn’t, you know, think of you in THAT way?” Now, his smile faltered and he thought for a while. She wondered if he was registering what she was trying to go around saying.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, concerned. She moved her legs nervously, dancing around and he stood up, grabbing his things to walk with her. “What’s wrong with me?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nothing. But, what if… well… what if she’s like me?” He looked confused. “Like… What if she never thinks about stuff like that? What if she once kissed the person that she loved more than anything and it only registered to her as something soft and wonderful… but nothing like the way that people describe kisses are supposed to be? What if she thinks that you’re the best thing on earth, but… she just doesn’t feel certain things? Would you still want her, if she can’t want you in the same way?”

“Are you… coming out as something, Grace?”

“I guess so. I’m just… I guess with you moving on to other relationships, I’m wondering where I stand.”

“There will never be anyone that comes before you…”

“That’s a bad start, if you like somebody else, Simon. But, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I know that you have certain feelings. I’ve seen it. I don’t have those. Someday, when our friendship isn’t enough to fulfill your connection with someone, I guess, I’m wondering if you think that somebody like you would be able to connect with somebody like me… when I can’t reciprocate everything.”

“Are you… Like… Asexual?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never had to think about it before. The only guy that I’ve ever been close to has always been my best friend. I’m just warning you. Fake relationship that we’re having in front of my dad aside, you should ask yourself if you would still want this girl if she was… like me.” 

“I would… I do,” he said nodding his head.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it. I’d want you, no matter what.”

She playfully elbowed him, “You mean “her.” 

He caught her elbow and her attention when he did so. “Could you? Being… the way you are? Do you want to have somebody who wants you?”

“I don’t want to be alone, and I have feelings, if that’s what you're asking. Just… not the ones that people our age tend to seek out. I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be… But, I already have that. I guess it just now occurred to me that getting older maybe means losing that, because you’ll eventually want and need more, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to deliver what needs you might have. Or the next person. Or the next...” Her eyes were a little damp. 

Simon heard what she said, and it even made sense to him on some level. However, looking at her, with the school approved scarf tying her locs up and forward, her face all natural and flawless, save the tears trying to form in her eyes, and her long, perfect legs bouncing nervously just thinking about losing him… What she was saying just didn’t really matter to him. It couldn’t matter. What she was saying meant that he might have to move on from his soul mate. He didn’t WANT to hear that part. He heard the part that did matter to him.

I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. She sank into his side, as usual and they kept walking.

.

The number 16 was lit up in the sky with fireworks. It was set to be there all night. If it began to fade, the paid pyrotechnician would release another. The attire was “Heavenly Extravaganza,” and they were calling it her “Celestial Sixteen,” instead of “sweet.” All of the hired help were dressed in white, silver, and gold gaudy Victorian styled costume, and Mrs. Monroe literally had a set built in their ballroom, to have a tower upon which she and Mr. Monroe could sit on “heavenly thrones.” Her Queen of Heaven outfit was much like something you might see in a very high budget film about a royal queen, and her husband’s suit matched. The Monroes and Simon were dressed in gold, with jewelry and sparkles.

Grace and Simon had both been taken to a styling center. Their outfits, hair, body, and things that Simon wouldn’t have even thought about were all surrendered to Mrs. Monroe’s team of professionals to have them be flawless for their entry. Simon was listed as Grace’s escort, but her mother had worked very hard to make sure that they had the matching attire she had for this vision of hers, and that there was no possibility that they forgot to do anything, if left to get themselves ready. Grace was more used to this than Simon was (even for the school dances that he always attended with Grace, he was styled, but generally took care of himself besides that). He didn’t usually have to do a spa day and detox, and sophisticated beauty treatments. He liked it though. 

Simon felt like a king. Grace felt like a doll.

She hated these appointments. Sure, she felt wonderful afterwards, but that was typically short lived once she had to get prepared by the team. She was pressed into a dress and standing for the time it took to steam it to be certain that there were no wrinkles, then getting placed into the vehicle - tonight a white limousine covered in bling crystals, and driven to the estate, where all of her Apex fans would be clustered outside, but barricaded (Simon convinced her mother to sell tickets to stand outside of the property and watch Grace come down the red carpet).

The sun had not yet set and Grace could see countless faces that had no real characteristics, except for lipstick prints on their faces that they had their friends kiss on or drew on themselves or something, in varying degrees of red (none of which were Apex Red), and inexpensive formal attire. She was much better at remembering attire than faces, and she didn’t know any of these fans, so it was lipstick marks and public school prom gowns that she and Simon walked down, towards the party, where Apex members that Simon hand selected were allowed to stand on the sides and receive them without barricades (guards were nearby). 

