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stxleslyds · 3 years

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MY TOUGHTS ON PART THREE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

A DC RENDITION OF THE SONG “MOTHER KNOWS BEST” FROM TANGLED.

Here I will leave the links to my reviews of Part 1 and Part 2

Well, here we are, three issues in this story of only six parts and i still cant tell if i like it or not. What i know for sure tho is that Zdarsky never read any Red Hood books, i had my suspicions but now i am at least 95% sure.

This Jason has been nerfed. We had a perfectly balanced Jason back in 2005 he was smart, skilled, confident and strategic. Then from 2011 to 2020 (let’s put the fact that Lobdell is trash aside for a moment) Jason was skilled, he had the whole “chosen one” thing going on with the all-castle, and in some moments you could even see him being quick witted and confident. But now in this first half of this story he is extremely insecure, his skill set and expertise is barely there and is presented as just reckless.

The other day i was talking about how DC treats Jason, how they just can’t decide on who he is, what motivates him or what he wants. His personality is a whole ass mess, it was fine in 2005 and 2010 when Winick wrote him but then Lobdell from years 2011 to 2020 just couldn't decide what he wanted to do with Jason or his relationship with Batman and his rules. After Lobdell finally left Jason was passed around people who either only read Lobdell's work, or didn't read anything from him or didn't take into account Jason's life because their book was set in a future that may never happen.

What i am trying to say is that Jason doesn't have a personality, and writers don't really add things to the Jason that we “know”, what they do is start his story from zero over and over again. There is no consistency to Jason's character and while you could argue that maybe this new start could be the definite version of Jason Todd/Red Hood i will point out that this nerfed version of him is a major disservice to the character that he was when he was brought back to DC.

It’s simply not nice.

And in this particular issue the “Jason isn't that good at this whole vigilante gig” is even more pushed because of the whole “batman knows best” bullshit. I am not getting this (anthologies) book with a Red Hood story just for Batman to come in and be like “I am actually good at this job, you know nothing AND i have the moral high-ground”, this is NOT it.

If you are reading a Red Hood story chances are that you will be interested in Red Hood not Batman.

Oh one more thing, Jason was an excellent Robin. He was kind, smart and skilled. I liked the flashbacks in UtRH because it showed Jason being all that but he also understood a couple of things about the kind of criminals that Gotham had, your common thug is easily scared of the concept of Batman but the dress-ups knew that no matter what they did the Bat would never kill them, that’s what Jason thought about criminals there.

This Robin Jason is treated rather poorly by Zdarsky at times, he feels insecure and inferior to Dick but he is also dismissive of him and the Robin mantle in the first issue, now in this one he is shown as way too reckless (which is kinda bad because it feeds into DCs favorite trope of “Jason’s death was Jason’s fault”) and his stance on “low level” criminals is weird, like it was made clear that drug related criminals are Jason’s biggest issue, thieves were not.

Those are my general thoughts on this issue and the current state of Jason’s characterization. I have some panels from this issue that i want to talk about in more depth tho, so here we go.

The issue stars were we left off once more, Tyler defends Jason and when Batman asks who he is Tyler says that he is the Blue Hood, that was really sweet of him, that child is adorable and he needs to be protected.

Once the Bat distracts Tyler Jason tells the Bat that the man he killed was Tyler’s dad.

There are a couple of things i want to point out from these panels, Jason feels incredibly guilty, not about killing Andy but about leaving Tyler in a situation that is similar to the one he was left in when his own mother died. He still believes that Andy was not a good man and deserved to be dead, after all he was drugging his own son and was the reason Tyler’s mom overdosed and is now in the hospital. It just hits incredibly close to home for Jason and i understand completely.

The other thing i want to point out is that Jason says “I know your rules. No killing in Gotham” so, this is (to me) confirmation that Jason hasn’t killed in a long time and that he has been sticking to the Bat's rules (at least in Gotham). Andy (a drug-dealer) is the only person that Jason has killed since the events of UtRH (that are apparently canon in this story because it was mentioned in the first issue).

Following this conversation the Bat says that he will take care of Tyler’s mother (yikes, i really thought in my last post that Jason was the one who would have tried to get her the help she needed, to me it seems more appropriate if Jason does it given that this is his story but what do I know)

This is where this Red Hood story transforms into the Batman show.

Not only will Bruce take care of Tyler's mom but he will clean up the mess and shut down the making of the drug all by himself. Jason tells him that he will do it but the Bat tells Jason that if he wants to do it they will have to do it together because there is no way he is letting Jason out of his sight, he made a mess!

Yes, nothing like making the lead character look incompetent at his job. Love that for Jason.

Before the team up starts Batman and Red Hood go to Leslie's place to leave Tyler with her. This is a good moment only because there is a dog involved, well…Tyler, Jason and a dog are involved, best panel in the whole issue? I think yes.

Maybe I have a couple more panels that are my favs in this issue, here they are, a lil bit of positivity in this extra bitter post.

Now I will be honest, I hate Batman (Bruce’s Batman, love Dick Bats he was the MVP) so him saying that he is helping a Robin makes me want to shoot him. You are not helping; you are overtaking, as you do. Never a team player, the Batgod must always be the center of the show.

Back in the new cave Bruce talks to Jason about the drug and who he thinks might be behind it's production. He also makes sure to let Jason know that he is very smart and might be the only person outside of Crane's circle that knows how analyze a very unstable compound…weird flex but okay. He also teases Jason about his detective skills. Yay.

Flashback time! Get ready!

Robin Jason and Batman are at a crime scene and Jason doesn’t seem to be in the mood to play CSI: Gotham with Bruce.

At one moment Jason says “and then we will stomp the guy who did this” (“this” being murder), which makes Jim Gordon (who came to see if batman was done playing Sherlock Holmes) uncomfortable, so Batman tells Jason to wait for him. As Jason is going he sees someone acting suspicious.

Back to present day Batman and Red Hood are visiting the woman that created the compound that makes Fear Gas, the interrogation starts well but because this is the Batman show and Jason is bad at reading people and asking questions we have a scene that shows Jason being a bit too much.

I honestly thought that the first question was fair, but then after they leave the office they were in Batman basically goes on a rant about the things that Jason missed.

Ok, I get it Batman = good vigilante. Red Hood = Incompetent.

Zdarsky is honestly trying to make us believe that Jason hasn’t picked up any of those things, in his years as Robin with Batman AND Nightwing? They both taught him, there is no way Jason doesn’t know the basics of how to read people. Also do you guys remember Jason in UtRH and Lost Days? That guy read people perfectly, how is UtRH canon in this story, did Jason lose his skills in the explosion when he blew up the Joker?

As if that wasn’t enough Batman calls Red Hood reckless after they don’t agree on what to do next.

To this I say the following: Never again make me believe that Jason will willingly work with Batman. They don’t work together and neither are willing to meet each other halfway, even less let the other lead. This makes the idea of Jason following the Bat’s rules and him being part of the “Batfamily” the joke that it actually is.

They don’t work well together anymore; bring duality back to Gotham 2021.

Back in the past where the previous flashback is resumed we have Jim telling Batman that the new Robin seems a bit too rough around the edges. Did Jim ever meet Dick as Robin? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dick was a sweetheart but he also beat criminals alongside batman every night. It just doesn’t feel like what Jason said was that much of a violent statement or anything, maybe I just don’t get it.

But don’t worry if you don’t get it, because we are shown Robin Jason going after that suspicious man, he is beating him asking if he knows anything about the murder or what exactly he was doing so close to the crime scene when Batman arrives. Through Batman we are told that that man was no longer a criminal, to which Jason says this, “…The guy is a jewel thief! He will always be a thief” and Batman responds “I refuse to believe that. Didn’t I meet you in the middle of stealing the Batmobile’s tires?”

I can’t believe Bruce went full “It’s over Jason. I have the moral high ground” on Robin Jason.

I mean Jason is OOC, we know this, but he has to be that way in order to make Batman look better when compared to a child. DC hates Jason Todd #Confirmed.

It kinda reminds me of that thing DC does with Dick and Barbara, Dick is skilled and smart as long as Barbara isn’t in the room, if she is then Dick will forget to check if there is someone inside his apartment and then be thrown across the room by her and then be told that he sucks at putting security in his living space.

Moving on...back to the present one last time Jason is interrogating a man while he dangles him from the edge of a building (did Dick teach him that? I bet he did.) After getting some information he calls Oracle so he can make sure that the place he is going to is safe. Oracle tells him the she will help him but she did not like the fact that the last time she helped him someone ended up dead.

Now, fair warning, Barbara and Jason big NO for me and after Geoff Johns and his antics in Three Jokers I have zero love for their “team-ups”.

Jason says this,

Believing in him? Excuse me? Chonky, baby, she only helped you find a building.

All I can do at this point is pray to whichever god or whoever hears that this does not lead to Jason pinning for Barbara. We don’t need it (Barbara doesnt need it), I might be overreacting, I hope I am, but nobody wants that kind of drama right now, thanks.

When he arrives to the place he was looking for I think everyone can tell that it’s a trap, everyone but Jason apparently.

How on earth does Jason not realize it’s a trap up until it’s too late? Are you joking? Is this a Red Hood story? Are we really doing this? Just how incompetent is Jason in Zdarsky’s eyes?

Freeze…is it Freeze? I don’t care but he is there, he freezes Jason and that’s the end of the issue.

Listen, I wish I could say that this is the worst Jason has been treated and that this book is horrible, I wish but I can’t. I can’t do it because this isn’t the worst characterization or book of Jason, this is still a pretty good story, could it be better? Yes.

I mean this story is written by someone who obviously doesn’t know Jason and that sucks but it still isnt the worst characterization and it messes me up. Three Jokers was worse than this, certain plot decisions in Future State: Red Hood were worse than this (in my opinion) and Lobdell’s New52 RHatO was pure trash (that is the worst book, just horrible please dont read it).

I am saying this only to make it clear that even tho this issue was painful (mostly if you don’t like Batman) I still have hope that it can turn out to be good. I cant help it, i want and need this story to be good and there is still time for it to get better.

Alright thats all i have to say, let me know what you thought about this issue and my review, bye!

#jason todd #red hood #batman urban legends #urban legends red hood #dc comics #red hood outlaw #robin jason todd

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occasionaloneshots · 3 years

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You Belong With Me (Reddie’s Version)

Warnings: toxic relationship, swearing

Closeted bi Richie x closeted gay Eddie

Words: 1.7k

“You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset.. She’s going off about something that you said, ‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do.”

Eddie was bitter. Quite frankly the boy wondered if bitter was even a strong enough word. But he stuck with it, down right lemon sour, bitter. Richie was supposed to sleep over, just the two of them, like old times. But of course his girlfriend had to go and throw herself in their plans, it seemed like she always did. Eddie swore that the girl had it out for him, hell she had called his house to talk to Richie. So now, while Eddie sits across from a paused movie that he was never really interested in to begin with, he gets to listen to Richie trying to explain himself over nothing. At least Eddie thought it was nothing, nothing for Richie at least.

“No, baby, come on please don’t be like that,” Richie’s vice floats in desperately from kitchen. Eddie didn’t have to be in the room to see the exhaustion on the boy’s face. “It was just a joke, you know I love you more than anything.” If Eddie was right, Richie was scrunching the phone cord in his hand, he always seemed to do that if he was getting yelled at over the phone. Maybe that was an exclusive thing for phone calls from his father though, as he got chewed out for being late to leave or forgetting to call and say he would be staying for dinner. “I’m sorry okay? I’m so sorry I’ll never joke about that again, I swear.” Eddie scoffed, it’s not like she was involved in the joke, it was a joke about the losers. As far as he was concerned, Richie’s bitchy girlfriend would never be a loser, no matter how many times she invited herself along. If she doesn’t want to hear Richie’s crude jokes about Eddie’s mom, she shouldn’t invite herself to hang out with him and Eddie. Everyone knows that’s his thing. Why even get with a trashmouth if you just want to change him? Sure the joke wasn’t funny, but that was Richie. (If Eddie was honest, he slowly began to find Richie’s mom jokes funny, but maybe that was a cheap stab at his mother.)

The dark haired boy wonders back into the room, falling back on the couch beside Eddie, “I’m sorry about that. Do you wanna finish the movie?” Eddie looks back at it for a moment, a random frame of Wayne’s World (Richie’s choice) staring back at him. “Not if you don’t want to, we could just go do something else,” Eddie plays with his fingers as he talks, looking up at the taller boy nervously. He wasn’t sure what made him so nervous about it though, maybe it was just knowing that Richie was upset. “Yeah, let’s just go to your room or something?” Eddie nods, turning off the tv as they stand up. Richie collects the blankets they were using off the couch, throwing them over his shoulder as Eddie grabs the popcorn bowl. It’s pretty quiet as they make it to Eddie’s room, both throwing themselves on his bed seemingly exhausted despite the fact that it was only nine-thirty. Suddenly Eddie jumps up, walking over to his bookshelf. “What ya doin’, Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie’s head lolls to the side, watching as the smaller boy scans the shelves. A red CD case resting in his hand as he opens the CD player on the shelf. “Don’t call me that, Rich. You’ll see.”

“I'm in my room, it's a typical Tuesday night, I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like”

Meer seconds after Eddie closed the player, a familiar song began to boom out of the speakers. The opening cord of Ramones “Censorshit” making Richie’s face light up, “Is that my copy of Mondo Bizarro?” “It’s mine now, you gave it over, remember?” The dark haired boy rolls his eyes, getting up off the bed. “I didn’t give it to you, I let you hold on to it. Heidi hates this type music, she kept complaining about it so I wanted someone who would take care of it to watch it.” Eddie shrugs, “Gave it to me, told me to take care of it, same difference.” Richie didn’t respond though, instead, putting his arms out in front of him, pointer finger up on each hand like he was trying to silence a room, before breaking out into a dance. His curls flying around his head in a way that made his face hard to see as he moved. It was not a good dance, but one that had Eddie smiling and jumping around with him nonetheless. They were on the twelfth before they were exhausted enough that they had to sit back down. Both boys sitting with their legs crossed on opposite sides of the old bed, laughing.

“God,” Richie pants, “I forgot how good that album was.” “Yeah, because all you’ve been listening to is Madonna,” the words ended with a scoff as Eddie shook his head, “You hated Madonna until you got with Heidi.” Richie stops mouthing the lyrics of “Heidi Is a Headcase” to scoff, “I still hate Madonna.” Eddie shakes his head, “Why are you even with her anyway?” He was mentally cursing himself the moment e said it. Eddie you fool, you absolute fool.

“'Cause she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she's Cheer Captain and I'm on the bleachers”

Richie simply shrugs in response, “I don’t know.” This leaves the other boy stunned for a minute. “You don’t know?” Richie had options, so many options, there was no reason for him to be with someone who makes him miserable, at least not one his friend could see. Richie got hot in high school, everyone knew that as much as they hated to admit it (especially Bill, who was a little too used to being the hot one of the group). He basically sprung up a whole foot the summer between eight and ninth grade, his face thinning out to reveal a sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. He had that whole pretty boy thing going on which earned him more than a fair share of female attention, and even his fair share of attention from other guys, though they weren’t as open about it.

“I don’t know, I mean, she’s the cheer captain and I guess that part of me just wants what comes with that? But I want her too you know, even though it stresses me out. What would happen to me if I left her you know? We’re not really true losers anymore, I don’t want to drag the rest of you back down with me.” That was another thing, Richie started going to games just for the half time show to watch her cheer, dragging Eddie with him, and any other loser if he got the chance. Eddie sighs, shaking his head, “You wouldn’t become a total loser again, Rich. You’d just have every girl in the school throwing herself at you.”

“And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down”

Richie laughs, a dry laugh that was no where near his normal one, “Yeah right, maybe I’ll go for Greta Keene next time. Fuck myself up in a different way.” Eddie scrunches up his nose, “Yuck, why would you say that? Greta?” “What?” Richie smirks, leaning over to shove his shoulder, “Is she your girl or something?” Eddie lets out a whiney groan, “That was the seventh grade will you please let it go?” In a game of truth or dare Eddie admitted to lied about having a crush on Greta and Richie hadn’t let it go since. Eddie never talked about things like that, it wasn’t his thing. So of course the scrap Richie had, he would use. The taller boy burst out laughing, a genuine smile flashing across his face in a way that made Eddie smile too. “Dude you’re the one who did it.”

When the boy finally calmed down, Eddie gave him a soft smile, ”Seriously though, why don’t you break up with her, Richie? Cheer captain is not a valid reason to stay with someone.” “The rumors she would spread are a valid reason to stay. I don’t know if I would be able to handle that.” Eddie scoffs, leaning back against his headboard, “Who cares about rumors? Bev survived them, you could too.” Richie shakes his head, “I believed the rumors about Bev back then, the whole school did.” “That’s because you’re a fool, Rich. Seriously, you think anyone would care about the rumors she’d spread? What’s she gonna say? You have a small dick? Stan says that all the time,” Eddie shakes his head, “She’s not good for you Richie.” I could be though, the thought clouds his mind, though he’d never admit it out loud, Eddie was crushing on Richie so hard it was embarrassing. Some of the losers saw it though, just like how they saw his crush on Bill back when they were younger. At least, Bev and Stan did, though they’d never admit it, outside of the two of them, but Eddie was paranoid that Mike knew it too. If Mike asked him why he looked so upset while Heidi was on RIchie’s lap one more time, the boy thinks he might combust. “Come on Eds, even if I wasn’t scared about rumors, who else would be willing to deal with me anyway? I’m lucky she even puts up with me.” And that made Eddie frown, “Rich,” he reached out, grabbing Richie’s hand, “The right person loves you, they don’t just put up with you because you’re hot.” Richie lets out another dry laugh, “Yeah, like someone out there is like that for me. Girls like that exist for Mikes and Stans, not me Eds.” Eddie shakes his head, watching as Richie pulls away, getting up to look in the mirror. “ think there’s someone out there like that for everyone. I mean, my dad loved my mom, at least as much as I remembered, and she’s my mom.” Richie shakes his head, “I guess you’ve got me there. Hey, maybe mine is also your mom.” And despite the fact that it was cheap, Eddie laughed at it. Mind barely holding in the words “what if it’s me?” Because, Eddie knew he wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet, and Richie was no where near the right place for that.

‘All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me, you belong with me”

#Reddie #richie tozier #richie trashmouth #eddie kaspbrak #eddie it #it 2017 #it fanfiction #taylor swift lyrics

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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S5 Ep 3: Apdnarg is Really Hard to Spell

Yo guys, people are getting vaccinated, the sun is parting through the clouds, and I felt so nice that I even stopped listening to quite so many throwback 00′s BTS mashups (and yet I keep clicking on these dissonant catastrophes thinking “this time it’s got to be better. This time they’ll figure it out.” and like, no. Turns out you can’t match Brittany’s Toxic with BTS’ Black Swan. You can’t do that.)

This must be a sign that things are getting better. If anything, it means my personal tastes are improving. I mean I only clicked on like 3 “Dark Academia” Playlists where I could pretend I’m some sort of spooky witch in an abandoned library with a bad music player and basic taste in classical music (like can we ban Satie from Youtube for a little while?). Hell, I might even do a prompt update to this blog!

Yeah, you heard me, I’m actually going to stay ahead of the update schedule for Yugioh Abridged (maybe. I haven’t actually watched cuz of spoilers, I just noticed the thumbnail pop up on Youtube and was like “Damn it, they came out of hiatus??? I got hurry UP.”)

Anyway, speaking of the sky parting.

I’ll have you know my bro said this is actually more like a circumcision and it was one of the worst thing I have ever heard.

We get a chance to take in this lineup of confusing and varied character designs, and Joey. who is...still Joey.

The animators probably had to hold a strike in order for them to put Yugi in the audience, lets be real. There are TOO MANY PEOPLE in this shot and one is wearing a turban where you draw every single wrap. I hope those artists charged by the line.

Tea has a subplot where she’s just very frustrated with everyone she knows. They have been traveling together for like many weeks and got trapped in a foreign country so I get it. But at the same time, it’s kind of hard to picture Tea with female friends.

Because right now you got this 12 year old child, the other duelist who does not care about anything besides cards, and Kaiba’s 3 dragon cards that we’ve all collectively decided are female.

Hell it’s almost like the writers are asking themselves why Tea is here. Maybe they forgot. There’s no more ghosts to bus, no more people to knock out with her ass with random Olympic feats. Tea’s just sidelining.

(read more under the cut)

Mokuba is a itty bit bit taller this season, and so I guess that means he can legally climb on top of the cherry picker in order to give a riveting speech.

Really says a lot about Mokuba that he is so unphased about talking to, I dunno...an entire planet of people. Kind of a shame we never see this courage from Mokuba used for anything other than talking really, really big and giving everyone around him a really hard time.

Mokuba takes a moment to dunk on Yugi Muto, as is Kaiba tradition.

And then introduce the first pair of duelists, which obviously must be between the few people in this tournament that we actually know and care about.

Thankfully, in between last episode and this episode, Yugi has figured out who his own Grandpa is. This is a relief, because Yugi is such a mess, that I was fully convinced it would take over half a season for him to recognize it. I mean how long did it take him to figure out he shares a body with a ghost? Like half a season?

Instead Yugi recovered gracefully from not recognizing his grandpa, but it’s not like he bothered to tell anyone else, so the rest of our cast is just gonna be like “Is he my hairdresser? The guy who delivers my mail? Who is this guy who made absolutely no significant changes to his outfit or voice?”

Like sometimes this show goes full Spongebob silly kid’s show and you never know when to take it seriously or not. They might be sacrificing the entire cast next episode. I really don’t know. But for now their big concern is who is grandpa??? Like an innocent card version of “Are you my Mother?”

Faced with public speaking, Yugi decides to have a melt down.

We have seen him face monsters, we’ve seen him on TV dozens of times, he’s been in multiple competitions...but give a speech? Of course he can’t do that. The kid doesn’t attend enough school to know how to do that. Them’s learning skills.

And that was when a newly assembled wife-jet spliced through the sky like a souped up razer scooter and deposited 1 fully equipped Seto Kaiba in a Buzz Lightyear jetsuit.

THE RECOVERY.

Seto always watching over his Brother, ready to save this awkward party if it kills him (and it really should, that suit is held together by two seat-belts), making sure to get on that platform before Yugi starts going off about how he’s half an Ancient Egyptian. (Ah, life before social media. You could just be hella famous and also half a dead dude and people would just not know. I kinda miss the time before I knew literally everything about everyone.)

Please admire how close those flames are to setting Mokuba’s heavily hairsprayed mane completely alight. It would be an unforgettable spectacle.

These were absolutely just random ass jet packs that Gozaburo Kaiba made to kill hell tons of people, right? Like Seto found it in the family cabin, clutched to the heart of some crispy fried corpse and was like “neat! Mokuba! I found a cool toy!” and just plucked that thing out of that skeleton’s clutches and has been flying around for months?

Like this is Seto Kaiba’s Butter Glider, right?

Seriously what type of vehicle license do you need for one of these things? RIP My ‘Seto only has a scooter license’ headcanon.

Which I’m only even thinking about because I’ve had to try and make an appt with the DMV for days to get a freakin REAL ID. I went to sleep in 2019 and I could fly on a plane. I woke up in 2021 and it’s like “Want one last screw you?” and just...can 2020 please stop screwing me over? It’s March.

Anyway, the Jet is removed soon after, so no, this is not part of his new outfit. He goes right back to his Post-S4-Trauma-Normcore.

After wrestling this competition out of his brother’s hands and confusing everyone in the audience, Roland must have gotten the memo to cut the microphone before Seto got too excited and we were quickly ushered on to the next stage of the tournament.

One sec...the BTS Mashup playlist I just clicked on did a Black Swan X 7 rings mashup and it’s the worst thing my ears have ever heard.

Holy crap. I had to actually turn down my volume. Like...Ariana Grande already has music that has way too many overlapping singing parts on it--and then lets just stick a 52-person boy band on top? That’ll fix it. Yeah. Go ahead.

Wow. Even I had to change the song and you know how much I enjoy pop culture mistakes.

Spot the Mickey but like a million times easier because it’s a Massive Dick Shaped Dragon.

Yep. That’s my grocery shopping outfit. Except maybe not a lab coat and a duel disk. Wish I had a duel disk, that would make social distancing just a hell ton earlier. Just a “Yo, only one person in checkout, please” and then bap them on the head with a propelled discuss/hologram.

Anyway, Grocery shopping/Doctor man dueled the Purple Hair Boy, and considering that Purple Hair got screen time and shook Yugi’s hand once--I think that Doctor man doesn’t stand a freakin chance.

Good. I hate him.

Also, every time he breathes he’s gonna fog up his glasses. I have experience in this area. He can’t read his own cards in the same way I can’t read my phone if I’m in the refrigerated aisle.

So the way this tournament works, is everyone has to sit in the stadium to watch the show. Kinda like showing up to a football stadium just to watch a recorded TV monitor...but then again...that is how it feels to watch a football game at a football stadium when it’s live (at least with the tickets I usually get.)

And as we watch Grandpa waiting for his competitor, we find out that his competitor (Joey) is too busy eating snacks to give him the time of day.

Why do cartoon hot dogs always have lettuce? Is that seriously supposed to be relish? Or is there a place in the world where you put lettuce on your hot dog?

Sorry, bro has just informed of his favorite hot dog order, which is absolutely terrible so I will share it with you: a Five Guys hot dog with ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, onions, mushrooms, pickled peppers, and you guessed it--topped with freakin lettuce.

My own kin. How am I over 30 and just finding out that my baby brother thinks it’s normal to walk into a restaurant with normal god-fearing law-abiding people and order lettuce and mushrooms on a hot dog?

I have fully failed him.

The rest of this episode is watching both Joey Wheeler and Mokuba have a shared panic attack while Seto does freakin nothing.

Please remember that Seto has both a jetpack and a dragon wife plane and could have easily solved this problem. But nah.

Then again, Seto Kaiba has given this crew so MANY rides, that maybe he’s tired of being the Soccer Mom for the team?

Like they don’t actually say this episode, but Seto was the one in charge of like...this entire place, do you think he made the 2 for 1 special just to get Joey where it hurts the most? Or does it actually not take any subterfuge to screw Joey Wheeler because he’s just naturally this way?

Like Mokuba wasn’t there when Joey was told “stay right here, and then we will all go together to fight Dartz” and Joey was like “I’mma save Mai from herself although she told me not to!” and then he Hella Died. But, Mokuba did see the result, AKA, Joey’s dead body being carried on the back of Tristan. Maybe Mokuba never realized that Joey died because he went out of his way to be late?

Lets do a tally of every time I can recall with my dodgy memory that Joey was threatened to be DQ’d/pretty much was DQ’d either by his own fault or no fault of his own

-When he wasn’t allowed to go on the boat to Murder Island because he was a stupid nobody kid who did not have a dueling glove

-When he wasn’t actually supposed to be in Pegasus’ tourney and was, in fact, secretly using half of Yugi’s entrance ticket the entire time

-when Bandit Keith stole the ticket that Joey got from Yugi so then Joey had to borrow Mai’s ticket although she had just used it so it really shouldn't have counted. Because, really anyone could have just piggy backed off of each other’s ticket until the whole boat went through that castle.

-When his account was hacked to get entered into Kaiba’s tourney when Kaiba very clearly told him he could not apply solely because he was Joey Wheeler.

-When he was late to his sister’s eye surgery because he got mugged by Marik’s Rare Hunters, so she almost refused to do the surgery.

-When Joey got possessed by Marik, and as Marik, threatened to murder everyone else in the tournament including both of the Kaiba brother’s who’s tournament it was, and then chained himself to Yugi Muto to throw both of them to the bottom of the ocean.

-I think there was a point when he threatened to attack Kaiba in Kaiba’s own tourney while not possessed? Like several times?

-when he got struck by Lightning and almost did not stand up fast enough after being struck by lightning, which is apparently a type of DQ in Duel Monsters.

-When he tried to save Mai from getting hit by a fireball, but then Yugi did it instead, and then so many people were standing on the dueling platform that Kaiba couldn’t possibly DQ them all.

-When he entered the restricted area of the blimp in order to hassle Kaiba into landing the Blimp, which Kaiba did not do.

-When Marik killed Joey before Joey could press the “go” button on his duel disk to play the card that should have won Joey the match.

-When he was dueling a lawyer in a digital universe but then the dice was like...weighted? So Noah had to walk over and be like “The hell is this weighted dice? This is my perfect digital world? How did you even do that?” and then Joey won because the match was no longer legit.

-When Joey yelled at Noah too much and so Noah turned Joey to stone for being a rude ass spectator

-When Mai was like “Wheeler and Valon, listen closely: do NOT murder each other” and then Joey did a murder on Valon so she was like “I guess I have no choice, I was very clear” and killed Joey straight up.

-When Joey decided to block Seto’s fireballs while Joey Wheeler WAS a playing card, somehow disrespecting both Dartz and Seto Kaiba at the same time.

-When Joey was playing cards but then got absorbed into a giant Leviathan and basically couldn’t play anymore after that.

-There’s probably hell ton of S0 stuff I just haven’t seen yet.

-This episode

And Joey runs fast for a montage of wacky things that really have no business being in a theme park. Things like this:

(remember when Bakura almost died from a rock that ended up being a balloon? It comes full circle.)

The stuff that the Kaiba brother’s think is normal and fun.

Anyway Joey fights off a bunch of hologram snakes and bats and everyone is like “Should we tell him it’s just holograms???” And it’s like wow, guys, how many times have these ‘holograms’ straight up murdered Joey Wheeler and everyone else on this cast? Too many? Because I have a google doc with so many deaths on it. 7,805,844,048, to be exact.

Anyway, he gets there with five seconds to spare and Mokuba’s like “well at least you were still entertaining while we filmed you in front of a live audience being a total spaz for 15 minutes straight, so I’ll let you go.”

Grandpa and Joey start playing, Joey completely oblivious that this is just an older Muto, while Hawkins walks up awkwardly and is like “hey guys. I’m so sorry about this.”

(welcome to my font choices, for those new here, I have to make weird font color choices to make sure it’s legible for the colorblind and also for the non-colorblind. This one is not much contrast, so I may change it up in the future, but for now, this is Grandpa Muto’s new font. I apologize to every graphic designer reading this. Please don’t tell anyone who has ever hired me for graphic design about this blog.)

What’s funny about this exchange is that after they find out that Yugi’s Grandpa is Apdnarg (HOLY my brain cannot get around the spelling for that, and I will not change it in the caps. I cannot do a ‘pdn’ ever again), they don’t stand on his side of the field or anything. Hawkins is legit Solomon Muto’s only fan during this exchange and like...damn. Way not to back your Grandpa, Yugi.

Yugi immediately strides up to Mokuba to non-confrontation-ally inform him that he has stepped over a line and Mokuba is like “what are these things you say called ‘lines?’”

According to Mokuba, Solomon Muto begged him to be in the competition so he could relive his glory days (glory days making no sense here, because the game has only been released for the past 15 years, so glory days is like...the before times that can only be referring to disgraced archeologists and Pegasus ((who is, in his own way...a disgraced archeologist, too))) and Mokuba was like

“You trained Yugi Muto, right? Hey that’s good enough for me. This drama is gold. People will eat it up. Hell yes. Don’t be afraid to abduct him a little bit. Maybe trap a couple people in a digital hellscape for a little while? Now we go by Pegasus house rules here, so fire as many lasers as you want, but just make sure not to hit anyone in the face. Oh man, we are going to be swimming in cash. Love it, Muto Sr, love it.”

But I dunno, I feel like Grandpa won’t make it past next episode. It is Joey. We kinda need him to make it past Ep 4 of the arc. If Grandpa Muto becomes the new Joey Wheeler, that will be a weird transition for this show to make.

But that’s all for today, as always, here is the link to read these in chrono order becuase there’s SO MANY that you don’t need to read backwards--don’t do it--just use the chrono tag (and I don’t know if you can add compound tags, but I did separate the Season from the Episode, so if you write S4, it should only pop up stuff from S4. I didn't’ do that to seasons 1-3 though because I just...didn’t.)

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

And because I brought it up: here it is, the best BTS Mashup that I found on my deep dive. Like legit--this one isn’t a mess:

youtube

Most of other ones are horrible in a fascinating way. Like I’m not even a BTS fan, I think I sort of age out of that metric, I’m just bored and quarantined. And lets be real, we all appreciate a good bop when we hear it.

#yugioh #ygo #yu gi oh #photo recap #recap #episode recap #yugi muto #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #Joey Wheeler #Apdnarg #Grandpa muto #tea gardner #tristan taylor #professor hawkins #and then I ranted about BTS #but please don't quiz me about BTS I know nothing about them aside from the music #I actually thought there were over 12 of them because every time I see them perform it feels like an entire stageplay production of people #like a 101 dalmations situation where every time I saw BTS there were 3 new people #I assumed it was like the Gorrilaz where people just show up and then disappear in a rotation #but no. There's 7 BTS members #that can't be right #there has to be more than 7 #is this a berenstein bears situation?#how is there only 7?#I swear there used to be like 16 #and they would be introduced like here's jimin and Jungkook and red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and pea #like is google seriously telling me there's only 7 kids in this band?#this is the biggest scam google has ever played on me #this weird alternate timeline that not only has an epidemic but also only 7 members of BTS

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tangledstarlight · 4 years

Text

i’ll say it with petals (you’ll ink it in my skin)

julie works at her families flower shop and luke works in the tattoo parlour next door. one time he plays his music a little too loud, one time julie decides to have a word.

it just a lil flower shop / tattoo artist au

i honestly had so much fun writing this one and it really truly did get away from me. i didn’t mean for it to be 11k words long, my bad. it also lowkey covers the ‘how do you passive aggressively say fuck you in flowers’ prompt, so the flower meanings are at the end.

but anyway please enjoy!!!

also on ao3 (in source!)

trigger warnings! death mentions (julies mom), mild swearing, underage drinking (literally a single beer) needles.

When she was little Julie remembers always being excited to get to go to work with her mom at the flower shop. Because she liked to spend time with her mom, but also because Julie really loved all the flowers.

Walking into the shop when she was little always felt a little like walking into a magical world. Somewhere full of bright colours and loud scents and soft instrumental music always playing in the background. It felt a lot like home too.

With her mom singing and her tia laughing and Julie trying to join in with both. She remembers, when she was little, always pulling one of the tall chairs up to the counter, greeting customers with a gap toothed smile and asking in her best voice ‘what can I help you with today?’ but she’d a little bit of a lisp and the chair would wobble and the customer would smile politely but ring the bell for her mom or tia to come bustling out.

Walking into the shop still feels a little bit magical even now she’s nineteen and no longer full of childhood wonder, but it’s also tinged with a melancholy feeling that has her sitting at the front counter on one of the tall chairs and humming quietly to herself.

When Julie thinks back on her childhood now, it’s full of music and laughter and flowers. When she closes her eyes, when the shop is quiet and she’s alone in the backroom, she can almost hear her mom singing about flower names to her and hear tia talking away to a customer and her dad dropping by to kiss her hair and leave lunch. It used to hurt, and sometimes it still does, but mostly it just makes her smile.

Until the sound of heavy drums and a loud guitar breaks her peaceful afternoon.

Julie accidentally snaps the stem of the lily in her hand as she glares at the wall that connects their shop to the tattoo parlour next door. For the last two weekends this has been happening on and off. The music would start blaring at random points in the day and abruptly stop. Only to start again a little later on.

Now see, despite what people at her school might have said in senior year, Julie still loved music. She liked to play it just as loud as the next person, and she didn’t even mind whatever band it was that was playing. They had some very catchy riffs and melodies, from what she could hear.

But when your music echoed through the walls so loud that someone next door could hear the words, your music was too loud.

Putting the snapped lily down, Julie wipes her hands on her apron and glares a little more at the wall, like the person on the other side would be able to see her, when there’s no change she glances at the clock. Twelve o’clock. So much for having a quiet lunch break and watching an episode of Schitt’s Creek. The only silver lining was that the music didn’t normally last for long. Twenty minutes at most.

By one o’clock, when the music is still blasting and she’s starting to gain a headache and she’s started looking up obscure flowers that could mean ‘shut up’, Julie decides she needs to do something.

The tattoo parlour has been in business next door to Petal Pushers for the last six years and as far as Julie knows there’s never been any issues between them. (In fact, Julie knows that her mom had gotten her last tattoo there and that her tia often gave them leftover arrangements for their front window and four years ago, when the flower shop had undergone a rebrand, one of their artists had designed their logo.)

All she had to do was go next door and ask whoever it was to turn the volume down. Easy.

She finds herself waiting another half an hour, just in case, but she can still hear the crashing of drums and the pulsing bass.

So she slips her phone into her back pocket and picks up her keys, turns the sign on the door to ‘back in ten minutes!’ and walks the eight steps to the right, pushes open the door to Etched in Ink and is immediately attacked by music. There’s a more authentic feeling to it now she’s in the shop, something alive about it, but it might just be the volume and how she can see the bowl of lollies on the front desk actually vibrating.

“Hello?” Her voice gets lost in someone singing about time moving slowly as she steps further into the shop, eyes glancing around. She’s been in before –– she came when her mom got her tattoo and she’s dropped off flowers on occasion –– but it’s been a while. There’s some new art work on the walls she thinks, and band posters. Fingers tapping on the desk she shouts a hello again but isn’t surprised when it’s once again swallowed by the music

Rolling her eyes Julie steps around the desk and through to the main area of the shop where the music is impossibly louder, but there’s still no one around. Honestly, it would be so easy for someone to walk in and rob the place.

Her fingers walk along the arm arm of a chair as she walks through the space and towards a slightly ajar staff door at the back. Julie knocks, to be polite, but huffs out a breath when there’s still no response. Honestly, she can barely hear herself think in this place, let alone hear someone at the door.

Pushing it open, her mouth opens to reprimand whoever is inside but instead she’s left standing both thoughtless and speechless at the guy bouncing around the room.

He’s wearing black jeans and an orange beanie that contradict with the sleeveless band shirt covering his torso. Because that’s all it’s covering, and doing a poor job at that. Julie watches, a little transfixed, as his biceps flex, sleeve of tattoos dancing with the movement as he plays along with the guitar riff of the song on the electric in his hands.

Idly, in the back of her mind, she finally understands why the music had felt different when she stepped into the shop.

He nods his head in time with the music and the crashing of a cymbal, eyes shut tight and biting his bottom lip in concentration.

And okay, Julie knows she came over to yell at the asshole playing his music too loud and is now just gawking at him. But in her defence, she didn’t know he was going to be so hot.

Julie’s still standing in the doorway staring at him, her mind trying desperately to regain control, when he opens his eyes and looks right at her. His eyes widen a fraction in surprise, and she notices his fingers slip, just a little on the frets, before a smirk curls at the edges of his lips.

In mild horror and joy, Julie watches as he takes a step closer to her, fingers moving across the strings as he follows along with the song and stares right at her.

Swallowing, and trying to ignore how warm her cheeks suddenly feel, Julie crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow at him as the song finally seems to come to an end.

“I knocked!” She blurts out the second he hits pause on the cd player in the corner of the room and she resists the urge to move hair in front of her face when he looks at her with a single raised brow. “But it’s no surprise you couldn’t hear me over this racket,” she waves vauley to his guitar, careful to avoid eye contact with his arms.

“You work next door, right?” He asks, sitting on top of the table in the middle of the room, his feet resting on the chair while he rests his guitar on his lap, folding his arms on top, muscles flexing and oh god. She really needs to stop staring at his arms.

“Mhm,” she manages to get out along with a nod of her head, eyes darting up to his face. But from the look in his eyes Julie’s pretty sure she’s been caught staring.

“I’ve seen you around,” he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and he smiles and Julie thinks that might be worse to look at then his arms. Fucking hell, “I’m uh Luke, by the way. Started here a few months ago.”

“Right,” this conversation was not going the way she anticipated. Pushing aside his employment history and his name –– though she is grateful to have it –– Julie clears her throat and pulls herself up a little straighter. “That’s great. I came to ask you to turn the music down. I can barely think next door.”

“You don’t like the songs?” There’s a slight pout on his lips that almost distracts her and has her saying she does like the songs.

Instead she shakes her head, “It’s not exactly the soundtrack I want when making a funeral arrangement.”

Honestly, she had been expecting him to nod in understanding, apologise for the loudness and promise to keep it down. She didn’t expect him to let out a laugh –– which was bright and clear and made his eyes crinkle in such a cute way that it totally distracted her from his biceps –– or lean towards her with a grin.

“Are you kidding!? A song about how life is short and you’ve got to live it like it’s now or never––” he sings the line and suddenly Julie is hit with the knowledge that the music she’s been hearing over the last few weeks is apparently his, ”Is the perfect soundtrack for a funeral arrangement. Also possibly christenings. But I don’t know if flowers are a thing for those.”

“Of course there’s –– No, no stop,” she closes her eyes, throwing her hands up before she really loses track of the conversation, “I’m not here to talk about flower arrangements. I just came to ask for you to please turn the music down,” she pauses, eyes darting to his arms and the guitar they’re resting on before pointing at the amp its plugging into, “And if you’re going to play, to do it at a 1, not a 10.”

“Even if I play something arrangement appropriate like You Raise Me Up?” Luke leans a little more forward, pushing himself to the edge of the table until his guitar is almost touching the back of the chair.

“Even if you played Danny Boy,” Julie doesn’t know when she’d copied him, tilting forward at the waist so they were almost eye level, but when she notices she can make out the details of the book inked into his skin she realises they’ve drifted closer. Cheeks warming, she stands up straighter and brushes her hands down her apron.

“Just–– keep it down. Please,” she turns to walk out the door but hesitates, turning to look at him over her shoulder, eyes firmly on his face, “If not for my sake then for your own. Anyone could walk in here and rob you, and you wouldn't hear a thing.”

“Hey wait! You didn’t tell me your name! Can’t spend the whole conversation staring at my arms and not give me something.”

Julie pauses, lets her eyes wander from his fingers resting on the neck of his guitar, up his inked forearms and biceps before landing on his face, quirking her lips a little, “Think of it as payment for disrupting my lunch.”

She’s halfway through the main room when she hears him stuttering out a laugh and calling after her again, and it takes all her willpower not to turn around.

Unfortunately that means she’s a blushing mess by the time she makes it back into her shop, shaking her head as she tries to stop smiling.

After their first encounter Luke doesn’t play his music too loud anymore, but Julie suddenly starts seeing him all the time anyway.

A Tuesday morning when she’s opening up, blinking back a yawn and fumbling with her keys and he’s wandering up with a wide grin and too chirpy hello. She’s fairly certain she grumbles something about daylight and needing coffee before dealing with him and an amused smile on his lips. (The next Tuesday when he’d strolled up he’d had a carrier with two take out cups and handed one to her without a word. Julie had stood stunned for a few seconds before her brain kicked in and she’d opened the door with a muttered thanks.)

A Thursday evening when she’s lugging a bag of garbage out to the bins at the back of the shop and Luke’s sitting on the old deck chair in his shop's yard, notebook open on his lap and pen tapping on his knee. He’d gotten up, pen tucked behind his ear and book stuffed in his back pocket, and come over to help her. After she’d said thank you they’d hesitated in each other's space and shared a smile before going their separate ways. (Later, Juile wrinkles her nose when she realises it’s the first time they’ve both smiled at each other and it had been next to the god damn bins.)

A Friday at lunch time when she’s bringing out a tray of flowers to give to the hearse driver parked on the street and Luke walks past humming the tune to Danny Boy under his breath, making her burst into a fit of giggles that makes him grin and the driver frown and her blush. (She sees him walking past again half an hour later and waits until she’s sure he’s inside before hitting play on their sound system, You Raise Me Up starts blasting through the shop and she grins to herself when she hears something hit their connecting wall.)

A Sunday afternoon when she’s collecting all the leftover bouquets from out front of the shop and Luke walks past her, hands in his pockets and guariar case slung over one shoulder. He pauses as she straightens up with a collection of rose bouquets in her arms, she raises an eyebrow at him and Juile could swear he blushes, but it’s probably a trick of the dying light. He’d given her a two finger salute, muttered something about having a good afternoon and then hurried away. (Julie had spent the last hour of her shift before closing thinking about the way the denim jacket he had been wearing did very little to hide the definition of his arms.)

So Julie’s used to seeing him around now.

To their little quips and shared coffees on Tuesday mornings and the way the ghost tattoo at the bottom of his bicep seems to dance whenever he shoots her a wave.

But she’s used to seeing him outside.

Never inside Petal Pushers surrounded by flowers or tilting his head as he listens to the softly playing music.

But on a Wednesday afternoon as she comes out of the back room when someone rings the bell on the counter she’s greeted by Luke doing just that. He’s got one hand pushed into the front pocket of her jeans while his other is idly tracing a pattern on the counter top, it’s only when she gets a little closer that she realises he’s tracing music notes.

“Hi, welcome to Petal Pushers. I’m Julie, how can I help you today?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, mind working on autopilot at the sight of a customer.

A slow smile spreads across Luke’s face as he looks down at her, his fingers stilling on the counter, “So you’re name’s Julie,” he says and Julie doesn’t think she’s ever heard anyone say her name like him. Like it’s the lyric to a song they’ve been trying to finish or a missing puzzle piece.

Letting out a sigh she gives him a nod, chewing on her bottom lip as she really looks at him. Over the last few weeks Julie has learned that he doesn’t work Wednesdays, that he has a real aversion to sleeves and when he knows no one is booked in for an appointment he uses the time to practice for his band. She’s also learnt that he bites his lip way too much for her health, has a tattoo on his ribs that she’s dying to fully see and that he rubs the back of his neck when he’s nervous.

Like he’s doing right now.

“It is. Did you just come in to finally find out or did you need some flowers?” She tilts head at him and smiles.

“I uh––” his hand is still rubbing at his neck and Julie watches his tongue run over his lips and she has to blink quickly to refocus her eyes when he starts talking, “I heard that flowers have different meanings, right?”

“Uh yeah,” she nods, still blinking, but more in confusion now. This isn’t quite what she thought the conversation was going to be.

“Okay cool. So um, how would you say fuck you in flowers?”

Julie blinks, opens her mouth to say something only to close it again. Huh. Really wasn’t what she expected him to ask.

“Well, do you want to say it subtly? Passive aggressive? Just a straight up fuck you?” Her mind is already thinking about possibilities and what they have in stock.

“Straight up fuck you,” he nods once before muttering, more to himself then her, “I don’t think Bobby would even understand subtly.”

Squinting for a moment, Julie knocks her knuckles on the counter top once before pushing away from it and starting to move around the shop. She picks out a few pink peonies and pale pink geraniums, she looks at the different carnations they have out, pursing her lips in thought.

“What exactly has this Bobby done? Dumped you for someone with better biceps?” She teases, glancing at him over her shoulder as she deliberates between the yellow and purple.

“I wish. That would have been better,” he sighs and Julie frowns at him, brows drawing together as she watches him tap on the counter. “He uh he used to be in my band? But he left because of ‘creative differences’, which was basically because he wanted us to sell out to the first big name label.”

He looks up at her, eyes wide and disgusted at the mere thought of it. And well, she understands that. From the little she’s heard of their band through the walls Julie’s fairly certain they don’t need to sell out to make it big. So she nods at him, tilting her head and hoping he gets that she understands.

“So he left and that was–– it was shit really because we’d all been friends for years. Me and the boys, we tried to keep in touch with him because he left the band but we didn’t think it meant we’d stop being friends, y’know?” Luke moves away from the counter now, wanders over to her and fingers the brushing gently over the petals of a rose as he frowns, “But he cut us off. Found out why yesterday.”

He pauses, fingers still moving over the rose and Julie takes the opportunity to pick out a few of the orange carnations, mentally deciding to fetch two sprigs of meadowsweet from the back when Luke starts talking again.

“He signed with some big shot label and has an album coming out in November. Seven out of the ten songs on it are mine,” as he says it he pulls a little to hard on the petal, tearing it in half, “Fuck, sorry.”

Julie waves away his apology, picking the damaged rose out and adding it to her arms. There’s a dull sort of roaring in her ears as she walks back to the counter, still trying to wrap her head around his story.

His friend had stolen his songs. Had stolen his songs and sold out.

She looks down at the flowers on the counter, stupidity and disappointment and uselessness and anger. Glancing up at Luke, who’s wandered back to the counter, hands pushing into his pockets and looking a little lost.

“He really stole your songs?” She asks gently. It’s been a long time since Julie played her own music, even longer since she wrote a full song, but she knows how much it would hurt her if someone ever stole them from her. Especially if that person had been her friend.

“Yeah,” Luke breaths, resting against the counter and shrugging at her.

“Okay then.”

Holding up one finger she hurries into the back room, picks up a roll of cellophane and the worst ribbons they have, two sprigs of meadowsweet and plucks a single orange lily from the bucket against the wall. Luke’s still leaning against the counter where she left him, staring at the collection of photos on the wall behind it. Most are just photos of their most popular bouquets but mixed between them are photos of her and her mom and her brother and her tia and her dad.

“Your aunt owns this place, right?” He asks casually. Too casually. Like he already knows the answer. Glancing up at him she hums, waiting to see where he’s going with it. “That’s cool. She brings us flowers for the front sometimes. Willie did your logo design, I think.”

Julie smiles at the mention of Willie, he’s a year older then her and had been working at Etched in Ink for the last four years, her mom had picked his design out she remembers. The rough sketched dahlia with music notes hidden in its petals and a rose in the centre. A combination of her moms and her tia’s favourite flowers and music that had always brought their family together.

“My mom said he really managed to capture our family business in it,” she chuckles, moving a carnation and adding one of the meadowood springs. Which might have been true, but Julie also knows they’d picked it because her mom only had a few months left and her tia wanted their new logo to still have something of her in it.

“He’s pretty good at doing that,” Luke agrees and the way he smiles at her lets Julie know that he knows about her mom. And she’s glad he doesn’t mention it, doesn’t try to offer any condolences. “He’s helping Reg re-do our bands logo.”

“Oh?” She raises an eyebrow though her eyes are still on the flowers. In go the peonies and geraniums, colours clashing.

“Sunset Curve. You should uh––” he hesitates for long enough that Julie looks up at him, at the faint blush on his cheeks and one hand at the back of his neck. “You should check us out. We’ve got a few videos on youtube. Or I could uh I could get you a copy of our demo.”

She looks at him for a heartbeat, at his pink cheeks and the way he’s biting his lip despite smiling and the blank space of skin on the underside of his arm. Julie gives him a half smile, eyebrows flicking up as she teases, “Okay, Sunset Swerve, right?”

“I’ll go back to playing our demo super loudly,” he tries to glare at her, but it's ruined by the way his lips stick out in a pout and the lock of hair falling across his forehead.

“Mhm, and I’ll just call the police with a noise complaint,” she grins at him.

“If you were gonna do that you’d have done it already,” he points out and yeah. He has a point there.

“Maybe,” she concedes looking back at the flowers and sticking the lily straight in the middle. No better way to say fuck you then with an orange lily. Without measuring she cuts off a length of the bright lime green ribbon and lays a section of cellophane on the counter top.

“That’s a terrible colour,” Luke points out mildly and when Julie flicks her eyes up she sees him grinning. She wraps two elastic bands around the flower stems and cuts them all down to the same size before laying them on the plastic wrap and rolling them together.

“Can you––” she gestures with her finger for Luke to hold the ribbon and cellophane in place while she ducks down to find a packet of flower food to attach. She might not like who the flowers are going to but that doesn’t mean the flowers should suffer the price. Tying the ribbon into a bow over Luke’s finger, she taps him lightly with her pinky to move it before pulling the loops tight.

“Do you want a card?” She asks, wondering which of their options would suit this type of bouquet best. Maybe just one of the plain yellow ones.

“Oh yeah. Can it say ‘Hey Bobby, fuck you’.”

Julie pauses with her pen hovering over the card, waiting to see if he’s going to add anything else.

“Just–– just that? Nothing more?” she looks up at him but Luke just shakes his head, nodding down to the card for her to finish. Shrugging she does, using her best cursive so he knows the sentiment is meant. She holds it up for Luke to inspect and when he grins she slots it into the flowers, stepping back a little to admire her creation.

It’s absolutely horrendous. It’s perfect.

“This is great,” Luke grins as his eyes roam across the flowers and Julie’s pretty sure he has no idea what any of them mean. But he’s definitely picked up on how awful it looks which seems to be good enough for him. “How much do I owe you?”

“Do you want them delivered?”

“Yeah that would be good,” he pulls his wallet out and Julie has to bite hard at her bottom lip to stop from laughing as she notices the chain attached to his belt.

“That’ll be $15,” she presses a few buttons on the cash machines screen, the card reader lighting up as she waits to see how he’ll be paying but Luke’s just frowning at her.

“That can’t be right. It says the orange and purples ones alone are like ten dollars.”

“Mhm, I’m only charging you for delivery,” she can tell he’s about to argue so she’s quick to speak, “As someone who once thought of herself as a musician, anyone who steals songs deserves worse than an ugly bouquet of flowers. Fifteen dollars Luke.”

There’s a different look in his eyes as he taps his card on the reader, something assessing. Like she’s just handed him another piece of a puzzle when he thought he’d completed it. Julie looks down at the card reader, ready to tear off his receipt so she doesn’t have to wonder what he’s seeing when he looks at her.

“They’ll go out this afternoon, be with Bobby by seven pm at the latest,” she says, pushing the post-it note with the address firmly onto the cellophane and gives Luke a smile.

“Thanks,” the smile he gives her in return is a lot softer than she’s used to from him. But she likes it. “I’ll uh, see you tomorrow?”

It’s a question, hesitant and careful. Almost like he’s worried she won't want to see him tomorrow. Which is silly. Seeing Luke, even briefly in passing, has quickly become her favourite part of the day. Not that she has any intention of letting him know that. That would be embarrassing.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke.”

“Bye. Julie,” and there’s her name again coming from his mouth that’s curving up into a smile. All she can do is wave awkwardly as he leaves.

A gasp of air leaves her lips as the door shuts behind him and she slumps forwards on the counter, nudging the flowers with her elbow, “Oh fuck.”