Simon felt like royalty. Grace felt like a spectacle.

Simon had been to Monroe events before. This topped everything! Mrs. Monroe had allowed him to collaborate with stylists on his attire, and they customized things based upon some of his wishes and on the design of Grace’s gown. He was allowed to be behind the scenes and work with planners for various details and things. 

Grace hadn’t been the least bit interested. She never was and quite frankly was a little annoyed that Simon was so into it, but she didn’t press too hard, since she knew he liked setting up scenes for his figures and stuff and guessed that this was all similar for him. She ragged on him about it a little bit, but got bored with it, since he paid her very little attention.

After that, she spent the party planning time writing music and working on songs. Mrs. Monroe wanted her to learn a dance for the party, but she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Simon and I can just do the waltz we did freshman year.” Simon looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“I don’t remember that dance!” he said, laughing uneasy.

“I didn’t say Simon and you, I said you need to learn a dance,” Mrs. Monroe told her. Grace had her tongue stuck out, thinking as she wrote down notes on sheet paper and hummed, with her mother and Simon’s voices barely registering to her. “Grace!” She snapped her head up and the woman shook her own head and said, “Simon, handle her,” before walking off, heels clacking on the floor. 

Grace laughed and imitated in her exaggerated British accent that she used to mock her mother, “Simon, handle her.” But, Simon didn’t laugh along or join in. Instead, he clasped his hands together and bit his lip. “Oh, what? Don’t tell me that you’re about to start sticking up for my mom, too?”

“Noooo… But, the party is very important. Your dad worked really hard to fix the incidents surrounding your name…”

“Which were brought on by your explosion in the mall…” She reminded him. He bypassed the reminder.

“And now, we have to focus on the leader of the Apex being worshiped, and your reputation being restored. You said that your image is important to you. Your mom is literally bringing your image into the heavens. Have you SEEN the Black Madonna piece she had made from her delivery photo?”

“That wasn’t a delivery photo. I was days old when they did that photo shoot. A team made her look like a beautiful glowing new mother. There ARE no delivery photos, because she, and I quote, “Actually somehow looked ugly while ruining her body with my arrival and didn’t want anyone in the world, not even me to ever see her less than stunning.” She destroyed photos from the actual birth.”

“Okay… But, did you see the artwork?”

“I see that you seem to be trusting the adults. We don’t trust adults. We don’t listen to our parents.”

“You listen to your parents all the time!”

“I mean, yeah, when I have to, but like… YOU don’t have to!”

He sighed and sat down next to her. “You’re about to be an adult, Grace.”

“Hell no, I’m not. I’m about to be 16, and instead of doing some cool shit with my best friend, I’m gonna be hosting a knock off Met Gala with literally a ballroom FULL of strangers. I don’t know any of the people on the guest list, and I certainly don’t know people who were exploited by you and my mom just to see me get out of a shiny ass limo and walk.” She tossed her music book aside and touched his ponytail, “Wouldn’t you rather we went through the motions, then got out of the limo, gave the kids on the sidelines their little tickets’ worth, then I just kick off my shoes and we take off running to go camping in the woods and play Chubby Bunny?”

He scoffed and threw his head back. “So, whenever I try to defend your honor, we’re not kids anymore, but whenever I try to help fix your image that you blame me for messing up, then you want to be 12 again?”

“No, when you react violently to a simple mistake, that’s childish to me, but it's perfectly fine to say a big screw you to these societal pressures and have fun with my best friend, for my birthday!”

“How do you know this won’t be fun, Grace? Several people, including me, have worked hard to make this a memorable night for you… And you don’t even seem to care.” He got up and grabbed his backpack. She felt horrible. Maybe she was a childish brat, after all. 

“Simon…” 

“I have college exams coming up,” he said, softly. That was his version of a goodnight.

“Simon, I’m sorry. You’ve been working really hard to make up for the corn dog thing. It isn’t your fault that my parents are still punishing me. Not directly, anyway. I should have noticed that you were putting in all of this planning work for me, for us. I just… You don’t have to do it. I’m happiest the days that we just get to spend time together. I feel like we never get to anymore. Like the old days, when it was just you and me. I guess for me, getting older means losing everything that I consider precious and the closer my birthday gets, and the more adult you act, I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.” She hugged herself. “But, you have a point. This will help my image and I should be grateful that everyone is working so hard. Especially you.” She kissed him on the cheek and he turned an instant bright shade of red, overmatched only by the Apex Red print she left there. He took a deep breath and gave her an affirming nod. 