The saturday after the fuck you flowers Julie is handed an envelope by Victoria when she walks in for her shift at twelve o’clock. Julie gives her credit, she doesn’t start asking questions about ‘the puppy eyed boy’ until after she’s at least put her bag down.

“He all but pouted when I said you weren’t in yet, mija,” from the way Victoria wags her eyebrows Julie gets the feeling she might have ‘accidentally’ let slip when she was due in.

“I think that’s just his face tia. He made the same one when I said pizza was overrated.” Which was the wrong thing to say as Victoria’s eyes light up.

“And why were you talking about pizza?” She leans on the counter, handbag slipping down her shoulder at the movement.

“Because he mentioned he was getting pizza with his friends, that’s all. Nothing is going on between us, we’re just friends,” Julie tries to put as much stress on the word friends as she can. But Victoria just lets out a small hum, a knowing smile on her lips that Julie doesn’t want to acknowledge.

“If you say so Julie. Right, I’m off. See you for dinner tomorrow?” She pushes herself off from the counter, pushing up her bag and pointing one manicured hand at Julie.

“Papi’s making enchiladas, so there’s no need to bring anything.”

“Of course,” but they both know she’ll still bring something, perhaps a salad. Perhaps a whole meal. Victoria blows her a kiss and then turns in a flurry of skirts out of the door, leaving Julie shaking her head after her, a smile on her lips.

As soon as she’s sure that Victoria isn’t going to come bustling back in having forgotten something Julie unseals the envelope and pulls out a cd case with a post-it note stuck to the front. It takes her a while to work out what it says, but it’s easy enough to see the number scrawled at the bottom in a different handwriting.

It makes her smile, thinking about Luke writing the note and then asking one of his friends to write his number, like he wanted to make sure she could clearly read it. It almost makes her think he really wants to know her thoughts.

Making sure no one's about to come into the shop Julie slips into the back room and over to their sound system, taking out the cd of classical music and replacing it with the Sunset Curve demo. It doesn’t take her long to recognise the opening guitar riffs as the song that Luke had been playing along too when they’d first met, laughing a little to herself, she goes back to the front. Pulling one of the chairs over, she sits down and flips through the little leaflet that the cd came with.

Three faces looking out at her and one scribbled over in black sharpie. She’s going to hazard a guess that that’s Bobby. There’s writing underneath the photo and peering at it closer Julie sees that someone's someones written their names. Alex, Luke and Reggie. She shakes her head at the way he’s added his own name for her, just in case.

“Idiot,” she mutters fondly.

Luke doesn’t come back in, which is probably for the best because Julie keeps his demo playing for the rest of the day.

By the third play through she’s started to memorise the lyrics and by the fifth she’s adding in imaginary keys to parts of the songs and by the sixth she can harmonise along with them.

Around four, when she’s waving goodbye to a customer who came in asking for something blue she decides to take a break, turning the sign on the door as she presses Flynn’s name in her phone. She’s just turning the volume down on the sound system when her best friend answers.

“Okay, what’s the latest with Mr Arms?”

“He left me his demo and number, Flynn,” she whines, flopping down on the lumpy sofa, head hitting the wall softly.

“Is it bad?” Flynn asks and she can practically hear the frown in her voice. After the flower incident Julie had driven to Flynn’s dorm room and told her everything, and then they’d spent two hours looking through youtube for their videos. And they were good. Really good.

“No. It’s great. Amazing. Listen,” Julie pulls her phone away from her ear and hits the speaker button as the chorus of Late Last Night starts and she quietly sings along with Luke’s voice.

“Oh this is catchy,” she mutters, voice echoing through the room and Julie nods before remembering this is a phone call and her friend can’t see her.

“I know,” she groans, “Flynn. He’s hot, he plays guitar like a rockstar, he’s funny and helps me take out the garbage and his arms, Flynn. His arms!”

“I know babe. He’s got the arms of a greek god. You’ve told me,” there’s a teasing note in Flynn’s voice that just makes Julie groan again, slipping further down the sofa.

“What am I going to do?”

“Well, now hear me out, you could just text him. And ask him out.”

When she says it like that it sounds so simple. Julie frowns a little, absentmindedly nodding her head along with the outro to the song as she thinks about it. Texting him. Asking him out. Because what if he doesn’t like her like that? Sure they’ve been sort of flirting for a few weeks but he probably does that with everyone. With his face and personality, not to mention the whole band thing, he could get anyone he wanted, so why would he go for her?

“Okay Jules stop, I can practically hear you spiralling through the phone.”

“He might not even like me like that. He probably just wanted an opinion on his music,” she tries but it sounds weak even to her.

“Right, first of all you are hot. And anyone would be lucky to go out with you, more than lucky, they should be honoured that you’re even considering going out with them,” Julie laughs a little, but there’s no stopping Flynn when she’s on a roll, “Second the boy has taste if he’s asking for your opinion on his music because you have amazing taste. And third, they’re playing a show tonight at the Grange so meet me at mine at eight so I can judge your outfit.”

It takes Julie a moment to register what she’s said and then she’s blinking, pushing herself up on the sofa until she’s sitting up straight, “What? How do you know that?”

“They’re on twitter. And they really need some help on that front because there are so many typos,” Flynn trails off for a moment before her voice is back, “If it works out between you and Mr Arms I might consider offering them my services.”

“Isn’t the Grange a 21+ club?” She asks as her last argument but she already knows what Flynn is going to say. The fake ID in her purse is practically laughing at her.

“Fakes baby. Eight o’clock. Bring some of your dad's brownies.”

Julie doesn’t have a chance to think of any reasons why she can’t go before Flynn is saying “Love you bye!” and hanging up. She makes sure to carefully put the cd back in its case and slip it in her bag before locking up for the night, if they’re going to see them play Flynn should get to hear the whole demo.

The club is already busy when they show their ID’s to bouncers and wander in. Bodies press into each other on the dance floor in front of the stage, moving along to whatever the dj is playing so loudly it just sounds like bass to her. Flynn wraps a hand around her wrist and tugs her over to the bar, pushing through a group of boys around their age until they’re leaning on the counter.

“This place is smaller than I expected,” Julie shouts, shooting the bartender a smile as he puts down two beers in front of them and takes Flynn’s money.

“I guess unsigned bands can’t be picky,” Flynn grins at her as she picks up her drink and the two of them weave back through the crowd to one of the tables off to the side of the dance floor. There’s no chairs, but they don’t mind standing, “I wonder what time they’re on,” she taps the screen of her phone to check the time and Julie peers over as 9:32 flashes up.

Julie looks around, idly taking a swig of her drink as she watches a group of girls dance, laughing and giddy. The one downside to opting to take a year off before college is that she’s missing out on all this every week.

The sneaking into clubs and drunken dancing and shitty beer and new friends. Flynn always invites her when she goes out and she’s gone a few times, but it’s not the same. And anyway she’s meant to be using this year to decide what she wants to do. Who she wants to be. She’s pretty sure she’s not going to find it at the bottom of a bottle or on a sticky floor.

She pulls at the hemline of her black high waisted shorts, wiggling her hips a little as she tries to pull them down while trying to keep her lilac off shoulder crop top from riding up. It’s a delicate balance and she’s feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“Hey,” Flynn’s hand appears in her line of sight and Julie follows it up to her face where she’s peering at her through gold shimmering eyes, “You look amazing. Stop fussing.”

Julie blows out a breath, dropping her hands from her shorts and lifting her drink to her lips and drinking. Flynn’s growing smile is enough for Julie to try and relax. And then the DJ is pausing the music and announcing the last band of the night, there’s a loud cheer from the gathered crowd as the three members of Sunset Curve stroll onto the stage.

The dark haired bassist, Reggie, waves at the crowd as he checks his bass is plugged in, throwing a wink at someone in the front row with a grin. Alex seems to be looking for something in the crowd and finds it if the wide smile on his face is anything to go by. But Julie doesn’t really spare them much more than a sweeping glance as her eyes land on Luke.

Apparently the lack of sleeves extends to the stage, as does the beanie –– which makes zero sense and she will be teasing him about it if she doesn’t melt into a puddle of goo by the end of the night –– , but there’s an ease to the way he walks up to his mic, guitar strap across his body and plucking a pick out of his mouth. He grins at something Reggie says that none of them can hear, and his face lights up and Julie knows that whatever they’re about to see is going to be incredible.

“Hey, thanks for coming out tonight. We’re gonna kick this off with something from our upcoming EP. This is Now or Never.”

Luke nods at Reggie and Reggie nods at him and then they’re playing. She’d thought their demo was good, had thought their badly recorded covers on youtube were good, had even liked the little she’d heard through the walls three weeks ago, but hearing them live is another feeling altogether.

They’re better than good and amazing doesn’t feel strong enough. Their whole performance is high energy and makes you want to get up, to dance, to sing along. So they do.

Julie downs the rest of her drink and then clutches Flynn’s hand as she pulls them through the crowd until they’re in the middle of the floor. Bodies pushing in around them, all jumping and swaying and some even singing along when they know the words. She lets herself get lost in the music, in the feeling of the drums through the floor and how the bass line reverberates through her.

It’s when they start In Your Starlight that Luke’s eyes find her in the crowd.

She knows the moment he does because his eyes widen a little and his fingers slip, playing the wrong note as he stumbles a half step backwards. And then he’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners as he nods at her, tongue sticking out slightly between his teeth before he starts to sing. While looking directly at her.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in her system or Flynn’s pep talks have finally clicked in her head, but she doesn’t look away, she sings his song back to him. She liked to think the slight tinge of pink on his cheeks by the end of the song is because of that.

They close with a cover of Everybody Talks and when Luke raises an eyebrow at her and nods to the side of the floor where the booths are she doesn’t hesitate to nod with a grin.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve!” Luke shouts into his mic, wiping sweat off his face as he grins out the crowd.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie chimes in, winking at someone and then they’re walking off the stage and Julie is pulling Flynn over to the booths. For a moment, she hesitates as she looks at them, not sure where to go because they’re all occupied. And then a familiar face is waving them over and Julie breaths out a sigh and a smile at the sight of Willie.

“Molina! I didn’t know you were coming!” He grins as Flynn slips into the booth first and Julie slides in after her.

“Sort of a last minute thing,” she laughs nervously, because now that she’s here and knows they’re about to come out she’s suddenly second guessing everything. “This is my best friend Flynn. Flynn, Willie, he works at Etched in Ink too.”

“Oh! You did the logo right?” Flynn asks and then they’re talking about designs and colours and how sometimes a simple line drawing is better. Julie’s half listening, trying to feign interest but her eyes keep going to the side door that she knows leads to backstage, waiting for it to open.

Somehow, despite constantly looking, she still misses them coming out because suddenly a pair of arms are around Willie’s neck and a blonde head is pressing a kiss into his cheek. Julie looks up to find Luke already grinning at her, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Hey,” she thinks he’d have probably whispered it if they weren’t in a crowded club that’s started blaring music again.

“Hi,” and she waves.

God, why did she just wave at him? Before she can do something else embarrassing, like hiding her face in her hands, an arm appears around Luke’s neck and Reggie’s face is next to his grinning from ear to ear.

“You must be Julie.” Something about the way he says her names makes her want to run, like she’s walked into a trap without realising it. Instead she nods hesitantly.

“That’s me. You must be Reggie,” she tries to imitate the way he said her name but she’s not sure it works, but Luke elbows his friend in the side and then he’s sliding into the empty space next to her.

“I’m Alex. Ignore Reg. What he meant to say was we’ve heard a lot about you,” Alex smiles at her and there’s a teasing sort of tone in his words that makes her think she’s missing out on a joke. But she focuses on the other bit of information and turns to look at Luke.

“Aw, you’ve been talking about me?” She nudges his knee with her own, only realising just how close they’re sitting after the fact.

Luke shrugs at her, but he’s smiling and there’s a flush to his face that could be left over from their performance but she doesn’t think so, “Course I have.”

The simple way he says it, accompanied by the unbroken eye contact is enough to make her blush.

“I’m Flynn by the way. Julie’s best friend,” Flynn cuts through, leaning on the table to look directly at Luke who finally looks away from her and there’s definitely a flush on his cheeks.

“Did you uh, like the show?” He asks, and it’s to the table, but he glances at her.

“You guys were awesome, as always,” Willie says, lifting his hands that have been linked with Alex’s since the three boys sat down and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“You were better than I expected you to be,” Flynn shrugs and Alex lets out a disgruntled sound as he looks at her which starts a debate on what she thought they were going to be like. But Julie isn’t paying much attention and neither is Luke, because he’s looking at her expectantly for her answer.

She considers for a moment, tilting her head as she looks up at him, “You were–– you were amazing up there. More than amazing but I don’t know the word to describe it. All of you, but–– I liked watching you the most. You’re–– spectacular.”

“Really?” His eyes are searching her face, as if he can tell just by looking at her if she’s lying, but she just nods her head at him and smiles, he nods his head a little, biting his lip as he smiles too.

“Though I do have question why the fuck you’re wearing a beanie.”

“I told you it was stupid!” Reggie shouts and his hand is reaching across the table to hover in front of Julie’s face, waiting for a high five. Luke shakes his head at her, but she grins and claps her hand to the bassists.

“I thought we were friends,” Luke whines, a hand over his heart as he pouts at her.

“The beanie is so stupid,” is all she says, giggling as he pouts more and pulls the hat off his head, hair sweaty and a mess and she tries really hard not to look at his arms as he runs his fingers through the brown locks. Biting her lip again as she looks away, her eyes catch Alex’s who shoots her a knowing grin and she’s suddenly very grateful for the low lighting as she blushes.

“You really liked the show, though?” Reggie asks, bringing them back to the original question.

“You guys were great,” she smiles at him and Alex, “I especially like the drum solo in Lakeside Reflection? And oh my god the way you go back and forth in the bridge for Late Last Night, is amazing. Have you ever thought about mixing up the order you come in on it?”

She glances over at Luke as she says it, and there’s a moment, where their eyes meet when he’s got this soft sort of look on his face, like she’s once again handed him another puzzle piece and then she blinks and it’s gone and he launches into talking about their songs.

Later, after Flynn has unlocked her dorm room and the two of them have collapsed on her bed giggling and exhausted, Julie pulls her phone out of her bag and finally texts the number she saved hours ago back in the shop.

Luke replies within seconds and Julie clutches her phone to her chest with a giddy smile as Flynn teases her for being in love. She doesn’t even know what to say to deny it.

They start texting a lot after that. Silly memes they see and questions about if modern rock is better than classic and do different coloured roses mean different things.

It feels –– and Julie hasn’t said it out loud but she thinks it an awful lot –– like they’ve become real friends. Which makes it so much more awkward as her stupid crush on him grows. Because now he’s more than just the hot guitarist next door that she occasionally talks to. Now he’s Luke, the hot guitarist from next door who she talks to every day and is her friend.

Flynn just laughs at her, insisting there’s really no issue here and that she should just ask him out already so that she can sort out their social media situation without seeming pushy. Julie pointed out she could just offer but Flynn has said that would be weird.

And okay so, logically, Julie knows that he probably does like her. They’d spent the whole night after his show pressed together in that booth, knees touching and talking about whatever came to mind and she’d finally gotten a chance to look at the tattoo on his side.

(The detailed heart and a gramophone horn and the music notes that she’d hummed out loud. She could swear his eyes dipped to her lips as she did so and Julie had almost reached out to trace the lines inked into his skin. Instead she’d looked at his arm, at the tattoos littering his skin and listened as he explained some of them to her. The story of his life, really. She’d started tracing the outline of the guitar on his forearm, the year when he’d first met Alex and Reggie inked at the base, when she’d started talking.

“My mom had tattoos. We were supposed to go and get one together when I turned eighteen,” she’d trailed her finger tips up the neck and over the scrap of cloth attached to it, vaguely noting the way he seemed to shiver, “We had the designs all picked out and I promised her I’d still get mine. But… I’ve been putting it off,” she’d smiled ruefully up at him then, nose wrinkling.

Luke had put his hand over hers on his arm, thumb gently running over the back of her hand as he’d said, “When you’re ready to do it, book it for a Saturday.”)

And he’d started lingering on Tuesdays when he passed her her coffee, to talk about their weekends and if they had busy days and if she wanted to come watch them rehearse on Wednesday and how Bobby had apparently tried to reach out after the flowers. None of them had responded because now the ball was in their court and when they got to initiate the cutting off it was better.

And if she looks at it all. The little moments and touches and smiles and lingering looks, Julie logically knows that he likes her. But there’s still a chance, small as it might be, that he doesn’t.

And it terrifies her.

Surprisingly, or really, unsurprisingly, reassurance comes in the form of a drummer and bassist strolling into the shop on Tuesday morning two weeks after she saw them play for the first time. Julie smiles at them, albeit a little awkwardly, closing her pen in her notebook as she takes in the coffee holder in Alex’s hands and the way Reggie looks around the place in wonder.

She hadn’t seen Luke this morning, though he’d sent a text to say he was sick and wouldn't be around, but that doesn’t explain why she has two members of Sunset Curve in her shop.

“Hey guys, you need anything?” she raises an eyebrow at them, folding her hands on top of her notebook.

“Nah, just here to drop this off for Luke,” Alex smiles at her, freeing the coffee cup and putting it down in front of her.

Julie blinks at it, mouth parting slightly before looking back at Alex confused and chokes out, “What?

“He said he brings you coffee on Tuesday mornings and asked us to do it today because he’s being all dramatic in bed over the flu,” he rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond sort of tone in his voice that does little to help her confusion.

“But he–– I don’t…” Julie trails off as she frowns at the coffee. Luke was sick and he was still worrying about her getting her coffee? She feels like the world is spinning on a different axis.

“Can you make me a yellow bouquet for under $20?” Reggie pulls her out of her spiral and she blinks up at the two of them, catching the tail end of the glare Alex shoots at him and the shrug Reggie gives in response. But it pulls her out and she blows out a breath, pushing thoughts of Luke to the side as she nods.

“Any flowers in particular?” She asks.

Half an hour later the boys leave, with Reggie clutching his little posey of various yellow flowers –– that cost over $20 but if she could change Luke only $15 on a $50 bouquet, she could make an exception for the happiest bassist she’d ever met –– and Alex sniffing the twelve roses he’d bought for Willie. But not before they’d both leaned on the counter as she tied a bow around the posey and Alex had stated, “Luke’s pretty dumb sometimes.”

Julie had fumbled the ribbon as she looked at them confused.

“What we mean is,” Reggie cut in “He’s our best friend, and the best song writer we know. But when it comes to his feelings and doing something with them, he’s dumb. And always pretty terrified.”

She’s still thinking about it an hour later as she sweeps up cuts and hums along with the radio. She taps her pen on her notebook as she looks down at the page she had been doodling on, and then throws it down to pick up her phone. It only takes a few minutes of googling for the number she needs and ten minutes later she’s got plans for next Saturday at one thirty.

“Julie,” Victoria’s voice cuts through her thoughts and she turns from where she’d been staring at a bucket of sunflowers to blink at her tia.

“Hm?”

“You’re going to be late mi ciel,” and she nodded to next door, eyebrows raised. Blinking, Julie glances at her phone to check the time and swears.

“Fuck. Right. I’ll um, I’ll come show you when it’s done,” she smiles at her aunt who smiles back, dropping one eye in a wink before she gets out the door.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll see it tomorrow at dinner,” Victoria blows her kiss before the door shuts and then Julie is on the sidewalk and Etched in Ink is eight steps away. Blowing out a breath she pushes her phone into the back pocket of her dungarees and walks.

When she opens the door there’s music playing faintly in the background and she smiles at how different it is from the last time she was stood here. This time she recognises the Sunset Curve poster on the wall and shakes her head at Luke’s shameless promoting. Like last time there’s no one at the front desk as she walks up to it, leaning her hip on the edge as she tilts her head to try and hear for someone in the back.

“Hello?” she calls and then there’s something crashing to the ground and someone letting out a string of curses before Luke comes stumbling through the archway and up to the desk looking breathless.

“Hey!”

She’s not as taken off guard by the sleeveless shirts and curling hair and teasing smirk as she was last time, but it still takes all her willpower to not just stare at him. Especially as he leans his hands on the desk, muscles and tattoos on display. She’s starting to think he does that on purpose.

“I have an appointment,” she breathes, looking at him and they’re so close she thinks she could count his eyelashes if she had time. God she wanted time to count his eyelashes.

“I know, I saw,” he smiles softly at her as pushes off from the desk and gestures for her to walk into the main room, “I was just getting things set up. Come on.”

Luke guides her with a hand on the small of her back over to the area he’s got set up, wagging his brows a little as she sits down that makes her laugh. Julie looks at the collection of inks and needles and bottles on the little tables next to her chair, chewing on her lip with a growing sense of trepidation.

“So,” Luke plots himself down on the stool, feet on the bar as he spins to face her with a smile, “You got a design for me to follow?”

“Oh! Yeah, right,” she sits up to dig through the front pocket of her dungarees and pull out a sheet of plain paper that’s been folded and refolded too many times to count over the last three years, she hands it to Luke, suddenly nervous about what he’ll think.

Carefully, as if he knows how important it is, he unfolds the sheet of paper and smooths it out on the arm of her chair, biting his lip as he looks it over and quietly, she can hear him humming the notes to himself as he tries to work out what the song is.

“It’s um––” Julie clears her throat as Luke looks up at her, gesturing to the drawing and starts singing faintly, “You are my sunshine.”

Luke looks at her with wide eyes and an expression she can’t quite understand and looks back at the page, quick to fill the silence, “Mom was going to get ‘my only sunshine’ but–– it’s what she used to sing to me when I was little and wouldn’t go to sleep, and it’s the first song I learnt on piano so it’s y’know, sentimental I guess.”

He still hasn’t said anything and Julie’s starting to get worried she’s done something wrong when he blows out a breath and blinks at her, small smile on his lips, “It’s beautiful.”

Then he turns to the table, gathering supplies and pulling on gloves and when he turns back to her he seems to have gotten control over his emotions again and is grinning at her, antiseptic wipe in one hand and numbing gel in the other.

“Are we feeling brave?” He teases and Julie rolls her eyes at him, laying her arm flat on the arm rest, wrist up and flipping him the finger before relaxing them back down.

“Just start stabbing me in the arm with a little needle Patterson.”

“Ooh brave it is huh.”

Gently, he holds her wrist with one hand as he cleans her skin and doesn’t let go when he turns to throw it away and to pick up the tattoo gun. His fingers tap on her palm as he looks at her, raising an eyebrow, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she blows out a breath and nods at him. But he still hesitates for a heartbeat, searching her eyes before he smiles gently and brings the gun down to her skin.

At the first stab of pain Julie hisses in a breath, fingers of her other hand gripping at the spare armrest and when Luke looks up at her she nods her head with a smile that’s almost a cringe, “I’m okay. Keep going.”

And he does.

After a while it doesn’t hurt quite so much, and she loosens her grip on the arm of the chair. She still hisses in a breath on occasion but it’s bearable, and she can sort of understand why people like getting tattoos. It doesn’t hurt that from this position she has a clear view of his bare arms and can stare at them shamelessly for as long as his head is bent over her wrist.

“Is that––” Julie lets out a laugh, eyes squinting as she tries to peer a little closer as the tattoo above his elbow, “Is that a hotdog?”

“Huh? Oh,” he looks up, blinking at her and then at his arm, joining in with her laugh as he shakes his head. “Yeah. Me and the boy got wicked bad food poisoning from some bad dogs when we were seventeen. Almost died.”

Julie blinks at him and tries really hard to stop her laughter, but it keeps bubbling past her lips, “So you got a tattoo to commemorate the time you nearly died?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, grinning at her before going back to work.

They make idle chit chat for the rest of her tattoo, talking about music they love and films they want to see and how Willie’s been trying to teach Alex to skateboard for 2 years and can still barely stand on the thing.

“And you’re done,” the buzzing suddenly cuts off and it takes Julie a moment to get used to lack of it, blinking at Luke who’s nodding down at her arm.

Carefully, slowly, she lifts up her arm to inspect his work. Five lines spanning the width of her wrist with little music notes dotted along it and she hums the tune to herself, blinking back the tears that fill her eyes as she just looks at it.

“It’s perfect,” she whispers, biting her lip as she looks at him. “Thank you.”

Luke shakes his head, pulling the gloves off his hands and balling them up before throwing them into the bin and picks up a roll of plastic wrap, tearing off a length to spread on the arm of the chair, patting it for her to put her arm back down on, “Nah, all I did was basically trace your work.”

“No for––” she gestures with her free hand around them, trying to encompass everything of the last two months. For the coffees and the laughter and the music and the conversation. “So much,” is what she settles on, and just hopes he gets it.

When he’s finished wrapping her wrist he trails his fingers up to her hand, squeezes her fingers once and then stands up, and she hurries to follow, not wanting him to let go of her hand just yet. Julie follows him back to the front of the shop, their fingers still linked and she tries to listen to him talk about aftercare and which creams are best and what to avoid. But all she can really think about is the calluses on his fingers and how she wants to know what they’d feel like brushing across her lips.

So Julie pulls them to a stop before they reach the desk, blowing out a breath as she looks up at him. She’s just gotten her first tattoo and only cried at the end, she’s feeling brave. She can ask the hot guitarist out.

“I was wondering if um you maybe–– if you wanted too––” she stutters, brows furrowing a little as she tries to get the words out and Luke just smiles at her, which isn’t helping. “Stop doing that with your face, I’m trying to ask you something,” she mutters.

It just makes him smile wider, and his fingers are detangling themselves from hers and she honest to god lets out a small whine at the sudden loss of contact. Luke’s smile turns into a smirk as he hears it, tailing his fingers up her arm and over her shoulder and up her neck and suddenly he’s cupping her cheek and Julie thinks she’s forgotten how to breath.

“Jules,” he whispers, leaning towards her and she can feel his breath ghosting across her face as she lets out a noncommittal sound, “Can I kiss you?”

A breath rushes out of her and her hands skim up his biceps and around his neck, “God please do.”

And he does.

It’s soft, just a press of their lips against each other at first and then Luke brushes his thumb across the top of her cheek and she lets out a sigh, pulling him closer as he slips his tongue into her mouth.

There’s teeth nipping at lips and her fingers running through his hair and Luke chuckling at her whine of protest when his lips leave hers to trail across her jaw, down her neck where he sucks and she moans and he has the audacity to laugh again.

So she pokes her fingers into his sides, grinning triumphantly when he tries to wiggle away, scrunching his nose up as he looks down at her.

“That’s rude,” he mutters, but there’s no heat behind it and he presses a kiss into the corner of her mouth.

“Hm, I’m sure I can think of some way to make it up to you,” Julie purses her lips, pretending to be in thought before leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him, slowly, drawing it out.

When they break apart this time they’re both a little breathless and smiling giddy smiles.

“What were you going to ask me?” he whispers, brushing his nose across hers as he tries to pull her closer and it takes Julie a moment to understand what he’s asking, her mind blank on anything that’s not Luke lips on her skin or his fingers trailering over her neck.

“Oh. Um I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner. With me. Like a date,” she wrinkles her nose at how awkward the question comes out but Luke leans back a little to grin down at her.

“Julie Molina, are you asking me out?”

“Oh shut up, you kissed me first,” she grumbles, tilting her head forward to hide in his chest and Luke laughs, she can feel it rumble in his chest and it makes her giggle a little too.

“Yeah I did. Best decision I’ve made since playing my demo way too loud,” he sounds proud and he presses a kiss into the top of her head, “I’d love to go get dinner with you.”

“Hm,” Julie agrees, trying to hide her smile in his terribly pointless shirt. Honestly, she’s never been more glad that he played his music too loud, it was totally worth the headache she had for the rest of the afternoon.

“Hey Luke,” she pulls back a little to look up at him, and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah?”

“Did I ever tell you I have a thing for guitarists with tattoos?” She smiles innocently up at him and is rewarded with the same curling smiling on his lips from the first time they met.

[ flower meanings: - pink peonies: passive aggressive anger - pink geraniums: stupidity - dark purple carnations: disappointment - meadoweed: uselessness - orange lilies: hatred (if i got any of these wrong please let me know i got my information from google fghdj) ]

ao3 link

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #julie molina x luke patterson #jatp fic #alex mercer #reggie peters #willie #flynn #*fics #people i had a freaking blast writing this lemme tell ya #bobby is mentioned but im afraid he is a dickhead my bad

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unholyhelbig · 4 years

Note

How about part two to the workplace Au you just did? Loved the first one!

A/N: Sure thing! I’m glad you guys liked the first one so much (You can read it here)

Request more prompts here | Read on ao3!

Chloe could read the discomfort on Beca Mitchell’s face as soon as she unzipped the bag that she had picked up from the dry cleaners. She was struck with the instant scent of lavender detergent, fanning her hand over the outfit like she was picking the next lucky number for the lottery.

Beca had her hand on her chin, a flash of red made her head spin. She was in sweatpants and a grease-stained shirt. She figured that if she had ignored the date on the bottom of the flyer long enough, maybe Chloe would just forget.

No such luck.

“How did you find my apartment?” She asked, clinging to the door.

“It was in your file.”

“I feel like this is slightly illegal.”

“Slightly,” Chloe pushed her way through the door and looked around the apartment. It was kept in a shockingly messy state. Beca presented herself as someone who dotted every ‘I’ and crossed every ‘T’. At least, that’s how she was at work. But there was a leaning tower of pizza boxes and a couple of record sleeves strewn across the room. “You’re not even close to ready.”

“I forgot,” She let the door swing closed “what if we just ignore this PR bullshit and watch a movie instead. Technically I’m still socializing.”

Chloe turned on her heel and scanned Beca up and down. She hugged the bag close to her. “It would look horrible for me to ditch a party I planned.”

“Then you go. I’ll keep watch here.”

“Beca,”

The coder flopped down onto the pile of blankets at the far end of the sofa. She crossed her socked feet and waved her hand in the air as if asking Chloe to continue. For the first time tonight, she noticed the makeup and the slim fitted dress that hugged every inch of the woman’s curves. The black material made the sharp disdain in her eyes glow even further.

But goddamn it, if she wasn’t absolutely captivating. And she smelled lie oranges. Beca had half the mind to stealthy survey her fingers for any trace of a ring. She hadn’t done so in the office, but there was no man to be seen in them. She had blown her chance, she figured, by being her authentic self.

“Red isn’t my color.” She stared at the dress. It had a plunging neckline and would make her look pale. She wasn’t working with much, Chloe was kidding herself. She was also here three full hours before the dreaded thing was supposed to start.

“Just give it a shot. You promised.”

“Wrong. I considered.”

Chloe tossed the bag at her. The fabric was nice, soft against her fingers. She stared at the slight bit of lace and the little bag of gold jewelry that the woman had attached. A few rings and a necklace tipped with a triangle that practically pointed at her cleavage.

“Alright, whatever. I’ll shower.”

She hoisted herself from the couch and tried not to stare too long at the look of triumph on Chloe’s face. It was equally as infuriating as it was attractive. She grabbed a towel from the pile of unfolded clothes on the other end of the sofa and vanished into the back hallway.

Chloe stood like a statue until she heard the water running. Then her curiosity got the better of her and she started to glace around the space; the walls were slathered in charcoal grey and a few album covers were framed and tacked up. Beca had a record player and an extensive library of music. It seemed to be the only tidy thing in here.

She walked over to the couch and picked up one of the blankets. It smelled like detergent and whatever musk Beca radiated herself. She started absently folding, chewing the inside of her lip, so deep in thought that she hadn’t even realized that the shower had shut off and Beca padded into the room in nothing but a towel, still soaked to the bone.

She cleared her throat “Did you clean up?”

“It’s a nervous habit,” Chloe turned and tried not to let her breath catch. The employee usually stuck with baggy sweatpants and even baggier shirts. They didn’t’ have a dress code at work and she border-lined pajamas with her outfit choices. But Beca? Beca had a figure. “You ready?”

“I’m at your mercy.” She grumbled, “But no eyeliner.”

“oh, come on.”

“You’re not getting close to my eye with a pencil, forget it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not letting the towel slip in the slightest “Fine. But I’m doing it. Stop pouting.”

Chloe begged to differ. She didn’t pout. She didn’t’ want to push it any further though, so she nodded and grasped the dress before letting Beca lead the way to her room.

Beca tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her dress as they exited the car. It had hiked up as soon as she sat down, but at that point, she didn’t’ care. The weather had taken a turn to the colder side and she just wanted feeling in her legs. A light dusting of snow had forced their driver to flick on the wipers and move closer to the glass to see past the haze of headlights.

Chloe grasped at her wrist absently, forcing her to stop shifting the fabric. Her hand was warm enough to shock her into complying, but not without a glare. They looked like quite the pair; Beca was almost the same height as Chloe with the heels that were supplied, and she stood out horridly. Red like blood on the snow after a fresh hunt.

The company had spared no expense with the carpet, purple like their logo and leading into a lavish lobby in a hotel that Beca had never been in. She was sure they would throw her out if she walked in and asked to use the bathroom with fancy soap. But when Chloe was at her side, looping her arm through her own, she could pass instantly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Chloe read the blush on the woman’s cheeks “I’m sure if I weren’t holding onto you, you’d be face down on the floor by now. Take it slow.”

“You sound like a stage mom.”

“In that case,” she frowned “You’re a horrible student.”

Beca scoffed but was secretly thankful for the human crutch. Chloe had an easy way of walking about her, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, and acted like she owned the whole building. It was one foot in front of the other, and Beca wobbled on the first few, but eventually evened out. Maybe the stance was a tactical thing- to keep the balance.

They walked through the doors and Beca instantly felt her legs wobble at the direct warmth. There was a clothed table by the entrance, lined with identical masks. Chloe plucked a red one off the table and passed Beca a black one, looking at her expectantly.

“The whole purpose of this is for you to get comfortable being around people. Maybe you can do that if they can’t see the top half of your face.” She spoke with ease as she knotted her own mask. And she had to admit, even though this was utterly stupid, she wouldn’t have recognized Chloe in a crowd. Not if she hadn’t spent the last four hours with her.

She fastened her own mask and took Chloe’s outstretched hand, begrudgingly but thankful at the same time; the ballroom was equally as impressive, violet lights on an installed dance floor and clothed tables with little favors and plates. It looked like a wedding for bank robbers, but Beca couldn’t help letting her mouth prop open.

“Shocked?” Chloe asked, scanning the décor “I do know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“The last party I went to was not this classy.” Beca breathed “We did have bongs made out of apples though, so I’m going to need you to step up your game.”

Chloe smiled, it looked brighter under her mask. She leads them towards a table in the corner and plucked two flutes of champagne from the passing waiter. Alcohol. That was something that Beca wasn’t opposed to. She finished it in two long gulps.

She hovered awkwardly by as the woman who had dragged her here in the first place spoke with a couple of people that she wouldn’t have recognized even if they were shrouded by masks. They shouted over the music; a man in a snazzy looking suit questioned her presence.

“This is one of the most talented coders we have!” Chloe shouted over the sound of the base “Almost single-handedly created the VPN.”

“You’re impressive!” He called out to her “Such a pretty date too!”

Chloe just laughed and Beca thanked him over the bass. He squeezed Chloe’s shoulder before vanishing into the crowd. She leaned close then, her breath hot against Beca’s collarbone, and that familiar floral scent clouded her lungs and judgment. “See, that wasn’t so hard. You’re a natural. Want to dance?”

She did not, in fact, want to dance. But Chloe pulled her onto the floor almost as smoothly as the champagne glasses. Beca was glad that she had swallowed it so quickly. It made the idea of dancing seem more appealing. And Chloe did have good taste in music.

They worked themselves into the crowd and Beca let the sound flow through her. She ignored all of the people, for the most part. Chloe was painfully obvious behind her, grinding close, running her hands across the dress that she had picked out. Beca felt like she was back in college- and she had to admit, she was having fun.

She lost track of how many songs they had danced to, but eventually, the DJ lowered the music and spoke into the microphone. “Alright folks, we having fun? I hope so! I want to interrupt your masquerade for just a moment.”

There were a few groans from the crowd, but none of them sincere.

“Now, I know you’re all being secretive about your identities tonight. But I want to pull the one and only Chloe Beale onto the stage. Y’all okay with that?”

There were a few shouts from the people around her, followed by applause as Chloe gave Beca’s arm a squeeze and maneuvered her way through the crowd. A woman in an even tighter navy blue dress helped her up the stage and Beca clapped along, lilting her head as she watched, captivated like the rest of the room.

This didn’t’ feel customary, bringing the party planner up to say a few words. Not when it was essentially a giant PR event for a tech company. Beca crossed her arms over her chest as Chloe captivated an entire crowd.

“I’m glad you’re all having fun under the cover of the night,” She lowered her voice dramatically, flashing that brilliant smile. “And we’re so happy to unveil our new VPN, that everyone has been working so hard on.”

It had been months of coding, Beca having to fix so many bugs that the 0’s and 1’s ran circles around her head. Hearing praise from Chloe’s lips made her tingly- or maybe that was the buzzing of her skin after eating cold pizza for breakfast and drinking on a nearly empty stomach.

“We strive for innovation and protection, and our new product can give you just that.” She gripped the podium and waited for a few cheers to settle “When I first started this company in my parent's basement, which doubled as our laundry room, I never imagined this. Thank you, and enjoy the party!”

Beca’s heart had seized in her chest then, as the music started up and the people around her moved with the rhythm once more. She let them bump into her as she mindlessly walked to the edge of the lit-up floor, towards Chloe.

This made sense to her, finally, it made sense. The reason why she was pushing her so hard to interact with other people in the office, why she didn’t have a title on her door. Chloe was the boss. Chloe had seen her ratty apartment and, oh my god, Chloe knows she smokes weed.

The woman in the navy dress talked animatedly to the woman at the side of the stage, nodding and gesturing to the rest of the room. Chloe looked pensive, she mumbled something under her breath and immediately turned towards Beca.

“Dude, what the hell?” She asked, sounding less elegant than she’d hoped.

Chloe shrugged “Stacie from HR wanted to talk to you first but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“This is literally your party.”

“Yes?”

“Like in your honor. Not something you planned.”

“Well, I did that too.” She shrugged nonchalantly as Beca gaped at her “Look, Beca. I like you, okay? You’re one stubborn girl. And I wanted to spend a night with you, is all. When the report about your lack of social skills happened across my desk, I took a chance.”

She felt her cheeks heat up “You could have just asked me, you know?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Absolutely not,” She pointed her finger “But only because you’re making me wear a dress. Maybe next time, we could just settle for street tacos or something?”

Chloe laughed, and it was a beautiful sound that mixed so perfectly with the music. “Next time?”

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe au #bechloe oneshot #bechloe fic rec #bechloe fanfiction #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect au #pitch perfect fanfiction #workplace au

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

Text

bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

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It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

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The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

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Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

#beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #emily deetz #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice the musical

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luxshine · 4 years

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The Great Supernatural Rewatch Project - Salvation

I started writting this in the middle of season 13 but RL and work and some mental health issues made me take a step back from fandom in general and well, I was also fearing this would be an unending job since the series JUST.KEPT. GOING.

However, now that the series is done (And omg, what a clusterfuck that was. My tallies are going to go insane if I get there) and thus there’s an ending in sight, I will do my best to finish season 1, and try and get the rest of the seasons in a more timely manner. Say, before they do the inevitable reunion and ignore the last episode completely.

(I’m going to be honest, part of the problem was that Supernatural used to be SO good back then, and when I see the new episodes I weep a bit inside. I can’t believe they were so much better at creating story arcs when they weren’t TRYING to create story arcs)

Of course, now we all know that Dean’s plots in general will not have a happy ending no matter what, and that makes that particular tally bittersweet. But there are STILL people who claim that nope, Dean was never mistreated by the writers and well, Jack damn it, I am not going to let that claim go without bringing numbers to the table. Hopefully, it won’t take me 15 years to finish (Because by then, I would be the only one caring I guess)

In any case, last lap for Season 1 and we begin with Salvation.

General stuff

A specific reason for me having rage quitted this episode in particular for so long: For some stupid copyright thing with Netflix, they don’t have Carry On My Wayward Son as the song for the final recap –at least in Netflix Latam. And Supernatural without Carry On My Wayward Son is no Supernatural. So I had to hunt my DVDs. Then my computer DVD player died. Then I decided to make 5 webcomics at the same time. THEN I decided to start doing illustration works, and three other projects and let’s just say I am a bit of a workaholic and leave it like that as the rest is not SPN-related.

Ahem.

Funny thing about the Road so Far –you know, besides being a LOT shorter than the ones we’re getting now- is that it focuses a lot more on DEAN at the beginning, while if you watch the show, well, we know most of those Dean scenes come from MoW episodes and not the actual mytharc. Another interesting thing is that if one believes those things to be chronological, it makes it as if the Colt had been with the brothers for a lot longer than half an episode, and that Sam’s issue with the visions is not that recent. Edition Magic everyone! Also, omg, they were babies when the series started, and how WEIRD is to see John looking at them with pride and smiling at Dean at some points.

Anyway, the recap and the epicness that is Carry On my Wayward Son ends and we start the actual plot.

Hello Pastor Jim. Goodbye Pastor Jim. And here Supernatural begins the long, long tradition of killing characters who could’ve been useful later on, and more importantly, that could’ve been the boys’s support system later on. While here it’s understandable since we need to show how dangerous and vicious Meg is –ah, irony that in about 8 seasons people will be rooting for her Redemption- it also makes the Hunters kind of useless. I mean, he has all that weaponry and only uses a knife? Sigh. Really, a waste. Pastor Jim as a concept was really intriguing –and I don’t think we’ve heard of any other hunter who was also a priest. Funny, when we have so many demons free now. There’s also the fact that when Pastor Jim claims that she can’t be in the church because it’s hallowed ground, she replies that “That might work with the minor leagues, but not with her” and I wonder… did we ever got a demon that couldn’t enter a church? Because right now out of the top of my head I can’t remember, and yet Pastor Jim was surprised but later no one seems to think it weird there were signs of demonic activity around his body. Another sign that, as engaging as the series was, once we start digging the world building, things fall apart very quickly.

Actually, if I may digress for a bit, here we have the very first look at Supernatural´s second biggest problem: killing support characters that may have been useful lately. Here it is because Kirkpe had this weird idea that Hunting would never be glamorized by the show/fandom and it would be a completely miserable and lonely existence. He also didn’t think that the series would survive past season 2. So, ok, killing the guy we only knew by throw away lines didn’t seem so bad. By season 13 every single recurring character had died at least once –and there were petitions to bring back I think every one of those who haven’t come back- it’s a big problem.

As I restarted writing, I also realized that the mere existence of Pastor Jim and his room of awesome research and weapons creates a problem in the future about the Men of Letters because… ok, so ONE member of the clerigy knew enough about demons and stuff to be a hunter and have THE Hunter as his main contact (John Winchester was sort of a legend back then. And he had also fell out of contact with many others so the fact that he and Pastor Jim were still friendly? Kind of interesting), but what about the rest? Did the Vatican have any contact with the British men of Letters or the American ones? And if so, what the hell did they think when suddenly ALL the Men of Letters disappeared? Ok, so that’s a lot of stuff that doesn’t matter right now as it won’t actually exist until much, much, MUCH latter, but see what I mean when I say that they didn’t plan anything and the lack of a series bible hurts the show more than it helped it thrive? I am realizing right now I could write a whole treaty on the Men of Letters and their non-relationship with hunters ONLY using this cold beginning and the Henry Winchester episode.

But this is not the time for that, so we get our title card and a very, VERY young Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

We move to John who is explaining off camera everything he knows about Yellow Eye´s plan. We can tell it´s not much as he thinks it came out of hibernation and that the whole attacking families is part of a cycle, but back then it was impressive how much he had managed to find out about this demon. We also know that it attacks exactly when the baby in the house is six months old, which brings us to this little jewel:

JOHN It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.

SAM Families with infants?

JOHN Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.

SAM I was six months old that night?

JOHN Exactly six months.

SAM So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?

DEAN We don't know that Sam.

SAM Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean.

DEAN For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.

SAM Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.

DEAN No it's not your problem it's our problem!

Now, in the following seasons we will know that yes, it was ALL about Sam. But right now, the characters and the viewers don´t know that. We know that a lot of families were killed by the demon (That at this point was still “The demon” and wouldn´t become Azazael until later), and that he doesn´t take the children. So… how did Sam leap from “this demon attacks families with 6 month old children” to “It´s all about ME!”? He even ignores that Dean and John lost Mary for his last line, when he decides it´s his problem and not their problem. Also, and this is important for the “Dean is the most awful person to Sam” crowd… Dean immediately tells Sam that no, it´s not his fault. While he could harbor some ill feelings against Sam –and demon Dean, 8 seasons later, will voice them- at this point he is 100% on Sam´s side. There’s also a sideway glance from John to DEAN when Sam claims that everything is about him, and then I wonder exactly why, if John knew all about the fact that the demon chased six month old children specifically, he never resented Sam over it. One would think that given John’s love for Mary and deep desire to revenge, Sam would really be the outcast and the one only treated like a soldier (as he claims he was, but not really as we’ve seen), instead of Dean who was completely blameless in the whole thing.

(Also, this is the first time we see that Azazael´s plan didn´t make much sense IF we believed that Kirkpe had everything planned. But that´s a discussion for another time)

Anyway, John interrupts the argument to explain that while he has no idea what the demon is after (Another thing that later would be contradicted as he knew Sam had powers), but that he has managed to figure out his pattern of attack to the point that it even repeated it for Jessica’s killing (Even if much, much later, we’ll learn that it wasn’t Azazael the one who killed her, and Demons would completely forego the signs when attacking. Have I mentioned I miss the times when the myths made sense?) and the three of them pack up for their first real hunt together as they decide they will save the next baby on the demon’s list, in a town named Salvation.

Important thing to note: when John recites the demon signs, Dean immediately replies “that happened in Lawerence”. He remembers, quite clearly, what happened a week before his mother died even if logistically, at his age? He wouldn’t care nor notice. Sure, he remembers his mom’s death because that was traumatic. But random cow deaths before that? Weird show.

If Sam noticed or not the signs before Jessica died, we don’t know. John is the one who points out they happened.

After two gorgeous road shots where we see John’s truck being followed by Baby (yet another thing we lost, John’s truck. I know we needed to have the guys together all the time, but man, if Sam had inherited it, they would’ve been able to cover more terrain at times, have double the arsenal and maybe not being identified by everyone and their leviathan in season 7, but I digress), and just entering Salvation John stops, obviously spooked by something. As Dean stops behind him, they find out that Pastor Jim is dead, and John got a call from another hunter named Caleb to tell him. They assume it may be the demon they’re chasing, or maybe another demon that was looking for Pastor Jim specifically but that last theory is not very probable.

Here I have to pause to applaud Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s acting, as you can practically FEEL John’s despair at knowing an old friend of him died, and that HE was probably the cause for that death. A Winchester trait, of course, blaming themselves for everything bad that happens in their world, but unlike Sam’s early outburst, here it seems far more desperate. Of course, JDM had a lot more experience than Jared at that point, but I really wanted to make a note of it because we lost a LOT of that characterization for John, where he actually WORRIED about people and not just the hunt. Even as he decides the plan for finding out what baby the demon will take in a week, we can see him broken and confused. So much that while Sam calls him “sir” when receiving orders, Dean continues the conversation by calling him “Dad”.

John then declares that this ends now, obviously feeling responsible for what happened to his friend. A long shot from the flanderized man we’d hear about in future seasons who was infamous for letting his hunting partners die without so much as a second glance.

Also, and not to be mean to the writers, but in their endless accidentally making Sam unsympathetic, they made him say that there were too many children in the county that could be a victim and that it would take forever to check all of them. While I KNOW the intent was to make clear that they had a deadline of one week, it comes out weirdly as “I don’t want to do the footwork.” Seriously, writers should be careful with that.

Actually, let’s dissect that. Because I just thought of two ways they could’ve fixed it AND give us more info.

JOHN Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health centre in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week.

SAM Dad that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?

JOHN We check em all that's how. You got any better ideas?

SAM No sir.

So, first way to make Sam not look that bad: Give the line to Dean. I wouldn’t like it specially, but hey, he’s the sidekick, not the hero, and so far he has only wanted to bail on ONE hunt because he wasn’t sure it was a supernatural hunt so he’d be better standing than Sam in that regard.

Second way: Make Sam say that YES, he has a better idea. Because the brothers ALREADY faced Max, so he could say they could look for a baby that was a bit “strange”, like, with poltergeist stuff going around. John could not believe him, but at least Sam would be being proactive.

In any case, they separate as John planned and we see each of them get into the hospital records. We get a glimpse of John’s collection of fake IDs, that include one for a Morgue forensic doctor, then Sam getting a homely nurse giving him files and him taking notes, and Dean… getting flirty with a very hot nurse.

And I make a point of the “Oh, look, Dean is an irresponsible womanizer” trope because once again the writers shoot themselves in the foot by showing the opposite of what they were telling (And no, this time I can’t blame it on Jensen’s acting and refusal to look at his female co-stars without respect).

WOMAN Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?

DEAN (smiling) Oh God yes.

She smiles and looks down.

DEAN (Holding up his ID) Only I'm uh....working right now, so...

The writers here make us remember that a) Dean is AMAZINGLY charismatic, as the woman IS flattered and seems interested, and b) That he will NOT dump his work for a quickie. We don’t even get a “maybe later” that could make him look as if he was really into her. It’s just that he flirts naturally, or at least, this is what we can infer now, as so far he hasn’t had any one night stand fling. The one time we saw him have a sexual encounter in the middle of a hunt was with an ex-girlfriend.

And again I have to wonder what was Sera Gamble’s intention with those scenes as yes, this was written by the same team as Faith, another episode where Sam’s good intentions tend to have a darker side, and gave Dean some amazingly cool scenes.

We don’t know what Dean says to the woman, as we cut back to Sam, coming out of the hospital just in time to have a very convenient vision of a woman, a nursery and a fire. Thankfully, the vision also comes with the useful audio hint of a train passing by, so Sam gets out his map and starts checking where that could be, which leads him to the house in his vision.

And by this point, we know we’re in the right track and this is an important Myth Arc episode, because Sam only has multiple visions in Myth Arc episodes, and he has one the moment he steps in front of the house in said vision. The gods of convenience smile upon him as right then and there a woman pushing a pram comes by, and he manages to talk to her, all friendly like by pretending to having just moved. Then Sam learns the woman’s name is Monica, her baby is Rosie, and Rosie is just six months old, exactly to the day.

Also, that she’s a very quiet baby and that it sometimes seems as if she was reading your mind. Oh, and that Monica really is blind to suspicious men asking her about her family with a face that reads “Oh shit, this is bad”.

Now, HERE is where the whole “five year myth arc” story falls completely. I mean, we already knew it was pretty unlikely it was real, given Kirkpe’s original interviews, but the mere existence of Rosie contradicts every single future story beat. Because if SHE has powers before Azazael goes into her house, then it means that the babies he was hunting didn’t get powers because of him, just that his blood either connected them (hence Sam’s very specific visions), made said powers far more powerful (quite likely), or made them a little bit more prone to violence/prideful behavior. All of those possibilities match with the plan of “raising” a new King or Queen of Hell, that would be faithful to Azazael, but are a bit iffy on the “finding Lucifer’s vessel” thing. Especially since we later learn that the Angels were also helping, and all Hell knew that Lucifer’s vessel HAD to come from the Winchester/Campbell bloodline due to Cain and Abel being the roots of said bloodline, and later pretty much everyone knew Sam was Lucifer’s vessel so the whole targeting a ton of kids, in particular after Mary’s death, is kinda weird.

Oh, Lux, you will say, it is because he wanted to hide his true intentions! No one knew that Sam had been feed demon blood!

Except that the important parties, namely Heaven and Hell, did. Michael had Heaven convinced of his orders, so even if a rogue angel found out that they were speed running the Apocalypse, said angel could be killed. And any demon who was against getting Lucifer back on top would be smart enough to keep quiet so, why the secrecy?

And again, ok, I buy the original demon blood kids being important to “hide” Lucifer’s vessel but… Rosie? What good would it do to Azazael’s plan to have a psychic 4 year old when Lucifer rose? Was “little four year old girl” a good match against a grown up hunter? What was Azazel thinking, if that was the plan all the time?

Now, I want to make clear this doesn’t make THIS episode or the Season-myth arc bad. This original “Boy King of Hell” storyline WAS good. It had a lot of potential, made sense for Sam and since it was before the days of the eternal “What is wrong with Sam?” seasons, there was no boredom of a repeat. It also set a very good question of what made a monster a monster, which would be explored a bit more in Season 2. And it was long before we realized Dean having a myth arc was a pipe dream, so there was no issue there either. It made sense.

But the fact that the writers kind of forgot about everything I just pointed out with Rosie’s scene to try and weld this to the “Heaven vs. Hell” storyline in season 4, and then just promptly forgot because Sam’s powers were then firmly connected to Azazael’s blood so they never came up again and even worse, we never find another psychic kid that could’ve been feed blood by Azazael THIS year that John was chasing him? (Since we know there were no other survivors from Sam’s generation, and later we have a scene that proves that there were no previous generations to Sam’s), it's kind of weird. Personally, I dunno about you, but maybe a return to this storyline in season 6 would’ve been a lot better than we got. Maybe.

By the way, I am not counting the Boy King of Hell story arc as a dropped plot for Sam yet, as we’re going to keep with this at least until season 3. Yes, now we know it didn’t go anywhere, but at the time, and for these episodes in particular, it was THE myth arc of Supernatural. So it can’t be counted as dropped plot yet.

In any case, Sam goes and tells John and Dean about his vision and… oh, boy do we have to move John’s reaction to Emotional Violence.

It’s not good.

But before he can do more damage to Dean’s psyche, Sam gets a call from our favorite demon, Meg. Even if he doesn’t recognize her voice immediately which is weird because a) he did throw her off a window and one would think that makes a girl memorable, and b) it’s not as he knows that many girls who would call him, despite Dean’s best efforts to get him a new girl.