So, she sucked it up and decided to be here tonight and gave it her all.

There was dancing, mingling, her mother announcing things over a speaker system, from a hidden mic attached to her person, and a presentation of gifts - something that Grace just knew Simon was responsible for. It was like whenever kids gave tribute to her at school and he’d tell them, “All right, you know the drill, line up and present tribute as your dues to be able to call yourselves members of the Apex.” 

But, tonight, there were Apex members with Simon’s kiss… She recognized his lip prints, as she noted tonight… lined up, very military in their movements, holding gifts in one hand and their fists into the air with the other. Grace smiled, in confusion, glanced at Simon, who was seated on the other side of the tête-à-tête with her. He was looking at the display. Simon felt like the world was about to become his. Grace was frightened that hers was about to fall apart…

Because with every presentation, every declaration that each kid seemed to be making on Simon’s behalf, traveling their memories of friendship with gifts that were brought as symbols of sentimental moments that she and Simon shared… she realized that this wasn’t just some tribute from Simon for her birthday. This was a very bold declaration!

Every gift was beautiful and brought up some of her fondest memories of them, and when Simon knelt in front of her and presented her with the final and most important gift - a charm bracelet, with charms of each of those gifts in his presentation, with an inscription “The Apex is Forever,” and in front of ALL THESE PEOPLE, friends, family, strangers, fans, celebrities, hired help, and whatever phones and cameras were present, he said, “The only thing that makes sense is that we’re together. Will you accept this as a token from my heart and take me as your man?”

What did that even MEAN? Was this for her father’s benefit? Shouldn’t he have discussed something so extreme with her? And what was she supposed to do with all of these eyes on her? With his eyes on her? 

“Gray Eyes…” She was sweating and about to cry and breathing hard… “You’ve always been my man, Man...” she said. There were cheers from just about everyone, except her parents. Her mother threw her father a displeased look, but the man just looked right back at her with a note of satisfaction. Her mother got up from her throne and went down the winding staircase of the tower to leave. Her father stood and thanked everyone for coming out to Grace and Simon’s 16th birthday party. 

Grace went to go find her mother as Apex members got out of her way, random strangers congratulated her on her new relationship, and friends crowded Simon to celebrate that they pulled it off. Simon barely noticed her leave, but when she paused in the doorway and looked at him, they made eye contact. He looked slightly confused, but when she turned to continue her exit, he continued talking to Apex.

“Mom?” Grace called, knocking on the boudoir door as she entered. The woman had already gotten out of the dress, but the elaborate hive of a hairdo, graced with celestial embellishments would take longer. Grace was shocked that the dress didn’t take longer, but she realized when she picked it up to avoid trying to cross over it in her own, that Mrs. Monroe had ripped it off. “Are you okay?”

“He isn’t right for you,” Her mother said, staring at the reflection behind her in her vanity. “You and I both know it. You think that I don’t pay attention, but I do. He isn’t right for you, and you’ll regret this.”

“I thought that you wanted me with my best friend. It was Daddy who wanted me with someone in my class.” Now, he’s paying Simon to make me a kept woman and suddenly my best friend isn’t right for me? “Did you two switch roles?”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Your father is settling, because he thinks that a man can fix anything. Forget about the fact that women historically have been doing all of the heaviest lifting without any of the credit, whether it’s been in the workplace or in the home. The driver told us that there was something wrong with you, and we didn’t listen. We knew that we raised you to make good decisions, with morals and intelligence. The moment you introduced me to Simon, I saw that he was a bad decision. But, you talked to us, and we heard you out. This was your best friend and you wanted us to treat him like someone you cared about, and so we did. You never ask for much. It was one small task to take an unfortunate child into some of our charity. Now, look at you… some miserably defected boy’s golden goose.” She snatched up her makeup removing cloth and shook her head, “Your father is settling. You’re settling, and you’ll regret it.”

Grace grabbed a foot stool and set it next to her mother, “I didn’t know what to say. I had to say something and I couldn’t just shoot him down in front of all those people. The public would burn me at the stake for that, and Simon would be hurt, and Daddy would be displeased. I don’t even think you would have liked that.”

“Why do you think he CHOSE tonight to do this?” She asked. “You think that he just thought this was the right time to show you that he cared? He wanted an audience. He wanted to put you on the spot. He wanted to control the situation so that he could have some control over your answer! Don’t be fooled, Grace. Simon is a smart boy. He knows who you are and how you are. He knew what to say and do to get you to say yes and you fell for it.”