Meg dismisses Sam and asks for John. She makes clear that she is not playing, that she knows he has the Colt and that he will kill every single person who has ever helped John unless he gives it to her that same day at midnight. And to the brothers’ surprise, John accepts those terms (Unfortunately not before we loss Caleb too. I have a lot less interest in Caleb as a character given that he has exactly half a line in the whole show, but it’s still it’s sad to see a guy so defiant even in the face of death go so soon).

Meg also points out that John having the Colt is a “declaration of war” which is interesting as it sort of implies that if he hadn’t gotten it, then the demons would leave him and the brothers alone. And I find that incredibly funny since… no they won’t. And Azazael would’ve been ok if Sam kept the gun anyway, given why they really wanted and once again I am putting holes on the idea that this was planned from the start, aren’t I?

In any case, John declares that Meg is a demon “or is possessed by one” which… ok? First and only time we get the possibility of a demon not using a meat suit. I don’t think this is a mistake, because after all, this is back before the guys faced demons in a normal basis so they could believe that they had their own bodies besides the ones they possessed (And, more importantly, before there was a retcon that made the brothers face and know about demons since pretty much ever). To be completely fair, as much as I love Jimmy and the whole Lucifer arc once it started to make sense… I would’ve been ok if vessels weren’t needed. It added a lot of complications and ended up making the brothers actual serial killers.

Ahem.

After that little gem of wisdom that will be ignored forever, John declares that he will be taking the gun to Meg to avoid more killing and we get another questionable line for Sam. And I am curious as to how to tally it as it’s the opposite of him wanting to leave the hunt, but it’s not that nice either:

DEAN What do we do?

JOHN I'm going to Lincoln. DEAN What? JOHN It doesn't look lilke we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die.

SAM Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over.

I mean, yes, it is true that the demon is coming for Monica (Well, actually, he’s coming for Rosie, the baby, but I will let that slip pass. Sam is not interested in married ladies), and that with the gun they can kill the demon but it’s not all they’ve got. By this time, Sam has already had his big hero moment when he exorcised a plane in free fall so they could do that, then chase the demon again and then kill it.

But what is jarring is how he hears “a lot of people die, OUR FRIENDS die” and he goes “yeah, whatever, we have a mission to fulfill”.

Which is precisely what later episodes will tell us John used to do, and was the reason why John was not exactly liked by the general hunter population. And at the same time, it’s an eerie reminder of Wendigo, where Sam is willing to let innocents die (his family friends, in this particular case, just as he heard Caleb choke on his own blood) in order to get his way (revenge on the demon that killed Jess. NOT revenge on the demon that killed his mom, since at this point, Sam is still on the “I never knew that woman” train of thought).

Sure, his mind is in the hunt, and that’s commendable because yes, in the long run, killing Azazael would save more innocents (And probably stop the Apocalypse, not that Sam or the writers at that time know it), but it is still strange to see our nominal hero simply not care for his friends’ lives. I mean, at this point WE don’t know about Bobby, so the closest to a parental figure that is not John that Sam had was Pastor Jim and he just DIED.

Worst part is, this could be solved really easy: Just have DEAN be the one who voices the complaint, and have “empathic” Sam mumble that there has to be a way to save everyone (Which, of course, John will mention in a second). It would make Dean look bad, sure, but we’ve been told once and again that Dean never, EVER goes against John plans. Which… not true, ut we will talk about that later. The scene continues, and John declares that he will go to Meg alone, with a fake Colt and while Dean thinks that that won’t work, Sam has a different complaint:

DEAN Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?

JOHN I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.

SAM You mean for Dean and me. You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?

JOHN No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.

And oh, boy. Do this four lines again hold so much weight.

First, once again, Dean seems to be worried for John (logically, he’s their dad), while Sam is making the weirdest line in the universe sort of work because he’s complaining that John is trusting them to kill the demon, something HE wants to do and not four seconds ago was saying they had to do, as if it was John shifting HIS job to Sam. Seriously, I don’t want to think the worst of Sam but when you take out Jared’s acting, the text doesn’t do the younger Winchester’s any favors.

And finally… John’s lines that encompass pretty much Dean’s philosophy in the following seasons. “I want to stop losing people we love” is pretty telling, but what comes next? He actually WANTS Sam to go back to college and not worry about the Supernatural. He actively agrees that Dean doesn’t have a home, and WANTS Dean to have one. It’s as close as love as we’ll see from John to Dean in Season 1, and it hurts. It hurts because we can tell he knows he won’t be there to see it… and now, in hindsight with the finale having aired, we also know Dean didn’t get that. (And to be fair, this is the John who did deserve Heaven. Not the flanderized version we’d get in the future)

Although, ironically, Mary got to be alive again, so… One out of three?

(No, seriously, it’s obvious the writers didn’t even remember this speech when Season 12 hit, much less Season 15)

Ahem.

Dean is sent to get a fake Colt, while Sam and John wait for him. If they talked about anything, we don’t know, but when they exchange guns, Dean voices what we all know is true:

DEAN You know this is a trap don't you. That's why Meg wants you to come alone?

JOHN I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets...

DEAN Dad... JOHN What? DEAN Promise me something. JOHN What's that. DEAN This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead. JOHN Same goes for you. (There is a long pause) All right listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count.

SAM Yes sir.

JOHN Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?

Again, I wish they remembered all they had to get rid of demons before, you know, killing everyone willy-nilly. I mean, I don’t even think I know what Mandalac IS but hey, John says it works, it works. And once more, Dean gets a line that makes clear he is the empathic, loving brother, when it wouldn’t have hurt Sam to say it. In fact, it would make clear that no matter what, he doesn’t hate John. But nope, Sam only acts like the soldier we’re TOLD Dean is, while Dean makes clear that for him, family is more important than revenge (And boy will that come to bite him in the ass later, not in the series, but in this same episode).

Also, I have to admit. When I started this rewatch, John’s final line was just a good moment for John to start letting go of his anger. Now? After that horrid finale? It hurts so, so much. But it hurts more because I KNOW that there’s no way it was intentional. Obviously, Kirkpe didn’t know the series would last 15 years, and I highly doubt Dabb remembered this scene when writing 15x20. But even so, it ends up being Dean’s epitaph. OUCH.

In any case, the Winchester separate again, and we go into act three. Get ready for the feels.

John Winchester hunting alone is a thing of beauty. Seeing him scope the place, check the water tank and immediately think of a plan? Makes me wish Jeffrey Dean Morgan had stayed longer on the show. Sure, John became an asshole, but in this episode he’s still not that bad, we still have no episodes that make clear he didn’t care for Dean, and wasn’t textually abusive. And I am willing to bet that if JDM had stayed, John would’ve evolved more to be a Bobby-like character. But well, What ifs is not why you came to this meta for.

As John is hunting, the brothers are staking out the house were they know Azazael will attack. And while they talk and decide that they have no way to get the family out (In a nice callback to how none of their excuses ever work) we get to this little gem of an exchange:

SAM I wonder how Dad's doing.

DEAN I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up.

SAM I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.

Where once again we see where the brother’s priorities lie, and I wonder why the hell the writers ever thought they were writing Sam as an empathic character.

Because yes, Dean is wishing he could be out there helping his Dad, proving that for him, it has always been about the family. Not the hunting, but the protecting. But Sam doesn’t want to protect John. He wants John protecting Them. And helping them in the revenge hunt, not trying to save others.

Sure, we know the brothers are there to save an innocent mother, but John is also saving a ton of hunters and people who, in the past, were nice and open to the family. And it would’ve been so much easier to make Sam look better if he instead had said “I’d feel a lot better if we hadn’t had to separate” or something like that, that proved he saw BOTH missions were important.

Seriously, I do wonder why the writers made these choices, and I wish someone had asked this at cons.

We go back to John, who, really, Is an amazing hunter even if he is a horrible father. Also, I wonder if he got ordained at a web church, in order to be able to sanctify water. That would be such a John Winchester thing to do, and I do wonder why the boys never did it too. ANYWAY, he hands the gun to Meg, and to her ally that came so that we could have a scene to prove the Colt is fake as the ally shoots Meg.

As John says, Meg was lucky the gun was fake. And once again, I do wonder what the plan was if it WAS the Colt. I mean, Meg was Azazael’s second in command. Why would nameless demon risk killing her? Or did he kinow the gun was fake?

In any case, this makes the moment where we can be 100% sure that Meg’s meat suit 1.0 was dead. I mean, she could’ve survived the fall in Shadow, but a bullet to the chest? No way.

We go back to the brothers, and Sam breaks every single law of a procedural show by giving this great speech about how thankful he is to Dean for everything, and how he needs to say that “in case” something happened.

Dean is definitely not impressed and reminds him that the only one dying today is Azazael.

As we see John temporarily escape from Meg and her muscle boy, we go back to the brothers who see the demon omens start up so they get ready for the final fight.

The brothers manage to save Monica and her baby, despite the very understandable interference from Hubbard, the husband (I mean, you would not react nicely to two strangers intruding in your house and yelling to your wife to not go into the nursery room), however, before Sam can shoot Azazel, he disappears into smoke (A really interesting question here is, WHY did Sam wait to shoot and then wasted a bullet, but I digress).

Going completely against M.O, Azazael makes the CRIB burst into flames, but fortunately Dean has already gotten Rosie out of it so the brothers escape the flaming house. While Monica cries her thanks, Sam notices that Azazael is still inside, and tries to go after him, but Dean stops him because he is not going to lose his brother to the fire. By the way, I am not counting “Dean stopping Sam from going into a burning building” as “Dean forcing Sam to do something” since, uh, he was saving Sam’s life and it’s something anyone in Dean’s place would’ve done.

At the same time, we see John getting captured by Meg and her muscle boy because he didn’t think about getting a third escape route (But honestly? That was pretty much a plot necessity. John was HEAVILY prepared for that fight)

Back in the hotel, Dean is worried that John is not answering his calls, while Sam is furious that Dean didn’t let him kill himself by running into a burning house. They have a nasty fight that mirrors the one they had back in the pilot, but since it IS a fight between the brothers, you know the drill. We’re examining it under Violence.

Once Sam calms down, he tells Dean to try calling John again. Unfortunately, it’s Meg who answers and she tells Dean that they’re never seeing their dad again.

And we get the first “To be continued” for the series (Which to be honest, despite all the little continuity mistakes I mentioned here? Is still pretty epic)

Violence

Well, we had to run out of episodes where the brothers don’t fight each other at some point, didn’t we?

This fight, over Sam wanting to kill himself in his search for revenge, is a very neat parallel to the fight they had back in the Pilot, over Sam NOT wanting to even involve himself in the family’s search for revenge. Which I know it’s supposed to be ironic and a show of character growth since now Dean is the one saying that revenge is not worth their lives but… it falls a little bit flat because the reason why Sam is so gung-ho in killing Azazael is, once again, a very selfish one and the way in he expresses it makes it quite clear. (Again, I do wonder if the writers stopped to think about the implications of Sam only getting really into hunting when it was about him or his losses?)

But let’s start at the beginning:

SAM If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.

DEAN Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life.

SAM You don't know that.

DEAN So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?

SAM Yeah. Yeah you're damn right I am.

DEAN Well that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around.

This right here? Is a nice summary of the relationship of the brothers for the whole series. Sam wants to do something stupid, like, say, running into a burning building, Dean is there to stop him before he hurts himself.

Also, let’s make clear the use of first person by Sam. It’s not “We coulda ended this”, as in the family ending the hunt, but “I coulda ended this”. Again, at this point, not something that is a problem, but considering hindsight, we can see how the writers are completely invested in SAM as a sole main character, and write him as such, while Dean is more of the sidekick.

In any case, the argument continues, still not escalating to violence.

SAM What the hell are you talking about Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.

DEAN Sam I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.

SAM What?

DEAN I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing.

Important thing how Sam apparently forgot he left for four (two) years and wanted out of the family business, now that he is angry and into the revenge thing. It’s not “You’ve been searching for this demon your whole life”, which would’ve been correct AND a logical counterargument against Dean. Before this episode, Sam was supposedly the brother who understood that revenge was a way of living, while Dean is the one who was Daddy’s little soldier. But here, when it actually would matter to the narrative, it is as if Sam’s wishes for a normal life are completely forgotten and it’s Dean the one who understands that there’s more to living than revenge (Which, btw, is consistent through the season despite everyone claiming that Dean needs Sam to keep hunting. All season, Dean has been giving Sam outs, telling him it’s ok to quit)

And of course, Dean here proves that Sam is more important to him than revenge for his mother, as he is willing to never get to kill the demon as long as his family, his brother in particular, survives.

Poor Dean.

SAM That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom.

DEAN You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.

SAM Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this don't you say that.

DEAN Sam look. The three of us...that's all we have...and it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you or Dad....

Unfortunately, script doesn’t quiet convey the scene as there’s a LONG pause between “That thing killed Jess” and “That thing killed Mom”. Enough so that we can believe that Sam is using that second phrase not because he cares (in the Pilot he made clear he didn’t), but to make Dean get on board with the whole “I can kill myself if it means getting revenge” plan. In other words, once again, Sam is weaponizing Mary against Dean, and that is a really nasty habit the younger Winchester never quite shakes out of. Instead, Dean shows how he LISTENED to Sam back in the Pilot and repeats Sam’s words to him on the bridge.

Which is when Sam loses it and pushes Dean against a wall, Dean not defending himself at all, and yells that Dean has no right to say what Sam told Dean the very first hunt they had together after years of separation.

And of course, once Dean mentions their father, Sam starts calming down. NOT when Dean says that he’s barely holding it together, or that he only has them. Just when he mentions their father who is, in Sam’s mind, the one who can help him get revenge.

The fight ends, but Sam never once apologizes for what he said to Dean, nor for the fight. Which, by the way, contradicts his claim that Dean “always has his back”.

Emotional Violence

Whenever we have John on an episode, we’re going to have to talk about emotional violence and I kind of hate that because on one hand, I get how John could’ve been a very tragic figure that loved his sons but still wanted to avenge his wife, and not being the abusive bastard we know and don’t love that much.

When Sam and Dean explain about Sam’s visions, and how they started as nightmares but have grown in intensity, his reaction is quite subdued, but clear. He is not happy, but the problem isn’t the visions –for a man obsessed with the supernatural, his outward reaction to his younger son being a psychic is quite calm- but that they didn’t inform him of what was going on:

JOHN All right. When were you going to tell me about this?

DEAN We didn't know what it meant.

JOHN All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me.

DEAN dumps the coffee jug and cup back on the counter and strides toward JOHN.

DEAN Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad I called you from Lawrence all right? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.

JOHN You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry.

And let’s be clear, John’s anger is not directed at Sam, it’s directed at Dean. “Something like this starts happening to your brother” is not “Something like this starts happening to either of you”. Which is also a show of how good an actor JOHN is in universe because WE know that he knew. Missouri TOLD him point blank that Sam was powerful and that he could have known that John was around during the Home episode. But here, he acts as if this was news to him when he could ALSO have told them what to expect if that happened. (Mind you, I am assuming that Sera Gamble knew or remembered about Home’s script when writing this and didn’t just forget or was unaware that John was supposed to know)

Now, all season, Sam has been complaining and yelling about how John doesn’t answer their calls, doesn’t seem to care what’s going on with them. So it’d be logical and in character for Sam to say something here. But instead is DEAN, Dad’s little soldier, the one we’ve SEEN obeying John without question finally have enough and talk back to his father with some truths. And it’s VERY interesting that his first complain is not that John didn’t care that Dean almost died, but that he didn’t reply when Dean called from Lawrence. One could almost infer that Dean expected John not to care if Dean died, but was honestly hurt that he didn’t care about a case that could’ve involved MARY.

John, surprisingly, sort of agrees. He does say “I’m sorry”, which makes him the Winchester who is quicker to say those words… but he still manages to make a threat against Dean “I am not too crazy about this NEW tone of yours”.

Making it clear that before? Dean never talked back. And John doesn’t like it when his soldiers talk back.

It makes it hard to believe John ever thought of Dean as his son and makes it very clear why Dean never understood Sam’s confidence that Dean was the favored one.

Speeches and Apologies

I considered not including this particular speech, but then I remembered that Supernatural is ALSO famous for their big emotional speeches, and this is Sam’s first, and also, Dean’s first time listening to someone he cares about give him the “I am saying goodbye because I am going kamikaze” speech and after all the drama in season 15, I guess it’s necessary to do some dissection.

It is important that despite all the things that Sam has done to Dean, the words “I’m sorry” are never uttered here.

SAM Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. DEAN For what? SAM For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And ah...I don't know I just wanted to let you know, Just in case DEAN Whoa whoa whoa, are you kidding me? SAM What? DEAN Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?

This is not a bad “freaking speech”. I understand why Dean didn’t want to hear it, because it is like jinxing the mission (And, let’s be honest, it did), but it’s not a bad speech.

Except that, reading it again, it lacks one important part. Sure, Sam thanks Dean for always being there (Forgetting that, at least three times this season alone, he has accused Dean of not having his back and being unreliable. Which will ALSO be a constant theme in the series’s long run), but he never mentions the times HE did things that would be hard to back up. Which, again, I am not counting as a bad thing against him in this precise moment in time, since he is young, in his roaring roadtrip of revenge, and we’ve only know the brothers for a year, but it is the beginning of a series’ long crutch to make us forgive all of Sam’s sins without him actually doing the work to be forgiven.

On the other hand, it all goes to waste a bit later when Sam starts hitting Dean for the horrible sin of not letting him run into a burning building and kill himself so… it’s not really a “thank you for having my back” speech but a “You better remember, you never fight me and my choices are the best” speech in hindsight. Which… not good on Sam, no.

Double narrative standards

This episode is kind of balanced, except for that little moment where we’re supposed to think Dean is wrong for telling Sam that revenge is not worth their lives. So there’s not much to write in this particular segment.

Final Tally

Ok, back in the saddle. And after all that, I decided not to tally Sam’s little slip about not caring if their loved ones die as long as he gets to kill Azazael. Let me know if you disagree.

The count is still not good on Sam’s side, but as always, you are free to disagree with me, and dm me if you think I missed a tally or I should change one. If your argument is solid and canon based, I will listen to it and may change the numbers.

Numbers (or the TL;DR summary)

(Episode/Total so far)

Times Dean has lied to Sam or to a loved one: 0 / 0

Times Sam has lied to Dean or to a loved one: 0 / 3

Times Dean has been caught in a lie: 0 / 0

Times Sam has been caught in a lie: 0 / 1

Times Dean has hit Sam in anger: 0 / 1

Times Sam has hit Dean in anger: 1 / 4

Times Dean's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 0

Times Sam's lies or secrets have caused someone's death: 0 / 1

Times Dean has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 0

Times Sam has abandoned (Or wanted to abandon) a hunt in the middle for his own needs: 0 / 7

Times Dean forced Sam to do something: 0 / 0

Times Sam forced Dean to do something: 0 / 7

Secrets kept by Dean: 0 / 1

Secrets kept by Sam: 0 / 2

Times Dean has blamed Sam for something: 0 / 0

Times Sam has blamed Dean for something: 1 / 4

Times Dean has apologized with words to Sam: 0 / 3

Times Sam has apologized with words to Dean: 0 / 2

Times Dean has respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 7

Times Sam has respected Dean's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0

Times Dean hasn't respected Sam's boundaries and/or rules: 0 / 0

Times Sam hasn't respected Dean's boundaries and / or rules: 0 / 13

Times Dean has made fun of something Sam does or has: 0 / 6

Times Sam has made fun of something Dean does or has: 0 / 31

Times we focus on Dean's needs: 0 / 1

Times we focus on Sam's needs: 1 / 6

Arc episodes dedicated to Sam: 1 / 7

Filler episodes dedicated to Sam: 0 / 6

Arc episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 0

Filler episodes dedicated to Dean: 0 / 4

Arc episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2

Filler episodes dedicated to both brothers (or to none): 0 / 2

Dean's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 1

Sam's Dropped Plotlines: 0 / 2

#Supernatural rewatch project #Salvation #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #not very Sam positive #John Winchester #Season 1 #Season 1 episode 20 #SPN #Supernatural meta

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wrctings · 4 years

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Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes | Let your heart be light

fandom: Marvel Univers characters: Pre-serum Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes summary: Where Steve and his mom spend Christmas Eve’s at the Barnes’s, Bucky takes a nap and Steve draws him. word count: 1.7k

writing a christmas one shot in february isn’t too late, right? i missed 30s steve and buck so of course i had to write some fluff <3

New York City, Christmas 1935

When the two boys slid their shivering frames through the doorway, shaking off the snowflakes caught in their hair and coats as they took the latter off, the first thing to welcome them was the delicious waft of food which had enveloped the entire apartment, the perky jingling of cutlery that emanated from the kitchen accounting for the fact that an active cooking activity was indeed taking place in there. Their cheeks rosy from the piercing cold and their breath short from having spent the afternoon out in the snow, they untied their shoes, leaving them in the corridor, and proceeded to the living room, where the warmth radiating off the crackling fireplace eased the prickling of their skin at once.

“Mom, we’re back!” Bucky announced, heading for the kitchen, Steve in his wake. “How are you? It smells so good in here!”

“We were wondering when you boys would come back and give us a hand,” Mrs Barnes gave them a smile, shaking her head. “It’s all fine. We should always make joined Christmas dinners, it’s a lot less exhausting than doing it yourself for the whole family,” she added gratefully, glancing at Sarah, who nodded in approval.

“Are you okay darling?” The blond woman caringly asked Steve, who reassured her with a light-hearted nod.

“If there’s anything we can do, we’ll be glad to help,” he then assured voluntarily, earning an affectionate look from the two women.

“Actually, I have a feeling you’ll cause more trouble than anything…” One of Bucky’s sisters retorted humorously.

“That may not be wrong…,” the brunet boy conceded sheepishly, eyeing all the culinary supplies suspiciously.

“Maybe you could dress the table, how about that?” Mrs Barnes proposed an alternative. “It’s a little too early now, but we’ll call you when it’s the right time. For the time being, why don’t you go put some records on?”

“Sure!”

“Steve, stay close to the fireplace!” The other boy’s mom called after her son as Bucky and Steve took off, shaking her head fondly as the blond promised that she didn’t have to worry (although he had barely recovered from a cold). “Kids…” Sarah muttered, sharing a knowing glance with Winnifred, who could only chuckle. “But at least they look after one another.”

“Thank God,” the brunette woman laughed, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder whether that causes less or more trouble.”

Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky set to complete the task that they had been asked to undertake. Rummaging through the music collection of the Barnes with great care, Steve selected a record which Bucky then placed upon the turntable, sparking up the soft whirring of the record player while he was cautiously manipulating the needle. A few seconds later, the merry tune of a Christmas song erupted from the device, taking over the far-off clattering and voices coming from the kitchen with smooth notes of jazz that swirled through the room.

“There we go,” a satisfied smile played upon Bucky’s lips, the young man letting himself tumble on the nearby couch with a deep sigh. “I feel like I could take a nap just now…,” he breathed out, lazily stretching out his arms while letting his head fall backwards against the backrest.

“Tired already?” Steve raised a daring eyebrow, teasing his friend with his usual playfulness.

“Shut up,” without even looking, Bucky grabbed a pillow and threw it toward the other boy’s voice, but missed the target. “How the hell do you still have energy?”

“I don’t, I just pretend,” the blond actually confessed, shrugging as he laughed. He never had to play pretend with Bucky, who always accepted him the way he was, no matter whether he caught Steve on a painful day of suffering from sickness, had to come to his rescue in a fight or simply met with him to hang out. Plus, his best friend had seen him in dire straits one too many times to unnecessarily play tough. “Alright, you take a nap, I’ll get my sketchbook.”

“Wake me up if I happen to actually drift off,” Bucky mumbled, momentarily straightening up just so he could cuddle up to the cushion set in the corner where the armrest and the backrest formed an angle. Through half-closed eyelids, he noticed Steve taking a seat on the floor and flick through the pages of his sketchbook, the flames happily waltzing in the chimney behind him sending glimmering beams across the young man’s shirt and skin, their reflection playing in the golden strands of hair that brushed his forehead as he craned his neck, concentrated on his sketch.

Lulled by the gay rhythm of the music and the regular, soft sound of his friend’s pen scraping a piece of paper, Bucky feared that he in truth might just doze off, the both peaceful and jolly atmosphere of the room exacerbating his body’s will to rest. However, there was no way he was going to leave Steve alone on Christmas evening, especially since they spent it together this year, so Bucky fought sleepiness back by trying to keep his mind awake. Just a few minutes, he told himself, I’ll rest for a little bit, then I’ll be ready to celebrate.

Since the early December evening had already dawned, the room would’ve been bathed in darkness if not for the chirping chimney and the bright lights that had been turned on, making it easier for Bucky not to let his thoughts succumb to the strain of his body. He wondered whether his family would like the gifts he got them, but especially if Steve would — since Bucky had more money, he always tried to get his friend a present that he would be particularly fond of for Christmas, and he knew that Steve would also do his best to offer him something nice in return, though with more limited means. But most importantly, Bucky was merely glad and excited to spend the 24th of December surrounded by everyone he loved most, especially since Steve and his mother were joining them around the table this year. In the end, gifts mattered little.

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?” Running a hand over his face, Bucky groaned while blinking several times, struggling to adjust his clouded sight to the lighting of the living room. It turned out that keeping oneself awake was quite a difficult task, even when one might tell themselves that their lively thoughts would keep their distracted from the lure of slumber. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry Buck, it’s only been fifteen minutes,” Steve reassured him distractedly, still hunched over his drawing. “It’s nearly seven.”

Pushing himself away from the armrest of the couch, Bucky’s fingers tangled in his hair as he tried to make it sit properly, pushing loose brown strands off his forehead. Only fifteen minutes, that was acceptable. He yawned into the back of his hand, stretching his back, then swung his legs onto the floor and bent forward, trying to get a glimpse of Steve’s doodles — his gaze landed on the outline of a sofa, on which he recognised his own silhouette.

“You know I’m gonna become famous too if you do, right? I’m your number one drawing reference, at this point.” He joked, but the soft glow of his eyes, from either remnants of sleepiness or fondness, made it seem like he was actually both touched and impressed.

“It’s not my fault if you fall asleep on my watch. What do you want me to do? For once, something stays still while I’m sketching, I gotta make most of it.”

It took Steve another few minutes to come to end of his sketch of a sleepy Bucky, fixing the shadows playing in the folds of his friend’s clothes as his pencil adroitly glided across the paper. Bucky, still towering over the blond, kept on watching him draw above Steve’s shoulder, having always been fasciated by the way his friend could so beautifully make images come to life out of nothingness — no matter how much the other boy would get frustrated over a doodle that he struggled with, Bucky knew that it would still be infinitely better than anything most people could come up with. Seeing the curves and edges of his own body forming such meticulous shapes under Steve’s fingertips, the brunet felt like he had caught his own self plunged in a slumber; as if time had turned back to just minutes ago, and he could witness his reflection laying on the couch.

“Alright.” After one last stroke of a pen, Steve held the sketchbook up, analysing the outcome. Bucky could tell that he wasn’t disappointed with the result as the young man put it back down, not getting another hold of his pencil either. “You’re not still sleepy, are you?” He then turned around to give Bucky a quick smile, emerging out of the state of concentration that had taken over him while he was drawing.

“No, I’m not. It’s time for celebration now!” His friend retorted energetically, alluding to the festive Christmas tree that had been set in a corner of the room, the few colourful decorations tangled up in its branches and the golden star at its top gleaming as light ricocheted off them.

With a brief glance at the window, Bucky noticed that the snowfall had grown even stronger, thick and fluffy snowflakes coating the entire street and delicate flowers of frost already starting to spring upon the panes, adorning them with whimsical motives.

“Boys!”

Before Steve and Bucky had time to do anything else, Mrs Barnes’s voice reached them from the kitchen, rising above the music that had continued playing.

“Boys, come and set the table!”

“On it!” Her son shouted back, not a single trouble weighing his heart down as the only think he could focus on was this special night, full of the joy and warmth of sharing it with all the people dearest to him. “Shall we?” He took a look at Steve, unable to suppress a wholesome smile that he just couldn’t contain. And he didn’t want to.

“We shall,” his friend agreed, smiling back. “First to get to the kitchen wins?” and, before Bucky could answer, the blond was off.

“Steve, you have asthma!” was all that Bucky could yell after him, laughing as he trailed behind, however catching up fast.

“But I’m winning!”

A very merry Christmas indeed.

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drreidfics · 4 years

Text

Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt1.

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

Here I am again, on the floor, begging him to stop. There he is again, laughing at my pleas and forcing himself inside of me. Almost every night he climbs into my bed, then in the morning, he pretends everything is normal. When anyone is around, he acts charming. He is able to trick everyone into thinking everything is fine. Well, it's not.

My phone buzzed to life at the side of me. The alarm was going off but I had been up for hours, staring at the flecks of dust dancing around the air. The sunlight streamed in through my thin, white drapes. It was beautiful out. It was the middle of May and bound to be hot out in Arizona. I could feel the warmth on my skin already. I needed to shower and get all this sticky sweat off my skin. It wasn't even mine. I felt disgusting. His touch lingered everywhere on me. The bruises he gave me stained my skin more than the self inflicted cuts.

'Morning Ms. y/l/n. Last night was lovely. See you at lunch?'. It was a text from Mr Reid. He was my psychology professor. Older than me, at thirty, he had long dark hair and deep brown eyes. His hair curled slightly at the end. He was tall and slim. Smart and nerdy, having two degrees and a doctorate, he left his job at the FBI for something less mentally draining. He had worked there since he was twenty-two. I was twenty-one making our age gap quite small. Look at me, trying to convince myself that it even mattered. He was a lovely guy. Friendly, and handsome. He wouldn't fall in love with a student, and if he did, that student would never be me. He was too smart for that.

"Morning Dr. Reid. Thank-you for taking me. It was a fun eve! Yes, see you at lunch. We can have a chat about the stuff we saw yesterday =)". I read the message over and over again before hitting send. I was nervous as I usually always say stupid things. My low self esteem affected me very much. I was twenty-one, already with one degree and going back to do another. I was still living at Sharon's and I haven't had a boyfriend. He texted me back instantly.

"Can't wait! Need a lift to school? =)" I smiled down at my battered iPhone 6. I couldn't afford a brand new phone. I was lucky in that I only had to work a few hours a week at the local book store and that it was something I enjoyed doing. Sharon was good to me. She helped me pay for and make my way through college. I don't know what or where I would be without her. On the other hand, she brought the human spawn of the devil into my life.

"No thnx, Luna is picking me up =)" I sent but then instantly regretted it. I love my best friend but I would have preferred a ride with Dr. Reid. Our conversations were always interesting and insightful. We could talk about a wide range of subjects for hours and it would only feel like minutes passed.

"Ok, see u soon Y/N"

I smiled, almost forgetting my problems before catching glimpse of myself in the mirror. My fragile, battered body stared back. I sighed. He could never find a girl like me attractive. Not that it mattered anyway. Silly little girl crush.

After debating whether it was best to just find the nearest bridge in town and throw my self off or get ready for school (I am very mentally unwell), I decided on the latter. Luna had already texted me to inform me that she was about to set off. Knowing Luna, which I have had the pleasure of knowing for fifteen years (no sarcasm in there), ten minutes would be ten years.

I staggered down the dreaded stairs, almost losing my footing a few times, feeling light headed. I entered the brightly lit kitchen. It was so bright that I could feel an aching behind my eyes. The decor was simplistic, all white with gold features. Classic business mom who is never home asthetic going on.

Sharon sat at the island, face absorbed in her laptop. She was in her late forties with short, mousey hair. I believe she would be referred to as a 'Karen'. She looked nothing like Dom. She was short, like me, and fairly slim. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders. Quarterback star player with the strength to show for it. He could snap us both in half. Dominic is Sharon's only child. Yes, that is correct. She is not my mum. I lost her.

Sharon looked up at me, flashing me a warm smile, still bashing the keys to her MacBook. She took a sip of her black coffee, nibbling on some cold toast. "You look like shit" she stated; matter of factly, her face blank. '"Thanks?'" I answered with a raised eyebrow. I walked over to the coffee machine and put in a pod, sticking my travel cup underneath. 77Kcals of goodness. All the fuel I will need this morning. "Sweetheart, don't act like that. You know I'm just saying. You need to sleep more" '"I know" I sighed. It was true... "But that makes two of us" I retorted cheekily with a grin. "Oh sweetheart, don't I know it" she raised her cup as if toasting the comment before gulping the last bit of coffee.

Sharon was my guardian, though not anymore as I was an adult and of drinking age. She still cared for me though as if I were her own. My mom died when I was seven and my dad had a breakdown. He couldn't cope. One day I came home from school and he was gone. He didn't say a word to anyone. He packed up his stuff and left me. I hated him for a while. The anger within me burned to my core. After a while I felt sympathy. He didn't get the help that he needed. If he did then we both wouldn't be in this mess. We'd be happy - together. I doubt he would know how to contact me now.

Aunt Sharon took me in. She wasn't really my aunt, she was my mom's best friend. She was the only connection to my mother that I had left besides her wedding ring. She loved her dearly and I believe she loves me dearly too. It's not her fault she can't protect me. She works herself to death trying to help me live my dreams. Dom wasn't the child that she had always wanted. He is doing nothing with his life. That is something I will alway's respect of her, single mom raising her child and somebody else's.

I loved her, though she did have the tendency to dish out tough love which often was way - way too harsh. And she was always away leaving me with him. I knew that if I'd only just tell her what he was capable of... What he would do to me when she left... She'd have murdered him herself with her bare hands. But it would kill her. I couldn't do that to her. He was the only thing she had who was blood. Me, I had no-one.

"shit! Is that the time? I'm going to be late. I gotta go, honey. Say bye to Dom for me." she pleaded as she stuffed the last slice of toast in her mouth and gathered her briefcase and her keys. " ...And make sure you have something to eat. You're wasting away!" "Have a good day at work Shaz" I shouted after her. I doubt that she heard me. She was out the door in seconds, jangling her keys and fighting between speaking with me and the ringtone on her work mobile. I heard her professional, scripted 'Hello, Sharon Cormack speaking' as the door slammed behind her.

I made my way through the spotless kitchen Gina, Sharon's housekeeper, always did a good job. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the integrated refrigerator. I also grabbed my iced latte from the coffee machine. It was almost half eight. My first classes start at nine and Luna still wasn't anywhere in sight. I scrambled through my purse for my phone, ready to give her a piece of my mind. That girl would be late to her own funeral.

"You're up early" a voice from behind me sneered. It took all my might to not to curl up in a ball, trembling.

"I... I have school"

No reply. I felt him creeping up behind me, felt his breath against my neck.

"I can think of something much better to do with the day baby" he whispered as he planted acid kisses on my neck. It burned. I squeezed my eyes shut, putting my hands up defensively. He pushed my back into the counter. A sharp pain ran though me.

"Please stop. I have to go" I whispered as his hand snaked its way up my neck, fist knotting tightly in my hair.

'"Why do you think a whore like you has the right to tell me what to do, hm?"

'- Hello? Katy?' Luna's smooth voice called out in sing song.

Oh, thank god for her and her timing. He released me from his grasp and increased the distance between us. His eyes were clouded. I could tell he was pissed. I brushed passed him, running towards Luna, who was standing by the open door. I ran straight into her arms hugging her tightly.

"I thought you'd never show." I whispered. She rested her chin on my shoulder, stroking my hair. I could tell that she was staring daggers at Dom and I could tell he didn't care. Like I said, the same routine. Every morning.

By the time lunch rolled around I had had enough. had gotten into a lot of trouble with Ms. Hallows over an overdue assignment and I had spilt water all down the front of my jeans. It looked like I had pissed myself. My saving grace is that they were dark jeans and so it wasn't too noticable. That didn't stop Georgie from laughing and calling me pissy pants for half the day.

Georgie was the kind of girl that you would avoid in high school. Everybody wanted to be her but everyone hated her so bad. She had golden brunette locks, a slim face and a petite nose. Her friends Nova and Ari were just as bad. Everyone used to tell you that when you left high school things would be different. I am sorry to inform you that they don't. Bullies stay bullies forever.

I forced my way through the groups of students, crowded together in the corridors. The last thing I wanted was to be late for my chat with Mr. Reid

"Y/N" I heard Luna calling after me. I could tell that she was chasing me through the crowd of students. "Y/N. Look, Y/N stop." I rolled my eyes.

"What?" I snapped. I could see the hurt in her eyes. She leaned on the wall, panting. I sighed. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?" I asked. I felt bad for snapping at her. All she wanted was answers, like anyone would have after walking in on what she did. But I don't give answers. I shut down. I don't tell anyone anything. She tried talking once we got in the car. I ignored her and I ran once we'd arrived at school. She didn't even need to speak. I could just tell what she wanted to talk about from the look on her face. I sighed again.

"Luna, I can't talk about this right now." I saw the hurt in her eyes. If I kept pushing her away then eventually she wouldn't fight to stay. 'Good', a small voice whispered in my head. Maybe that would be for the best. She deserves better. Everyone does. I could just end my life today and nobody would care. I used to fight hard against the suicidal ideations that entered my mind but now I didn't see the point.

"I have my meeting and I can't be late. Taco Bell after classes?" I asked. To my relief, she smiled and nodded, that beautiful smile that I loved so much. She was so easy to please. I smiled and walked away towards room 1980. Dr. Reid's office.

"I love you!" she shouted after me smiling.

"I love you more!"

"Lesbians" Georgie mocked. She was stood near the bathrooms. I rolled my eyes.

"Grow up"

Luna was gay but we weren't together. We had been intimate a few times but nothing had come of it. But so what if it had? We both agreed it felt weird as we had known each other as friends for so long. We didn't want to ruin anything. Luna and I had been friends ever since she opened up my juice box for me in kindergarten and then hit the girl who had stolen my straw. We had been inseparable ever since. She's been with me through thick and thin. I'd hate to think where I'd have been if she hadn't been there when my mom had died. We are and will alway's be the best of friends. In another life I could see us growing old together, adopting puppies and children but sometimes, it doesn't work out. And if you love someone, you have to let them go.

I opened the door to 1980 and as soon as I did my heart fluttered in my chest. There he was, as beautiful as ever. He looked up from the book he was reading, glasses perched on his nose and smiled, he seemed glad to see me.

"Sweetie!" he said, a smile spreading across his gorgeous lips. He's the only person who calls me that.

"Dr. Reid" I smiled back. My smile was huge and I probably looked so dorky but I don't care. My day just got brighter. I pulled up a chair next to him and kicked my feet up onto his lap. He rested his hand on my calf.

"So what did you think to the book?"

#drreid #spencer x reader #spencerreid #spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid story #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #mature #fic #reader x spencer reid #wattpad #wattpad fanfic #teacher x student #college professor smut #professor x student #professor x reader #teacher x reader

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keijikunn · 4 years

Text

Memories ─ part ii

── A @celestialarchiveshq collab “Connected by fate”

Pairing: Semi Eita x fem!reader Tags: college!au, kinda angst i guess, fluff, SLOW BURN, maybe strangers to lovers!au Summary: On the last day of the year, you dream of your soulmate’s most impactant memory that happened within the year. Each memory will be different each year. Word count: ~5.4k

Author’s note: Second part is up guys! Hope you all enjoy it, and please let me know what you're thinking so far! Reblogs are appreciated <3

WARNINGS: insecurity, mention of injury (it’s a broken arm), self-esteem issues, let me know if I forgot anything

MEMORIES’ MASTERLIST

2005 (age of 11)

The gymnasium was filled with the sound of the sneakers against the hard wooden floor, constant screams of “left!”, “right!”, “block!” and occasional cheerings when someone scored a point. Your soulmate was excited for practice as usual, the love he felt towards volleyball was huge, and the bubbling sensation on his stomach gave away he was excited for something.

“Boys, gather up!” The coach called the team near the benches, everyone sitting on the floor in front of the man. “It’s time to announce which positions you’ll play for the next season, and possibly for the rest of your middle school years.”

A list of names got called, the younger ones assigned to variate between a couple of positions; the older ones were mostly spikers or middle blockers. With naive eyes, being able to score points for the team was euphoric, as if the weight of the world was on their shoulders. Your soulmate waited restlessly, a part of his mind wandering on his arduous training, trying his best to achieve his dream position in the team.

He called his name, eyes quickly to find his coach’s face. “You’ll be the on the start lineup as setter.”

Your soulmate gasped, his lips quickly turning upwards as he smiled in ecstasy. His close friends lightly punched his back and arms, congratulating his hard work. All the boy could think was his father’s words about how your efforts are paid back, just like his guitar classes. He thought about the countless practices he tried his best to improve, asking tips to his coaches and seniors, tossing a ball against his bedroom wall - only to hear Aime complain about it during dinner.

It felt good, amazing even. He understood the concept of working hard perfectly, after experiencing it twice. Something inside him made himself feel unstoppable, as long as he has his determination to do better, he could achieve every and anything he ever dreamed about. Your soulmate had never felt such proudness of himself before, and he had every reason to feel like it.

2006 (age of 12)

Semi’s relationship with his relatives was good, all his uncles and aunts were nice to him, his older cousins never really bothered him and the younger ones were funny to play tag games. However, the boy wasn’t excused of having a certain degree of dislike towards his same-age cousin Touma. Being born in the same year was great when they were little, playdates worked well and they’d always make each other’s company during boring adults reunion.

Things started to change once they got older and started elementary school. Touma was constantly praised in his school, claimed as the best student in his year, with almost perfect scores and impeccable participation in events. Semi used to be happy for his cousin, but the feeling changed once the other started to brag about himself, belittling Semi’s achievements and efforts.

After that, their relationship was never the same, and both of them knew it. The thing was that their mothers weren’t aware of the sudden change of affection between them, resulting in regular Sunday lunches over their place. It was uncomfortable the silence between them, the pair sitting on opposite ends of the large sofa, doing their best to ignore the other’s presence.

“Aunt!” Touma called Semi’s mother, a too innocent smile on his face. “Did mom tell you that I’m the best student in my school? And the teachers want to subscribe me in a Math competition?”

“That’s great to hear, Touma-kun! You’re really smart!” His mother cheered way too excited, Semi noted, and the boy tried to recall every time he had big news to tell if his mom praised him like she did with his cousin.

“Even the director talked to me about changing a few classes, saying Touma is capable of attending advanced classes.” His aunt gushed with pride. “And he’s even the best player in the soccer team!”

“Wow, Touma, you’re really amazing!” Semi was undeniably jealous at how easily his mother complimented someone who wasn’t her own son. He was furious at her, at Touma, but especially at himself for not doing better to receive the same praises.

“I’m naturally good, aunt! I don’t have to study or practice more to improve.” His cousin stated, sending Semi and side look in a provocative way, like inciting him to fight back. “And what about Eita-kun?”

“Eita always tries his best in volleyball and guitar practices,” his mom started, fidgeting with the cloth she used to dry the washed plates. “He’s a hardworking boy, right, Eita?”

“Yeah…” he muttered in response, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. Did his mother lie to him about working hard on what you love? To earn her compliments he should be a genius, be born good at that thing and that’s that?

The rage inside him was replaced by disappointment, even sadness. His parents lied to him just to make him happy because he was their son, it was their obligation to hype their children even if they weren’t that happy. Semi wondered if his mother would’ve lied to Touma if he was her son - and the answer came quite easily: she wouldn’t, because she had no reason to do so.

At that moment, everything he believed started to fall apart. His concept of being good, of worth of praise and recognition. Years of proudness were thrown away in mere seconds, a mentality Semi built to face every challenge destroyed in the worst way possible: by his own mother.

I bet mom wanted a son like Touma, she’d replace me easily.

I’m not good enough, am I?

The following days after the first rehearsal you had with the band, you and Semi met up more often to talk about your project, what you have so far and what do you wanted from him. Although Semi didn’t spare snarky comments towards you, he was cooperative and even suggested a thing or two.

“So, what’s the lyrics?” Semi asked, both of you were in a small café near the campus. His long and slim fingers tapped the wooden table, while his left - and injured - arm rested near his body.

“Well,” you started, offering a sheepelesly smile. “It’s your story, you should write it.”

“It’s your project, Y/n.” He tried to correct you, closing tightly his jaw in annoyance. Overall it was quite easy to read the singer’s body language, it being more expressive than his words.

“My project is to produce a song - which I’ll do when you come up with the lyrics.” The man didn’t seem to be convinced, but either way let out a long sigh, bothered by the situation. “Whatever you want to tell the world, any suppressed feelings, I’m all ears to your ideas.”

Semi visibly was taken aback at your choice of wording, mouth slightly slacking and his brown pupils quivered as he lowered his gaze to the table. You knew it was rather dangerous to suggest something like that, giving the fact he resisted for a while before agreeing to help you. On the other hand, though, it was your only chance to get what you really wanted: a song filled with the deepest and rawest emotions.

Much like your soulmate, the man in front of you closed himself from the others. The last 10 years, you dreamed about a very hard tempered, isolated and hurt boy and you didn’t truly understand those feelings. Semi, in your judgment (that you acknowledged could be completely wrong), gave off the impression he might understand him. Perhaps through Semi, you would be able to comfort your soulmate, because regardless of his belief or not in being destined together, you needed to do anything to sooth his doubts.

“Semi-san?” A male voice broke the silence you two fell into without noticing, lifting you head, you saw a rather tall guy standing by the side of your table. He sported a sharp and uneven haircut alongside with a tired expression, though his eyes were wide opened in surprise.

“Oh, Shirabu.” Semi breathed out the name, also surprised by the sudden encounter. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” the awkwardness between them made you fidget in your seat, averting your eyes from them to look straight into your cup of coffee. “How- how are you doing?”

“Fine, actually- and you? Heard you were accepted in med school,” the singer commented. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, uh- Y/n, this is Shirabu.” Semi introduced you two as you briefly exchanged a polite ‘hello’, a bit awkward by the situation. “We used to play in the same volleyball team during high school.”

“Oh, nice.” You reacted slightly rushed, the tension between the two previous teammates was growing as the seconds passed by. “Was Semi a good teammate? I’m playing support in his band and I can say he’s quite demanding.”

“Yes!” Shirabu exclaimed quickly, his nervousness showing off. “Semi-san was a good teammate and a respectful senpai.”

“Though you respected Wakatoshi the most, right?” Though you presumed Semi said that to joke around his underclassman, at some instance you felt bitterness hidden behind the playful comment. He laughed half-heartedly as Shirabu panicked to give him a proper answer. “I’m joking, relax.”

“I have to go, actually,” the younger man stated, offering the two of you an apologetic smile. “I have another period to attend… Anyways, it was nice to meet you, Semi-san, Y/n-san. Bye!”

“Take care!”

“Bye.”

Semi relaxed his whole body after hearing the front door close, running his right hand through the ash locks of his hair. You observed him shift on the chair, too immersed inside his own thoughts to notice your analytical gaze on him.

“Do you mind me asking why you look so shaken up?” Your voice was soft and lower, as if the choice of volume would prevent Semi from getting angry at you.

“He used to play in the same position as me.” Based on the few knowledge you had about volleyball, you assumed it was possible for two players to share the same role in the team, so you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “We both were setters, he took my place on the start lineup.”

2011 (age of 17)

The third years arrived late at practice and the coach, even though knowing they had extra classes, screamed at them to change quickly. Unphased by the outburst, Ushijima, Tendou, Semi, Reon and Yamagata did as they were told so in order to start the warm ups. Each one of them took their position on the court, ready to practice their main abilities; however, Washijo called out Semi and Shirabu to the sidelines, a serious expression on the older’s face.

“Semi, I’d like you to focus on your serves from now on.”

“What- why, coach?” Semi asked surprised, closing his hand into fists angrily.

“Shirabu will be the main setter of the team.” Washijo stated, and for a moment the world has stopped moving in Semi’s perspective. “You’ll be the pinch server.”

“It’s not fair, coach! I’m-” the words died in the boy’s throat, giving up on arguing with him. Throughout the years he’s been trained by Washijo, Semi knew his decisions were made to improve the team’s strength and chances to win. Nothing would make the coach change his mind. “I understood.”

He bowed to Washijo and Shirabu before turning back to head to the end of the court, getting closer to those who were practicing their serves. Semi took a ball from the cart, smacking it to hit the floor a couple of times before tossing it into the air to serve. On the other side of the net, the ball landed near the fifth position, but the thought of scoring a service ace didn’t soothe the burning rage inside of him.

Once again Semi was told right in front of him that he’s not good enough, he wasn’t needed on the court to articulate all the offensives against the opponent team. Of all people. He was subbed by an underclassmen. Semi Eita, a famous setter during middle school, who was accepted at Shiratorizawa through a sports scholarship.

Angry tears stung his eyes, but he refused to let them slip through his eyelids. No, Semi was too proud to let anyone see how frustrated he was; he wouldn’t give Shirabu the satisfaction to see him break down, even though his junior could not think like that.

Years of hard working, training every single day to improve his tosses, every time he bent his fingers during practices. All for nothing. Semi felt stupid thinking that it would be enough, he should have learned years before with Touma. Efforts don’t take you anywhere if you’re not a genius. He should have known better.

Serve after serve landed perfectly in spots other teams’ defense would break: between the first, sixth and fifth position; so close to the sidelines some players would think it would be out, just to be surprised by the referee pointing the flag to the ground. However, it wasn’t enough, not for Semi. At that moment, no service ace would make up the thrilling sensation of setting the perfect ball that leads the team one point closer to the victory.

It was unfair how he was subbed during his third and last year in that team, after that season he would retire from the club’s activities and solely focus on university entrance exams. Washijo should know how he feels, especially because the coach himself couldn’t play because of his height. So why has he done that?

His gaze unconsciously fell over the main court, where the spikers were practicing with Shirabu. Semi desperately searched for any fault in the setter’s tosses, in his posture and even in his movements around the other players, anything to point out to the coach as an excuse for him to change his mind about the situation. What angered the boy the most was the fact Shirabu had such clean moves and a great analytical vision - he was way more competent that Semi himself in the matter of technique.

What took the biggest toll on him, though, was seeing Ushijima and Reon hitting every toss with such ease and power. Their performance was better than when Semi was the official setter, he couldn’t recall any practice or game both spikers were surpassing their usually good performance. That made everything clear to Semi: he couldn’t bring the best of his teammates as a setter, he wasn’t skilled enough to help his team on every offensive. He had to accept it.

There will always be someone better than me, Semi thought to himself, panting from tiredness. I’ll never be the first option for anything, I should have known that.

You’re pathetic, Semi Eita.

End of October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

To say you were nervous was a understandment, you’ve never performed in a live house before - and it definitely wasn’t like school presentations, as you tried to convince yourself. The fact that those people in front of the stage weren't there to actually see you helped a bit to calm down your nerves, though not enough to prevent your hands from shaking.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually nervous, Y/n.” Semi teased you, earning a whine from you. The singer was relaxed - it would surprise you if he weren’t - with his arms crossed over his chest, carefully enough to put his right one over the other. He was looking good, you admitted to yourself, with black jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather black jacket. “You’re a music producer, you shouldn’t be afraid of the audience.”

“Firstly, I’m not a music producer,” you started angrily, narrowing your eyes at him. “And secondly, that’s why I chose to learn how to produce songs, because I won’t perform them.”

“You can either focus on a dot ahead of you, ignoring all eyes looking to the stage or,” he stepped closer to you, bending down a little so his mouth reached closer to your ear. “You can just look at me.”

You stepped back in surprise, feeling your cheeks heat with the exaggerated flow of blood through your veins. Semi laughed at your distressed expression, leaving you behind to search for his bandmates in order to prepare themselves to go on stage. You had no idea if the guy teased you on purpose or not, but it was effective: you were no longer anxious to be in front of people, but because you’d be next to Semi for at least 30 minutes.

The moment you dreaded the most arrived sooner than you thought, a staff from the live-house ushered you four to the stage. Akihiko sat behind the set of drums, positioning himself comfortably to start; Takeshi plugged the bass on the amplifier, adjusting the volume as he strummed the cords. Semi stood in the middle of the stage, pulling the microphone stand in front of him up to get it closer to his mouth. Your hands worked quickly on setting up your guitar, earning you enough time to pay attention to the audience’s noise through the closed curtains.

Before you could get lost in your own thoughts, a fixed and intense gaze on you pulled you out from overthinking. Semi’s brown eyes looked straight into yours, and somehow you felt a wave of calmness wash over you, deafening the sparse chattering around you. His lips formed a small smile, and differently from the sarcastic ones he usually offers you to mess around, it was genuine.

“You can do it, relax.” He mouthed, you barely caught the words as the staff crew announced the band and the curtains opened. Returning the smile with a nod, eyes diverting its focus to Akihiko - who beat his drumsticks four times, starting the presentation.

“Thank you so much for coming tonight!” Semi said on the microphone after the last song of the setlist, earning back a wave of screams and claps. “And special thanks to our support Y/n.”

The sudden attention you received startled you, but your response was to simply smile and bow to the public. You weren’t feeling shy at that moment, the adrenaline in your veins even made yourself enjoy the positive response from the public. As Akihiko came towards the stage and thanked everyone, the staff closed the curtains and Takeshi - who was closest to the exit - led the way out.

“You did amazing, Y/n!” Akihiko beamed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“I was so nervous, though!” You laughed with them at your answer. “But it was a good experience, I enjoyed myself out there.”

“Great, because you’re in the band for a couple more shows.” Semi announced with a smirk, only to that morph into a bigger smile. “I still have a few weeks with the cast and physiotherapy to attend… you better enjoy the spotlight, rockstar.”

All of you burst into laughter, heading to the backstage room you got ready before. The boys encountered their own friends in the process, and while you didn’t know any of them, you decided to organize your own stuff. Soon, your guitar was securely inside its case, a couple of makeup products were stored in the small bag you brought and your cellphone was stuffed in your backpocket.

“Eita-nii!” A new, and loud, voice bursted into the room. The girl - who you presumed was Semi’s sister by the honorific she used - ran towards the singer, wrapping her arms around his body. The man himself reciprocates the gesture, although shyer than her. “You and the boys were great today! Oh- and who is that girl who played support? You’ve never told me it would be a girl! I thought you’d invited Kaito.”