Grace was getting fed up with her mother’s accusations. She thought the woman had grown to like Simon, at least. She was speaking about him like he was still just some shaggy boy in a shabby suit to her. “He didn’t purposefully put me in an uncomfortable position, Mom. Simon may have a lot of problems, we ALL do… but he does love me and he would never do something to make me stressed out on purpose or try to dominate me!” 

The woman finally actually turned her face to Grace, and Grace would never forget the look of certainty in her eyes whenever she said, “Simon doesn’t even know what love is, and neither do you. What in this world would make you think that he is able to give you something that he has never been given before, himself?”

“Because, I know that I give him my love. He knows it too...” Grace said in a low voice, unsure of the truth in that, even as she said it. 

Her mother scoffed and turned back to the mirror, a bemused partial smile on her features. “Whatever it is that you two give each other… You’ll regret it, Grace. Mark my words. I haven’t changed my position at all. You should still make sure that you build a life with your best friend. My opinion is that Simon simply isn’t that. I don’t know if he ever was. You just regarded him as such because you had someone who you could control for once. But, he’s grown out of that, poppet. You didn’t even notice when he cut his strings and tied them onto you, did you? Of course not. Because, you love him. Because he’s your friend. Love makes you stupid. Friendship makes you weak. And you let him make you both.”

On principle alone, Grace was going to take her relationship with Simon as far as it could go. Just to prove that her mother was wrong. “Well, you didn’t seem to mind him whenever you needed my strings pulled.” 

Her mom was wiping off makeup. “I minded. I just knew that I have more control over him these days than I do over you. Simon may have surpassed your tactics, but the world will burn before he’s ever able to match my skills. You’ve just gone so wrong that you don’t know which way to go. Maybe you do need professional help.” She sighed, “It’s sad. You had such potential, and you’re going to end up just like me. The trophy of someone who wanted the best, only to hoard your greatness...”

She left the boudoir, angrily and found Simon and her father on the terrace, watching the guests be led out of the event. “Hey,” she said. They both turned around to see her.

“I should go find my wife,” her father said and clapped Simon on the shoulder. 

“She’s not happy,” Grace warned, under her breath. Her father hugged her and gave her a soft happy birthday. She wondered if Simon hadn’t told him that would be a nice present. That just made it feel… less than, but the entire night had been unpleasant to some degree. Or, if she now was deserving of his affection because she had found herself a good man to tame her. That just made her feel sick.

When they were alone, she stared at Simon, trying to forget the things her mother accused him of, but… something had felt off about him for a while. It wasn’t his damn eyebrows, or his hygiene, or anything like that. There was something different about him. Something that made her uncomfortable. Something that she felt like needed to be addressed, but never wanted to, because it might put them in a bad place. 

But, those were her friend’s eyes. Gray eyes, that always looked at her with fondness, from the very first time they landed on her. “Simon… What you did tonight…” He smiled. He was extremely impressed with how well he pulled it all off! She had no idea that he had worked so hard for the most spectacular gift to the Apex ever - official confirmation of Grace and Simon, their OTP, their royalty. “You shouldn’t have.” His smile faded. Her face was stern and she didn’t seem happy.

“The Internet will talk about this night forever.”

“The Internet wasn’t in that room tonight! The Internet wasn’t put on the spot, in front of all of those people. The Internet didn’t just have their mother scold them for being stupid and weak enough to have a friend and to love that friend. You put me in a really uncomfortable position, Simon. You had the chance to tell me about this whenever we talked about how important this party was to you, and you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t say anything because it was a surprise… A surprise that I take it ‘the impossible to please Grace Monroe’ was not pleased with.” 

“I get why you felt like you had to impress my dad, but…”

“Your dad?” He laughed, but his eyes looked anything but amused, “Your dad? You think I did that for some empty promise to your dad?”

“Why else would you do it?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” He shouted at her, almost right in her face. She was stunned. It was the most contradictory way of saying it that she had heard and she had heard her parents tell her this before with not the slightest hint of warmth or kindness. This… was actually terrifying. 

He must’ve realized that he frightened her, because he reeled himself in and placed prayer hands over his mouth as he waited for her next words. She couldn’t find any, so he broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to yell. You just… sound like you didn’t mean it when you said yes to me. You sound like you're backing out. You sound like you’re making excuses, when you could have just told me that you don’t want me.”