“Hey,” Semi said louder, looking at you. The unsaid invite to come closer made you get up from your seat in the corner and walk towards them. “Aime, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is my annoying younger sister, Aime.”

“Nii-chan!” Aime whined, quickly dismissing her brother as her attention focused solely on you. “You did so good on the stage! Eita has never told me he was friends with anyone new, let out a girl. I thought he was that antisocial that had only Akihiko and Takeshi-kun as friends.”

“I mean,” you giggled at Aime’s rambling, she was the complete opposite from her brother, which was endearing to see. “I didn’t know Semi considered me as his friends, once he thought I was hooking up with Akihiko.”

“What the hell, Semi?” The drummer jumped in the conversation, a grimace on his face. “I’d never do anything with Y/n- gosh I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Should I say you’re the stalker who would leave me alone if I sang for your project, then? I can still change the status.” Semi teased you, in response, you lightly punched his left arm. “By the way, what are you doing here Aime? Don’t you have a curfew to follow? Does mom and dad know your whereabouts?”

“I’m not ten anymore, Eita!” She let out a huff in annoyance. “I’m twenty, remember that? A college student that has every right to enjoy herself on a Friday night after a tiring week.”

You let the two siblings bicker between them, taking in that new side of the singer you’ve never imagined he’d have. The usually cold, snarky boy also had a soft spot for his sister was also the common overprotective, caring older brother. You had to admit the duality in Semi’s personas suited him, and you felt like another side of his mysteries was presented to you.

“Well, I have to get going…” you announced gathering your things up, hearing Takeshi and Akihiko’s protests. “I booked a studio early in the morning, I want to be productive, not a literal zombie going over a few samples. Not to mention the last bus will stop by soon. Thank you so much for your hard work, guys! And also, it was a pleasure to meet the better Semi, Aime.”

“I barely know you but I’m sure I’ll like you!” Aime hugged you, while Semi scoffed ironically. “Hope we meet again soon, Y/n!”

“Wait, let me grab my coat.” Semi stopped you from leaving the room after saying goodbye to both Takeshi and Akihiko. “I’ll take you to the bus stop. Who knows what could happen in the middle of the night?”

“And what will you do? Hit them with your cast?” You sassed, the man rolled his eyes, taking the small bag from your hands.

The two of you left the live-house in silence, enjoying how the loudness gradually decreased and the city noises overtook your senses. You started to feel tired from the show just now, your eyelids were heavier than usual and your shoulder muscles ache due to the tension and nervousness you were feeling. Either way, you felt good, performing was nice - though if you had to choose, being inside a studio felt much more comfortable.

“You did well today.” Semi spoke out of blue, with your peripheral vision you analysed him. His head was upwards looking to the sky, the corner of his mouth was tugged in a small smile and his posture gave off the feeling he was feeling satisfied. “You were so nervous before going on stage, but when we started, you looked like you’ve performed before. You have a talent.”

“It was the adrenaline.” Both of you laughed at your comment, silencing yourselves as you arrived at the bus stop. It was empty, which was expected given the fact it was almost one in the morning, so you took a seat next to each other. “I never imagined you were the protective older brother…”

“Trust me, you’re not the first one to tell me this,” he scoffed jokingly, a much softer expression adorned his face at the topic of his sister. “Aime is just… something else, you know? As her older brother, I think I have to shield her from being hurt - even if it means I get hurt”

“What, have you punched someone in the face because of her?” You joked, only to the laughter die on your throat at his positive response with a nod. “You’re kidding me, Semi!”

“I’m telling the truth!” He protested, a frown appearing on his face. “Some boy thought he could call my sister a bitch and leave unpunished. It was my very first fight, but as Aime’s brother, it was my job to teach that little shit a lesson.”

“Bet he punched you in the face, as well.”

“Yeah, but,” Semi stopped talking, inhaling deeply before turning to you. “You saw how she is, I- I can’t never let someone take it away from her. Nobody is allowed to hurt her like…”

“Like…” you tried to encourage him to speak after a few seconds, only for him to sigh tiredly and give you a meek smile.

“Nothing… guess it’s just the cliché older brother talk,” the way he avoided finishing his original train of thought didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you let it go to not cause further embarrassment. As the two of you entered in a comfortable silence, you saw the bus turning into the main avenue. “The princess’ carriage has arrived, my lady.”

“Thank you very much for protecting me, my knight in shining… arm cast.” You giggled at your lame joke, taking the bag from his hands. “I’ll talk to you soon… regarding the project and stuff.”

“And don’t forget we have rehearsals.” Semi reminded you, getting up from his seat. The bus stopped in front of you, the two of you stared at each other not knowing what to do. Before you could turn and hop on the vehicle, the man ruffled your hair with a mischievous smile. “Good night.”

“Good night, Semi.”

1997 (age of 3)

The white corridors seemed to be longer in Semi’s perspective, his young perception didn’t allow him to estimate how long he'd been walking with his grandparents on that floor. What buzzed in his mind was the new piece of information grandma told him before leaving the house.

“Let’s visit mommy and Aime-chan, Eita-kun.”

The boy was still confused why his mother had to go to a hospital to meet his younger sister - even though his parents had innumerous talks about this special day. Nevertheless, Semi was excited to see mom and dad after a whole day without them - and to finally see Aime.

Grandad knocked on the door, gently pushing it open so Semi could walk in. The sight of strange wires and tubes on his mother’s skin scared him, bumping into the older’s legs. Sensing his distressed expression, his father came closer to him, scooping the little kid in his arms. Semi hid his face on the crook of his dad’s neck, avoiding eye contact with the starling objects near his beloved mom.

“Eita,” her smooth voice called him, he lifted slightly his head to meet her eyes, only to hide again. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Mommy is hurt…” he whispered, pointing to all the equipment near the bed.

“No, buddy, mom is not hurt,” his dad denied, tapping lightly his back as an invitation for him to look around. “These things are making sure mommy is doing fine, she’s been pretty tired, remember we talked about it? How would Mommy feel tired after Aime left her tummy?”

An unknown whine filled the room, making Semi lift his head to search for the source of said sound. His eyes eventually fell on the tiny baby on his mother’s arms, opening and closing her mouth as little noises escaped through her thin lips.

“Aime?” Semi pointed out, suddenly feeling curious. His father sat him down next to his mother, letting him have a better view of the baby. “Aime is small!”

“Yes, she is, sweetheart.” His mother agreed softly, pulling the blanket slightly downwards so her son could see Aime’s face. “But soon she’ll grow bigger, and you two can play together. Will you share your toys with her?”

“Only if she doesn’t drool on them!” His statement made everyone laugh, but Semi couldn’t care less, too entertained with his sister. “I love Aime.”

“You have to protect her as the older brother, Eita.” His father told him, coming closer to them. Semi nodded excitedly, lowering his head to leave a kiss on Aime’s forehead.

2012 (age of 18)

All Semi could see was red as he approached Aime in front of a café. She was accompanied by her friends and some stranger boy, who was awfully close to his baby sister. The words a fellow classmate told him before they left the dorms for winter break rang through his head.

“Hey, Semi, I heard a guy from another school has been hitting on your sister for a while. My friend told me she’s pretty bothered by him.”

“Aime!” He screamed, heavy footsteps marking his way over the thin layer of snow. The said girl turned around, a mixed expression between relief and fear on her face. Stopping in front of the boy, Semi opened a bit more his chest in order to look more intimidating. “What the fuck do you want with her?”

“None of your business, dude.” His voice was coated with anger, the short phrase said between gritted teeth. “I saw this beauty first, back off.”

“And I said I’m not interested!” Aime piped in with a squeak.

“You heard her.” Semi stepped closer to him, locking eyes with the stranger. “Get lost.”

“This little slut is playing hard to get.” The world seemed to stop spinning, Semi took a second to process what that guy had the audacity to call his little sister. “I dare you to say this after I-”

He couldn’t finish his words as Semi threw the first punch right into his left cheek, knocking him to the floor. Kneeling next to him, the pinch server proceeded to get a firm grasp on the collar of his coat with the left hand, while his right one collided with the boy’s face repeatedly. Semi could hear at the back of his head people screaming at him, Aime calling out his name, but nothing would make him stop until that brat learned his lesson.

The other boy managed to get a hold of himself, punching Semi on his sides - who lost his breath and received another hit on the face. On his tongue, he felt the taste of his own blood - and he wasn’t able to distinguish where it could be from: either from his lips or the inside of his cheeks. With his knee, Semi returned the blows on his ribs, quick to sit himself on the boy’s stomach.

Every punch he gave seemed to increase its power, shifting between his nose, cheeks and mouth. Semi has never felt so enraged before, just remembering what he had called Aime made his body warm with adrenaline and wrath.

“I dare you to call my sister,” Semi muttered between huffs of air, feeling difficulty to breathe in and out due to the intense body movement and the pain on his sides. “A slut again. I fucking dare you!”

Before he could do anything else, two men held him back, making sure to wrap their hands on his arms, and lifted him up. Semi, in his last act of anger, kicked the boy laying on the floor aimlessly. The other boy was aided by another man, refusing his care to get up and look straight into Semi’s eyes.

“Watch out, asshole, I’m getting back to you.”

“Be ready to have a fucking broken nose.” Semi mocked him, and before he could continue his threats, Aime appeared in front of him with tears stained over his cheeks. “I was the one who got punched and you’re crying.”

“Are you insane!?” She asked distressingly, knocking on his chest - which made him lose his breath. “Why would you do that?”

“Isn't it obvious?” He asked, gently freeing himself from the men’s grasp. “I’m your older brother.”

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fatesdeepdive · 4 years

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Entry 1: Anticipation

Introduction

What is your most anticipated game? Not the upcoming game that you’re excited about, the game that, more than any other, made you count down the days until its release. No game has ever made me as excited for its release like Fire Emblem Fates did.

Fire Emblem Fates was first announced in January 2015. Back when that trailer was first released, I was still obsessively playing through Fire Emblem Awakening, the game Fire Emblem Fates was meant to be a successor for. The trailer hooked me and I eagerly waited for more information on this bold new entry into the Fire Emblem series. The trailer showed a battle between two armies, a monster destroying a castle, a woman dancing, and a duel between two swordsmen. Between these clips, the trailer showed a return of Awakening’s gameplay, the addictive gameplay that’d taken away hundreds of hours of my free time. This trailer told us nothing, leaving me eager to learn more about this new story.

As the months went on, it was announced that Fates would tell the story of two kingdoms at war. More interestingly, the player would be given the opportunity to choose which kingdom to support, adding a layer of moral ambiguity and complexity to the story. I loved this concept and had no doubts it would be executed perfectly. The game released in June 2015 in Japan, but American fans had to wait until January of the next year to play it.

I bought the game as soon as it came out.

And I loved it. I played through all three routes half a dozen times each. For about six months, Fire Emblem Fates was the main game I played.

I haven’t played Fates in four and a half years. I don’t know why I went from spending multiple hours each day playing it to dropping it and never going back. I’ve played Awakening about once a year since then, but I haven’t gone back to Fates for some reason.

Since its release, Fates has gained a certain...reputation among the Fire Emblem fanbase. Put bluntly, it’s widely considered to be the worst Fire Emblem game. And, to be honest...I can kinda see why. Looking back, the game’s writing was filled to the brim with problems. But still, I can’t bring myself to hate the game like other Fire Emblem fans. I still remember asking my mom to preorder it for my Christmas present when I was fifteen. I still remember devoting hours of my life to this game.

So, I’m left with this quandary. Who should I trust? Other fans, or the memories of my youth? Is Fates really as bad as people say? Well, I kinda want to figure that out for myself. And I think the only way to figure this out is to obsessively play the game.

Over the next few months, I’m going to do a deep dive through Fire Emblem Fates and post my thoughts on this blog. I’m going to go through every chapter, every support conversation, every part of this game to answer the question: is Fire Emblem Fates a good game?

Opening Cutscene

Booting up my copy of Birthright for the first time in years, I’m greeted with an opening cutscene containing much of the footage from the trailer. It’s worth noting that the two armies from the trailer have very different aesthetics, one being heavily influenced by feudal Japan and one being heavily influenced by medieval Europe. The transition from the battle to the woman dancing is done by zooming out, revealing that this battle is actually taking place inside a painting. I actually really like this, it shows that the hostilities that this game is centered on have been going on for a long time.

Another thing to note: the song the dancing woman is singing has been translated into English. I’ll be going through the Lost in Thoughts All Alone’s lyrics and analyzing them when they appear in the actual story. The dance scene leads into circling shots of two families; judging from their different styles and fancy clothing, they are presumably related to the two kingdoms at war. The eastern family has a red and white color scheme, while the western one has a black and purple color scheme.

After that, the camera pans into a deep chasm until it arrives in a land of floating castles and islands, which looks interesting. Next, the opening cutscene shows the dancer in a lake, being choked by a large dragon-like creature. As the creature pushes her further underwater, its scales turn into light and fade away, turning into a humanoid form. Finally, the trailer shows the two swordsmen clashing as the dancer freaks out, setting her up as being an in-between that doesn’t want this conflict to grow. Her necklace flies off as she panics and lands in a pool of dark blue water, bringing us to the main menu.

The opening cutscene, like the trailer, hooked me in and made me excited to play this game. Even though I know that the game is going to bungle the story beats it sets up, I’m still excited to dive right it.

While staring at the dark title screen, which features only the quiet sound of waves for background noise, I get a strange hint of nostalgia. It’s a weird type of nostalgia, though. When I replied Awakening last fall, it felt familiar and comforting. Coming back to Fates, it doesn’t feel familiar. I recognize it, and it’s nostalgic, but it isn’t comforting. It’s like nostalgia for something I’ve forgotten, if that makes sense.

Character Creation

Jumping in, I am presented with three settings each for two types of difficulty. Normal/Hard/Lunatic control the strength of enemies, while Phoenix/Casual/Classic determine whether or not units come back to life. I’ll be checking out the other difficulties in a later entry, but for now, I create a Normal/Casual save file. Yes, it’s taking the easy path. But I barely remember this game and am playing it on a deadline, I don’t have the time to restart every level multiple times.

Next comes the character creator. We’re shown the player Avatar standing at the bottom of a lake and given the ability to customize gender, build, hairstyle, hair decoration (if a girl), hair color, face, scars, and voice. None of the options look bad, but the fact that it’s just choosing from a set list of faces is a bit disappointing. Understandable, considering the fact that these assets are drawn in, but that just raises the question of why there needed to be customization in the first place.

A few oddities about the character creator: hairstyles are sorted on two axis chart of Stylish/Simple vs Wild/Slick for boys and Long/Short vs Cute/Wild for girls. I don’t have time to go into each hairstyle, some are better than the canon versions, some are absolutely ridiculous, some are just boring. The short build is the canon design for Male Corrin while the tall build is canon for Female Corrin. This is probably for the best, because Short Girl Corrin looks like she’s eight. Finally, while both choices have three voice choices, two of Male Corrin’s choices are played by Cam Clarke (Corrin’s other male voice is Yuri Lowenthal, while Female Corrin’s voices are performed by Danielle Judovits, Marcella Lentz-Pope, and Stephanie Lemelin). Later games featuring Corrin stick with Clarke and Lentz-Pope.

I flip a coin and end up deciding on Female Corrin. I go with the generic design, because I really don’t care enough to customize her. Speaking of design, Corrin’s design is a mixed bag. Regardless of player choice, Corrin always wears the same outfit: a grey, black, and white suit of armor with a blue cape. Corrin’s generic hair color is also grey, but like a pinkish grey. I do appreciate Corrin being associated with grey, gold, and blue, making them visually appear to be between worlds, but I personally think the armor looks too complicated, looking more like a striped suit than actual armor. I also don’t get why it has a neck cuff.

Also, Corrin is barefoot. Always. This does give Corrin a sort of animalistic appearance, but that design element isn’t present anywhere else in Corrin’s design. Fire Emblem Awakening was kinda infamous for the fact that none of its characters had feet on their models and I get the vague feeling this game is overcompensating.

Next, we get to the details that actually matter. Name (I went with Corrin, because it’s the canon name and I don’t relate to this character at all), Birthday, Boon, Bane, and Talent. Boon and Bane determine stat growths, but they are labeled by personality traits instead of the actual stars, which is both more immersive and slightly annoying. I made Corrin Quick and Unlucky. Talent determines what Classes are available to you. I didn’t care, so I spun it randomly. It landed on Mercenary.

Prologue: The Ties that Bind

Now that we have our character created, let’s start the game. The game starts with the dancer singing Lost in Thoughts All Alone at the shore of a lake before walking into the lake and sinking below the waves. The song continues as she goes underwater, which means she must be amazing at ventriloquism. As she goes deeper underwater, ruins start to appear, floating in the water. The dancer swims into a bright light and disappears.

Smash cut to the Western prince riding on a horse, commanding an army as they charge into battle. The Eastern prince charges through his army, wielding a sword surrounded by lightning. The anime cutscenes in this game are beautifully animated and incredibly cool to watch. The Eastern prince introduces himself as Ryoma of Hoshido and challenges the Western prince, Xander of Nohr, to a duel. Xander accepts and charges into battle, wielding a sword surrounded by shadowy purple fog. The two clash as the cutscene ends.

We then see Corrin and a Hoshidan Pegasus Rider named Hinoka fighting an enemy, This fight is rendered as an actual game cutscene. Side note, the fact that this scripted battle features Hinoka guarding an attack for Corrin is a great way to foreshadow that mechanic. Hinoka mentions that Corrin looks distracted and reassures her, pointing out that all of Corrin’s siblings are here.

The game then moves onto introducing basic mechanics. If you move your cursor away and look at the other units on the battlefield, you’ll notice that all of them have unique names and designs. Fire Emblem Fates shows both armies off to you during the prologue, which is really interesting. Still, it must be noted that the Nohrian Units are marked as enemies and the Hoshidan Units are marked as allies. This isn’t super important now, but keep it in mind.

Between turns, Ryoma asks Xander why he’s invading and mentions a cowardly attack. Xander tells him to surrender and the two fight some more, both doing decent damage. The camera pans over to Xander’s siblings. The youngest of them, Elise, mentions that, due to a bridge collapse, they can’t get over to Corrin. Her older sister, Camilla, tells her not to worry, because their royal blood allows them to manipulate dragon veins. Camilla moves over to the river and a fireball flies out of her, striking the river and evaporating it. The third of Xander’s siblings, Leo, tells Elise to stay back as they attack the Hoshidans. The Hoshidan royals remark that Camilla’s use of a dragon vein means she’s royalty and the Hoshidan prince Tamuki smirks, saying that he’s always wanted to use a Nohrian royal as target practice.

The two armies of named characters start fighting and a Nohrian general named Hans shows up with an army of reinforcements. He then refers to his own army as cannon fodder and says king Garon sent him to kill them all, because he’s very obviously an evil person. A Hoshidan general shows up and we get some more tutorials as Corrin and Takumi beat up a single redshirt. And then the level just ends.

Corrin and the Hoshidan royals run up to the bridge to help out Ryoma. Xander calls out to Corrin, happy to have found her alive and well. He beckons her to come back to her family, which angers Ryoma, who shouts that Corrin is his sister. Xander counters, saying that Corrin is HIS sister. The other royals argue over which family owns Corrin and Hinoka states that the Nohrians kidnapped her. Xander points out that the Nohrians raised Corrin since she was a child and are her real family. As the two families fight over Corrin, the screen fades to white and we hear voices yelling for Corrin to wake up.

The prologue features some good teaching of mechanics, some bad teaching of mechanics, and an introduction to the game’s plot. It introduces two countries at war and Corrin, a bridge between the two that is caught up in this war. I just have one question.

What even is this chapter? It isn’t in media res, the actual point in the game this chapter is playing off of happens differently. The fact that it cuts to Corrin waking up implies that it’s a premonition of the future, but Corrin can’t see the future in other parts of the game. At least, I don’t remember that ever happening. Sure, this chapter introduces the plot, but it does it in such a confusing way.

Awakening did something similar to this, admittedly, but Awakening is a game about time travel. That scene happened, just in a different timeline. Awakening’s use of media res both set up the plot and helped foreshadow the game’s main twist.

Also, the Hoshidans are allies and the Nohrians are enemies. In a game about a morally grey conflict between two sides made up of real, suffering people, it’s not great to start out by calling one of them evil.

These two traits, aping Awakening without knowing why it worked and failing to be a morally grey story, are going to become much more apparent as the game goes on...

#fire emblem fates #fire emblem #corrin #fe14

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1161

survey by pichu4850

What color do you think of when I say...

Anger? Red, or a really bright red-orange.

Confusion? Gray.

Inspiration? Sky blue. Both word and color give off calming vibes to me.

Shy? Something like an off-white shade, and maybe even pastel pink.

Agony? Olive green was the first color to come to mind, though I have no idea why.

Sleep? Dark blue, like the night sky.

Chipper? Yellow.

Beautiful? Red, the way roses are.

Morning? Light blue or yellow.

Would you rather be named...

Andrea or Aimee? Andrea.

Emily or Erica? Emily. I know an Erycka that I’m not too fond of, so this is an easy pass.

Kelsey or Casey? Casey, though I’d mix up my name a bit and have it be pronounced and spelled as Cassie.

Madeleine or Marina? Eh, not really a fan of either but I’d mos likely go for Madeleine.

Alec or Aaron? Alec.

Ryan or Ross? Not a fan of both names as well though I’d probably go with Ryan, but only as a feminine name.

Dylan or Daniel? Dylan.

Jack or Jordan? I guess Jack, if I have to pick.

Gabriel or Gavin? Gabriel.

How often do you...

Brush your teeth? Once or twice a day.

Eat breakfast? Twice a week, during weekends; though sometimes I’ll end up skipping it for an entire week altogether.

Check your email? I literally never check my personal email anymore after having gotten hired, but I know I should quit that habit and check it every once in a while just in case an intriguing opportunity might come my way. My work email is a different story; I have to use it everyday. I open my emails even during weekends so that when I report to my shift on Monday, my Gmail won’t look as clogged.

Go to the mall? When quarantine protocols loosened up a bit I used to go either on Saturdays or Sundays for some me time as well as some much-needed time away from the house, for the sake of my mental health and sanity. But now that we’re going through another surge in cases, no one’s allowed to go out again and malls are back to just keeping the essential stores open.

Go to the beach? A few times a year, at least before the pandemic. I haven’t been to the beach since 2019.

Play card games? Only happens once in a blue moon, when I get together with friends and someone happens to bring a deck of cards. This isn’t a usual occurrence with any of my friend groups, though.

Have at least 20 minute phone calls? Never. I have 20-minute Google Meet and Zoom calls instead.

Paint your nails? They are never painted.

Wish you were happier? Every now and then.

Did you ever want to be...

A veterinarian? Yes, when I was younger. I once stumbled upon an interview with a horse vet on one of my kid’s almanacs and thought what they did was so cool.

An astronaut? Yup, definitely became a big obsession of mine at one point in my childhood. I still think it would be cool to go to outer space and should the opportunity ever become accessible in my lifetime, I wouldn’t want to miss out on it.

An artist? Not really. I knew from the get go I wasn’t meant to be one.

A school teacher? I would guess yes, but I definitely wasn’t as interested in teaching compared to being an astronaut or like a firefighter.

A housewife? Lmfao yeah. This was the answer I would give when I was like 8 up until I was probably 10 and I knew it stressed out my Asian mother big time. My grandpa got a kick out of it, though.

A firefighter? Yes. This was up there with astronaut.

A princess? Not so much.

A lawyer? I definitely considered law for a brief period, but it was already during my latter college years. There wasn’t enough time to mull over it. But hearing all the law school horror stories from my friends kind of made me relieved I didn’t push through with it; I knew I wasn’t passionate enough about law to want to go through all the hardships that come with law school, so I was fine letting that dream go, and still am.

A doctor? This was never a dream of mine.

Would you consider yourself...

Materialistic? Yes.

Pessimistic? It comes out occasionally, but I don’t think it’s a main trait of mine that people would generally see me as.

Avoidant? Not so much. I can be shy and anxious sometimes but I get over it at some point.

Sarcastic? Only occasionally. I wouldn’t say I speak the language.

Talkative? Definitely not. I hate being in the spotlight, and whenever it’s my turn to share a story or talk in a group I usually have the tendency to rush through it or make it as short as possible so as to return the spotlight on someone else. I’ve always been more of a listener.

Strange? Maybe not strange but weird to an extent?

Intelligent? I guess in some ways.

Lucky? In some ways I am, but I also got handed the short end of the stick in other contexts.

In the next twenty-four hours, will you...

Talk to someone you care about? Probably. I talk to at least one friend a day.

Go to work? Yep, I’ll finally be going back to work since the Holy Week break is over. My workaholic self felt kinda unsettled with all the free time, so I’m actually kinda relieved.

Go to school? I’m not in school anymore.

Be in a different city? Nope, it’ll be working from home for me like usual. We were initially allowed to book visits to the office if we really needed to go there to pack some goodies and stuff, but because of re-heightened Covid protocols our admin has once again prohibited anyone to go there for the meantime.

Read a book? I highly doubt it. I haven’t read any in months.

Watch a movie? Nope. It’ll be a Monday coming from a 4-day break, so it will be incredibly busy tomorrow as there would be a lot to catch up on.

Go to a dentist/orthodontist appointment? No, I won’t.

Do your laundry? My parents probably will seeing as our hamper was nearly full the last time I checked.

True or False: Family...

I have two brothers or more. I only have one brother.

My mom lives with me. This is technically true but isn’t phrased right in my case. I’m currently living with my parents.

My grandparent(s) live with me. No, we moved out of our duplex (where I did use to live with my grandparents) well over a decade ago.

I have half-siblings. Don’t have any.

I am the oldest in my family. Eldest child, that is.

I am an only child. I have two other siblings.

I have 15 cousins I can name off the top of my head. Easily. My first cousins are less than 15 in total, but I know a good number of my second and third cousins as well so this is a cakewalk.

The nearest Aunt or Uncle lives less than an hour away from me. The aforementioned duplex we moved out of is just at the next village; we didn’t move too far so that we can continue visiting them.

True or False: Food...

I am allergic to chocolate. I’m not, fortunately. I’m not crazy about chocolate but I’d be pretty miserable if I could never have it either.

I like vegetables more than fruit. Infinitely more, hahaha. I hate fruits.

I have tried pizza dipped in ranch sauce. Ranch isn’t a very common dressing where I’m from, so it’s not usually offered in restaurants. Given the chance, though, I’d definitely try my pizza with ranch at least once.

I've never eaten kiwi fruit. True, but then again I’ve never eaten most fruits and don’t plan to.

I love junk food.

I love to try new food.

Ketchup goes best with fries (chips). I don’t like ketchup and barely put it on anything.

I like fried rice. I haven’t met an Asian who doesn’t like fried rice.

I can prepare dinner for myself (using a stove or oven).

I hate sushi.

How many...

Pairs of shoes do you have? A little over 10, maybe? I don’t feel like counting in my head rn.

Songs do you have on your music player? I don’t have a music player anymore.

Hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 4.