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. All of those things were true, but he was saying them like they were unreasonable, considering the atmosphere that she was faced with, not to mention this completely alarming reaction to even the possibility of those facts. “Simon… Do you remember the conversation we had about the girl you liked?”

“I remember the conversation we danced around about our feelings for each other,” he said. “I remember that you said that I’m amazing and that I deserve a chance. I remember you said, “I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.” I remember knowing that you were afraid to lose me, and now you won’t. I don’t know what’s been up with you. That conversation was the confirmation that I needed, to know that you know that we belong together!”

“I told you that I didn’t think that I could give you what you might expect out of a relationship...” Her heart was racing as she choked the words out, not wanting to upset him, but unable to stop herself from reminding him.

“Grace, I don’t care about your sexuality. That’s a part of you and I respect that. I just get sick and tired of us pretending that there’s not something between us.”

“I’ve never pretended that…”

“Then what’s the problem? You don’t really love me?”

“I do!”

“Good! We’re on the same page again!” He collected her into a hug and she started crying on his shoulder. 

Simon felt like… She gets it. She knows how I feel, I know how she feels, and everything is right in the world again. Grace had never felt more alone, misunderstood, or confused… but, at least she still had Simon. 

They could work through these feelings. She was obviously just projecting the doubts her mother had planted. This was Simon. Her Simon. Her friend… her man? That thought didn’t even sound right, but that’s what… what was happening? She stood and stared at his face. He was watching her suspiciously, like he was looking for a sign of her doubts from moments before. She had to do something that she had done before, but had never really thought about the fact that she had to do this with Simon… she plastered on a fake smile and cupped his face. 

He sighed and rested his lips against her forehead. “My Grace,” he whispered, holding her tight. She softened, willing herself not to feel tension with Simon. She wrapped her arms around him and rested against him. It didn’t feel quite right, but she knew these arms, this scent, the rhythm of this heartbeat, and that was what she guessed she needed, to deal with… whatever the rest of that stuff was.

.

“Since you brought it up, Grace… What do you think is the significance of that talk today?” 

Grace came out of her memories of she and Simon to look at the psychiatrist. Every time she pulled herself out of a memory of Simon and the Apex, she was faced with this woman, and she was brought back to reality - the real world, where Simon was no longer in her life and she was the most trapped she had ever been. 

The large glasses, large afro, the fullest lips and a wide gap between her teeth always reminded Grace of one of those cheap pieces of Black art in the beauty supply shop… but the doctor always was dressed in a business suit and had a blank facial expression. She didn’t smile or look sad or even seem to react to anything Grace said. 

That made it easier for Grace to confide in her about everything that went down between her and Simon before she landed herself in this place. That made her more open about the things he’d done to punish her, as well as all of the things she did that made her feel like maybe she deserved some of his punishment. Everyday she told herself that she didn’t, but when the person you’ve loved more than anything for nearly half of your life turns against you, turns everyone against you… “Maybe… Maybe I messed up. I should have just told him that I couldn’t see a future for us and that I would always be his friend and nothing else. I knew that he cared about me. I should have been more direct in telling him that couldn’t happen the way that he wanted.” The doctor blinked and nodded once. “And now, I’ve said something wrong to you.”

“It isn’t that you’ve said anything wrong, Grace. You spoke your true feelings, and that’s what you’re supposed to do here. It’s never wrong of you to admit your feelings. Now that you’ve stated them, I can help you sort through them again. Whenever you spoke with Simon that day - the day that you tried to bring back to his remembrance on the night of the party, did you tell him any lies?”

“No. I was completely honest with him about everything.”

“Why do you feel like you should have lied instead? How would you suppose it might have been a benefit to either of you, for you to lie to him?”

“Because, Simon couldn’t handle my truth. I was supposed to protect him. The people in his life always abandoned him. I was the one person who he thought he could depend on, and when I could have protected him and just told him that we were friends, and that was it, I told him that I loved him and had a fulfilling relationship with him.”

“Why do you think that a lie might have protected Simon?” 

Grace shrugged her shoulders, “I guess that doesn’t make sense. But, my relationship with Simon never did. When we were little, I could always tell when something was bothering him and I always tried to smooth him over. I always made it right. Then… we got older and I noticed less and less. I realized that a lot of the stuff that I said and did to keep Simon docile were probably the same kinds of things that made him so aggressive?” Grace needed the doctor to tell her whether this sounded right or not. She hardly knew anymore. What she did know was that when she was 16, she lost her best friend, and it took her two more years to even fully see that.

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