Times have you had alcohol? Like, ever since I started drinking when I was 18? I never kept track lmao but if I would guess, maybe around 50-60 times? I’m not a regular drinker; I drink probably once or twice a month at most.

Books have you read/started reading in the past month? None.

Windows in your house/apartment are open? I know my parents and sister have their windows open at the moment, so that’s 2. Mine are usually open as well, but I’ve turned on my aircon so I’ve closed them for the night.

Pets do you have? 2.

Kids do you have/want to have? I’d cut it off a a maximum of 3 kids, but having just 1 would already be so nice.

Minutes does it take to get from your home to school or work? I work from home, but in the two times I went to the actual office it took anywhere between 45 minutes to an hour.

Have you ever...

Spilled a cup of grape juice on the carpet? I don’t think I’ve ever even encountered grape juice in my entire life.

Played spin the bottle? I don’t think I’ve ever played this. My friends and I usually resort to truth or dare.

Played Twister? Yes, and there are many fond memories that come with it as well. So when I was 7 years old I befriended Katreen, and her mom and mine hit it off instantly so they started this arrangement where every Friday, her mom picked me and my sister up from school along with Katreen and her sisters, and we’d stay for several hours at their place until my mom would pick us up. Her mom was an amazing host and every week we’d play Twister, watch Pokemon, read books together, etc; anything to keep us comfortable and entertained.

Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? It’s bound to happen every now and then.

Walked out of a movie because it was horrible? I’ve gotten this feeling a few times but I always stayed in my seat because I paid for the damn ticket.

Given the finger to someone on the street? Oh most definitely, as well as drivers passing by. And it’s always been towards men that are being disgusting pigs.

Been so sad/angry that you started laughing? Sure.

Been in a wedding? Yes, but I only got invited as a kid since I was usually picked to be one of the flower girls. I haven’t been to a family wedding since 2007.

Been in a situation where you almost died? Probably not died but almost substantially injured, sure.

Misc...

Are you stressing out about anything right now? Just worried about the deluge of tasks that will inevitably come at me tomorrow but knowing how easygoing my bosses are, I know I’ll be able to ease up soon enough.

Do you think before acting or act before thinking? I used to be the latter but I now see the importance of first considering possible consequences of or how others would be affected by my actions.

Do you act upon your emotions and instinct, or logic and reasoning? Again, I used to be one of these, this time the former. Now that I’m at a much more stable and peaceful place in my life I try not to let my emotions get the best of me.

What are some personality traits you find appealing in a potential partner? I had a number of negative experiences in my last relationship so forgive me for scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to my expectations lmaaaao – I’d love for someone to be sensitive to my needs and feelings, and for them to be able to own up to their mistakes or hurtful habits and know how to apologize and be open to changing if it’s for their self-improvement.

How have you changed as a person in the last 5 years? I tolerate less bullshit now. I think I’ve also grown to be happier and a lot more stable, emotionally. I also have a better sense of what I want out of life and where I want to be, and I’ve also learned to be more sociable and open up to people.

If you could do anything you wanted right this moment, what would it be? Order sushi :(

Is there anyone you can totally relax and be yourself around? Yes, that’s what my friends are for. If I can’t feel comfortable around my friends, I’d view that as a problem.

Did you ever wanted to say something to someone, didn't, and regretted it? No.

Are you scared about the future? I’m scared of the idea of not meeting some of my goals, like having a family; but I’m also excited about what the future could bring me.

#survey #surveys

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alias-b · 4 years

Text

sins of my youth. 005

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Well. It's time for the dance. Sigh. TW: Teenagers can be evil. Also head's up, light will be shined on an unhealthy relationship Evie is navigating. I won't get explicit with it, but we as readers are going to see red flags that our girl cannot see. Or is ignoring. Taglist open :)

Chapter 5: Skirt Safari

Evie didn’t tell anyone she was going to a dance with Billy Hargrove for New Years. Just said some party in the city. Didn’t tell her mother. Not even Heather.

Floated through the holidays with her guitar on the porch swing. Bundled up as snow fell. Little, perfect flurries. Open notebook next to her as she crossed her legs and exhaled into cold. Strumming idle tunes away from her mother’s indoor phone chatter.

A car skidded up to Billy’s house. Day before the party. Tommy’s freckled face popped out of the driver’s side with Carol getting up too.

“Hey, Fenny!” Tommy couldn’t resist prodding. “You stay on the nice list this year?”

“Don’t spend all your coal in one place.” She set one leg down. Head cocking. Billy came out of his house shrugging a jacket on. He stopped to gawk at the snow. Let it fall into his curls. Rough and ethereal.

“Let’s go.” He didn’t glance at Evie there as Tommy approached her porch steps. “Gimme the keys, I’m driving still.”

“Little birdy told me you were gonna be around on New Years.” Tommy leaned against a brick post. A broad smile.

“Oh, you guys are going too? That really makes me want to go.” Evie replied flatly. Billy smacked Tommy’s chest with a hiss at him.

“I got shit to do. C'mon.” He warned, not wanting the annoying boy to ruin his chances here.

“Don’t worry, Evie, I already have plans that night. I probably won’t be around that joint. I don’t qualify.” Carol’s bracelets clinked together when she swept her styled hair aside, undaunted by Billy's steel glaring. Tommy chuckled with her and Billy gave a growl low in his throat.

“You take requests on that thing?” Tommy continued. “Got a song for me?”

“Sure. How about this?” Evie straightened up. Strummed and tapped one foot to a beat.

“Don't stand, don't stand so… Don't stand so close to me...” Evie flashed a smile and kept playing. “How’s that?” Tommy hitched to laugh until Carol hit his chest, tugging because she was over this conversation.

Billy paused to smile at Evie there. Looking so pretty in the snow, it was criminal. Evie touched the strings to stop the flow of vibration.

“She isn’t bad.” Tommy stumbled as Carol pulled him away.

“Come on, you don’t even know what that song is about.” She peered back to glower at Evie. Lethal.

“You see? I can’t sit on my own porch without being bothered.” Brown eyes lifted to Billy as she sat back to idly move the swing with one foot.

“Never actually heard you sing.” Billy had observed instead, twisting the ring around his middle finger. No compliment or insult followed him back down the steps. Evie plucked a few cords, watching him go.

Billy wrestled Tommy for the driver’s seat. Won. Skidded off to raise hell somewhere else.

It was a clock ticking down each lazy hour as her secret hung in the air. Heather parents stole their daughter away to the Holloway's lavish cabin for a family New Years Party which took the heat off the lie.

Evie spent the whole day preparing in her bedroom. Tossed dress after dress upon her bed like she cared what Billy Hargrove thought. Decided on something short and maroon. Sleeves just above her elbows and a slight poof to the little skirt. Gave her waist a little pull and didn’t make her cleavage look half bad. Matched her nails and lip color too.

Makeup spread all over her dresser. Glittery gold shadow with a smoky haze. The dress was a metallic foil maroon, seemed fun enough for New Years. Big hoops and a necklace completed her look. Evie hurried to grasp a jacket before Billy could come to her door.

“I’m going to a New Years thing mom, I’ll be safe.” She called on the way out.

“Have fun, baby!”

“I will.” Evie sprayed amber perfume and was lotioning her hands rushing out of the house. Almost bumped into Billy on the doorstep ready to knock. His eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t tell anyone.”

“Bet you didn’t either. Do your parents know?” She slipped her jacket on. Billy blew smoke in response. He seemed annoyed today which did nothing for her nerves. “So, I put on a dress...don’t get me murdered.”

The joke seemed to go over him.

“Well, let’s go.” He turned and went toward his car, stunning in the cold and twice and rude. “Let’s just get this shit going.” A cigarette hit the pavement.

Evie didn’t move.

“Are you alright?” She asked slower.

“I just want to get there.” Billy snapped. “C’mon.”

“Listen, I really don’t have to go anywhere if you’re going to be an ass the entire time.” She crossed her arms and Billy flared up. “I spent hours getting ready for this stupid thing. This stupid thing that you pestered me to go to!”

His shoulder dropped.

“Hours, huh.” Billy came around and opened the door for her. “We can’t waste that.”

The charm reeled back.

Evie stood unmoved.

“Look, I just got into it with my old man. Wasn’t you.” Billy explained. “You lost the bet, Angel.”

“I did.” She sighed and crossed to get in. He shut the door and joined her. Turned the music down when it blared. “What’s this bar called?”

“The Dogfight.”

“Charming.” Evie stuffed a tiny wallet into the bodice of her dress. Billy eyed her chest. “Watch the road, Hargrove.”

“You spent hours getting ready for me.” He mused, rubbing his chin. “I like when a girl admits it.”

“And how long did it take you to get this hair just right?” She reached and tugged at a curl as he’d done with her so many times. He’d doused himself in that sex cologne he liked so much. A red shirt opened and tucked into the tightest jeans he could have picked out. Leather jacket again today. “We both wore maroon.”

“Looks more wine on you.” He fussed at that.

“Just saying.” Evie broke to smile. “I meant it, don’t get me murdered.”

“We get in, we snag some drinks, we get out. The streets are going to be chaos; it should be fun.” Billy turned onto the main roads. Sped beyond all the other cars.

“I’m not letting you drive drunk.”

“A motel is always an option for me, sweet cheeks.” Billy clicked his tongue.

“With two beds, ponyboy.” She only grinned, undaunted. “I lost a bet, not all my morals.”

Billy laughed, picking up speed.

“We can loosen those up tonight.”

** ** **

“What do you drink, Angel, an appletini?” Billy dragged Evie into a dark lit bar. Pink and yellow lights shooting all directions. Metallic streamers hanging and swaying with the dancers already smashed on the floor. Evie looked down at his hand as he peered around and brought her all the way to a corner table near the window.

Even settled a menu on the other side like they might be hiding behind it.

"Something with a little pink umbrella?" He continued, eyes on the window. Drunks sang along the streets in their party clothes.

“Try whiskey. I’m going to need one for this.” She caught Billy’s head whipping around. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one, I-fuck!” The gorgeous boy lost all composure and skidded out of his chair when a bare ass pressed the window. Evie gasped and covered her eyes, pouty lips slack. Kind of enjoyed Billy losing his cool. “Asshole!” Music overlapped the chaos. Tommy fucking H howled with laughter on the other end, pulling his pants up.

"Fuck." Billy sank back into his chair. "Shithead."

Tommy swaggered in still laughing, had a woman on his arm that wasn’t Carol.

She was clearly older, wrinkled and fatigued. Maybe forty. Wearing a tight purple lace number that was not keeping her warm or fitting correctly. Jean jacket. Fishnets. Smudged makeup. Big beehive hairstyle. She smelled like sweet pineapple and chain smoked her teeth brown and broken.

Billy and Evie exchanged looks because she was also clearly a lady of the night.

“Tommy...who is your new friend?” Billy asked slower. All teeth.

“Her name’s Bubbles.” Tommy was shorter than her in those heels. Head on her shoulder with the cheesiest grin. “She’s a real winner.”

“Charmed, handsome.” The woman rasped and reached for Billy’s hand then Evie’s. “Like the shadow, sweetie, it suits you.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “I like your beetle hairpin.”

“We’re going to hit the dance floor,” Tommy scanned Evie, “good to see you here, Fenny.”

“Right.” She glanced at Billy as they left. “What was that about?”

“He’s drunk. Probably sad about some dumb shit with Carol, they’ll be screwing again before school starts.” Billy said that quicker than intended. A light bulb went off in his head. “Drinks. Wait here.”

“Thanks.” Evie recognized teens from her school and rivals.

“Fenny!” A couple football players spotted her inside. Poked until the window tilted open. “What’s a pretty girl doing in this dump?”

“Our girl who brought Tannen down a couple pegs.”

Questionable Hawkins High Fame.

“Just enjoying New Years.” Evie giggled there fiddling with her nails.

“If someone messes with you, let the guys know, we’re down the block. That bar on the corner.” They started off.

“Will do, boys.” She jilted when Billy smacked a drink down, sitting. “Thank God.”

“He ain't here. Thank me." Billy leaned over to see her. Crossed his arms as she drank. "You don’t party this hard?”

“We snuck into a bar, did you even get carded?”

“Told you, no one cares.” He gulped his own glass down. “Stop worrying.”

Evie just drank more in response.

"You established I only go to lame high school parties." Evie paused to see him. "Kind of waiting for a rain of pig's blood here. I guess I actually want a good night."

"I wouldn't say it's asking a lot." Blue eyes went to the table, paint chipping away from wood. There was an uneasy beat before he softened. “Another? It’s open for the party. Free shit even after twelve.”

“Please.” She followed him this time. Felt the burn in her throat as they leaned there together. "So, why-?"

“Hey, Fenny.” Brock Tannen’s sculpted face craned over her shoulder. Billy tensed, jaw twitching. “Boy, am I shocked to see you here. With Keg King Billy Hargrove. Apply enough heat and even the ice queen melts. Must be a Cali boy thing.”

“You’d be about Antarctica.” Evie replied. He only smiled. Eyes shifted to Billy.

“Hope you stick around to midnight, have fun you two.” Brock pulled a girl off with him, staring at him like he was a pot of gold at the end of a spring rainbow. Little blonde with some acne scars she tried to cover with make-up. An eyeshadow look in blue to match her dress that must have taken hours to perfect. Two missing teeth in her mouth. Skin and bone thing. Young looking.

“Asshole.” They said at the same time. Tension broke. Billy chuckled and she peered in the direction Brock had gone into.

“Did you see that girl with him?”

“No, who?” Billy scratched the back of his neck. Kept looking around.

“Ah, nothing.” Evie brought the glass to her lips again and sipped. Screens all over this bar and the city played the party in New York. Commotion in the streets marked with loud party goers. “So, what’s there to do before midnight hits?”

“Whatever the fucking fuck hell we want.” Billy tapped his glass to hers and downed it. Relished the burn.

“You like to swear.”

“No, I like to drink.” He corrected, offering her a menu. “Eat something.”

“We gotta pay for food.”

“I’m buying, I invited you.” Came a shrug. “Pick some shit out.”

“You want food, honey pie?” A man flocked over.

“Damn right, I do.” Evie peered at Billy. Amused. “I’ll take the fucking chicken tenders with a side of bitching fries.”

“Ketchup?” They were writing, amused because she was cute even still.

“Fuck yes. Um, please.” She gestured to Billy with his jaw slack open. “And who knows what this asshole wants.”

“Blondie?”

“Ah...I’ll just have another drink. Fucking beer.” He batted his lashes.

“Wonderful.” The man slid off snickering.

“What was that, Fenny?”

“I swear, but not like you. It sounded like fun to try it out.” She covered her lips to giggle. “Why didn’t you get food? We’re drinking and it’s going to be a long night.”

“Long night, you say? So, you want to stick around for the whole party.”

“I put on a dress and makeup. People are going to see me and the effort I made.” She set her jaw on her chin. “Avoided the question.”

“I only had enough cash for one meal. Rest is if we need the motel.”

“Billy, you should have said something! I have a few bucks on me somewhere.” Evie frowned when he got his beer.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re probably a lightweight. Get food in your stomach before you down more free whiskey.” He brushed it off quickly, blue eyes on the windows. Evie’s food came and she slid it between them.

“It’s hot, have some. Don’t make me feed you, I won't be my mother..” She pressed and pouted until Billy snagged a piece of chicken. They shared the basket, licking warm fingers clean. Billy took the thumb he licked and fixed her lipstick, earning a snort of protest.

“Ick.” She cocked her head away, amused. “Thanks, mom.”

“You know, it took me ages to place that tiny accent you got. But, it’s so Louisiana. Mona rubbed off on you.” Billy pointed when Evie had gotten a new drink.

"It's not."

“Let’s get air, I think some idiot is setting off fireworks in the street.” They got up to get away from the crowds. Evie noticed the odd couples. Scanned before Billy was pulling at her wrist through the mess of dancing bodies. Cool air chilled her pink cheeks as they got down the block to pause. Billy sighed and set one foot on the brick behind him to light up.

“Don’t have an accent," Evie picked up again, "that’s all mom.”

“Born and bred in Louisiana, it’s sticking to you too.” Billy offered the smoke.

“Not good for the singing voice.” She declined so he puffed again. Groups were already tossing balloons and confetti about. Bar hopping from club to club. Evie pulled her coat closer. “I don’t have an accent. You have one, west coast.”

Billy watched her look up at the few stars that decided to come out over the city.

“I haven’t been to California. Been to Vegas a couple times. All the women in my family descend upon that city every few years and I always had to tag along. Not much for me to do but look at the lights.”

“My dad says Vegas is full of swindlers and whores.”

“He strikes me to think that about most places.” She chuckled and Billy agreed, stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “This your first time out here?”

“Yeah.” He sucked in some air, tongue sweeping his lip.

“Hargrove's never been to New Orleans. I bet you’d like the food, it’s unreal.”

“You haven’t had the food in Cali.” Billy quipped, scooting in next to her to see the sky that had her so enamored. “Never really have to deal with the fucking cold.”

“I always wondered how you stayed warm in those clothes.” Evie’s giggle cut the second he pressed into her.

“I just tuck in next to a warm girl, Fenny, it isn’t rocket science.” A breath touched the air and Evie felt herself spark. Saw those same stars glittering brighter within Billy’s eyes. A distant shore calling them both home.

Evie felt those flower petals whirling around her stomach like butterfly wings. Burrowing deep to bloom with new life inside her. Vibrant colors she hid from the world spinning to unfurl. Billy looked into her soul and saw the colors dance neon. Wind picked up their curls with gentle caresses. A pull of vines and thorns bubbled up too. Twisted every way to protect Evie in the only way they knew how.

She could feel Billy’s chest heaving with air. Hard and flush into her skin, stealing warmth. Admiring the echo of lights behind her brown eyes. If she opened her mouth, a rose might blossom on her tongue. Billy wondered about tasting it for himself. He dared to inch in and she spun out.

“It’s a nice night. Beautiful.”

“Let’s get a beer to go take a hike from this place. We’ll make it back before the ball drops.” Billy figured he could just keep her from the main party and she wouldn’t notice the odd couplings within. They delved in and out of bars. Watched the mayhem in the streets. Even caught a totally illegal race or two. Sparklers on every corner underscored by laughter and jeers.

“What’s next for you, after school?”

“Save money to hightail it out of here. See the beach again and get a shitty job.” Billy gulped, licking his lips after. “You going to college?”

“Probably just the local community college, more focused on my songs. My mom and I keep trying to put it out there. Something’s holding me back.” Evie saw him peer at her to continue as they clicked along the cool sidewalks. Decorations scattered all over the buildings and streets. “What if these big time producers don’t like them? My songs. I mean, what if they tell me I’m no good?” She paced ahead to ramble. “I just don’t think I can take that kind of rejection.”

“So, you find some asshole who wants to put you on the radio.” Billy chuckled. “You had entire albums on your walls. You want it bad, chica.”

“What about you?” Evie gestured with the bottle. “What secret hobbies and talents does Billy Hargrove hide away?”

“I care about my car and that’s about as deep as I go, Angel.” He winked, tossing his empty into the trash so she finished her own and followed. Swallowed the froth down. Evie hurried to nudge into him.

“C’mon. You’re a good enough student. I see the grades you get in our classes.”

“All to keep my old man off my shit. Not like that works.” Billy stopped at a crosswalk, settled his hand on the bar so Evie slipped under it to lean there and make him look at her. He couldn't help the smirk at this playful side.

“Who will I tell?”

“Heather, most likely.” Came the quick reply.

“I don’t tell her everything,” Evie trailed off with her eyes wandering, a sly smile pressed, “I sing, sew, play the guitar, and collect little trinkets. Buttons. Rocks and crystals. Old coins and keys. Little vintage ceramic and porcelain figures. And I needle felt.”

“What’s that?”

“You stab wool with a special needle until it makes a pretty shape. You probably caught a few things in my room. On the bookcase.”

“You’re a hoarder.”

“I’m very organized.” Evie giggled as they crossed the street. In their own little bubble, ignoring all the festivities around them.

“What can’t you do?”

“I can bake alright, but it's messy. Not a great cook. I’m hopeless, my mother gave up trying with me. I also can’t get my leg behind my head. But, I’m close.” Her joke brought a full laugh out of him. Angelic sort of sound. “I’m serious.”

“You’ll have to demonstrate, I don’t believe it.” Billy stood in front of her, walking still and chuckling as he went.

“Fat chance.” Her heels picked up to get beside him. They passed a window full of TVs and stopped to see all the parties playing within each screen. “You ever think the world is too big? We don't have enough time to experience all of it, I mean.”

Billy only puffed.

“So, what can you do?” Evie pressed again.

“I can cook alright. I don’t know, I just do good in school because the shit’s never been hard on me. Used to surf,” he glanced at her, “back in Cali.”

“I’m not a strong swimmer.” Evie said, looking up at him and the lights playing on his stunning face. Followed the curve of his jaw down his neck. “You know, Heather lifeguards at the pool every summer. She’d help you get a gig if you need a job when school is out. Probably prefer you over the other jerks that apply.”

“Not as bad as the other jerks, I like that.” Billy mused, eyes flicking all around. Caught in stars again. “Hey, there’s the LA bash. Miss that shit. Music scene raged pretty hard.” The way he smiled melted Evie all the way to the pavement. Billy standing there lax and missing home. Displaying his own lush colors. Dreaming and feral.

“You’re always writing in class when you’re not drawing dicks in textbooks.” Evie observed, earning an amused look in response. “Do you like that stuff? Stories?”

“My mom used to say I told better stories than she did. I’d tell her them to help her sleep.” Billy admitted, blinking a couple times before the illusion shattered and he went stony again. Paced around Evie to continue.

“You could write books, get more into English. Make some money being an author. Sell stories to the big screen.”

“Burn out and go broke, sure.” Billy lit up another cigarette, gave this entertained puff. His wall went up higher and Evie stayed too soft. “End up teaching some snots like that jerk, Bowers.”

“He’s not a jerk.”

“Not to the girls in class.” Billy flicked his ashes. “Probably likes you and Carol fighting for his attention.”

“We don’t…” Evie went red as an apple. “I don’t. Carol’s just jealous of the attention he gives me.”

“Still weird. She hates that you’re a teacher’s pet. Don’t know why you’d want to be.” Smoke edged from his lips.

“It’s nice when someone is respectful once in a while to a girl like me. When they listen, you know?” Evie held herself as they walked along a bit slower. “He respects me and what I have to say.”

“Shouldn’t trust someone just because they’re being nice to you, Evie.” Billy had this distant expression when he said that. Full of ocean waves rolling into a peaceful shore.

"Nice is still better than..." She never finished and Billy didn't ask her to.

They peered at all the buildings illuminated before them. The skyscrapers pointing straight to heaven. Music boomed from several clubs, mingling all the celebrations together.

“Want to head back? Get another hard drink.”

“I’d like that.” She admitted, shuffling some.

“Move it, Fenny, free alcohol doesn’t happen every day for us.” Billy snatched her by the hand, picked up the pace until they were both laughing and out of breath. Reeling around drunk groups of friends to squeeze back up to the bar.

The hard notes of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear us Apart” began after the second round. Evie was swaying already as they stood at the corner of the bar counter.

“Do you dance, Angel?” Billy cocked his head.

“Sometimes. If I’m supposed to be onstage one day, I have to.” She giggled, bubbling and pink like champagne. “You?”

“Fuck, no. Just bounce around and smash into people at concerts.”

“That counts!” Her voice picked up over the ruckus. People dressed in glitter and metallic moved together above a floor that lit up. Gave the place an opulent vibe.

“You look like you want to get out there!” Billy leaned toward her. The third round came.

“We don’t have to!” Evie was pressed all the way into him. Both shouting at each other out of necessity. A pulse pounded their flesh apart. Jackets were left on a chair next to Tommy and his date.

Billy sank his drink in one go so Evie followed.

“I asked you here, I’ll ask you to dance if I want!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Billy echoed, sweeping Evie by the waist out with him. Bodies swayed all directions. Smashed them even closer together. Curls bounced.

Evie got swept up in the lights dancing on her skin. Blue and red glows now. She let her head tip back and moved with Billy there. He watched her intently, felt the whole world slow. Smiled brighter than he should have. Hot and sparking.

Electric and dreamy. Fizzling neon in their hungry veins. Bodies heating and sweaty. Nothing mattered in these lights though, something freeing there.

Didn’t even care that it was fucking Cyndi Lauper blasting.

“Girls just wanna have fun!” Evie sang along. She came alive under these glimmers in the crowds. Like she was the only one there. Every song change, they banged to each beat and never seemed to tire of it.

And then the mood tipped. Tempered with that damn Foreigner song about love. Billy and Evie stilled with it. Looked out at the couples coming together for a slow dance.

“Uh,” Evie swallowed harder and tucked some unruly curls behind her ear, “did you want to…?”

“We’re doing this fucking party right. You asked for two things. A good night and no murder, I can manage that much.” Billy stole her forward. He tried to blame the alcohol.

Dipped a palm around the small of her back to bring her into his chest. Inches shorter, her eyes popped open. Lips parted with no words in sight. The alcohol in their bellies caught fire. He grabbed her hand and she laced their fingers without a thought about it. It was bold, how he touched her and Evie wasn't used to that.

“There ya go. Just sway some.”

Evie pressed her lips and broke that eye contact because it was turning her back to mush. Stared at the saint chain around Billy's neck. There was a pleasant glisten upon his taut chest from sweat. She got drunk off his stupid cologne. Let him inhale her perfume in turn. Boiling amber gleaming to stunt all his senses. Hint of sweet vanilla lotion.

Unabashed, Billy pressed into her body. Not thinking she took up too much space or she wasn’t desirable. No, Evie Fenny was perfectly covetable. With her batting lashes and lights highlighting a glow upon her high cheeks. They swayed together between couples so Evie brought her arm over his shoulder. Gathered the bravery to see his eyes again, already looking at her face.

“Billy,” Evie curled her fingers into his shirt, “why am I here?"

“Because I asked you.” Billy spun her around under all the stars and streamers.

“Why’d you ask me?” She searched him. Saw his eyes flicker beyond her a couple times.

“Because I wanted to, Evie.”

“Why’d you want to?” Her tone etched into him, gentle as she could with another change of songs. Something older from the 70s by Kate Irving. Her little voice filling the space around them.

Billy just kept spinning Evie there at the center of the floor and they looked at each other without even getting dizzy. Let the world tilt while they stayed static. Silence crept and it was stunning.

I'm afraid 'cause it feels too good

And I want it too bad

“Because you called me pretty.” Billy winked that time. Devilish. “At that party on Loch Nora.”

“When we yelled at each other?” Evie felt the tension break and spill out. “I said your eyes were pretty.”

“Same thing.”

I never dreamed someone like you

Could want someone like me

Her head came to his collar when she laughed that time. The heart under his skin picked up.

“Evie.” Billy pressed then so she came up. The syllables died on his tongue. “We’re here and I like it. So, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“No, I guess not.” She let herself smile into his skin when her head dropped again. A slight giggle. “I like it too.”

“Good.” Billy hit that word hard. They spun and spun to the flow of sound and lights. Drank it all in. Until it was seconds to midnight. Couples were stilling to count.

Billy looked at Brock raising his drink across the way.

Twenty seconds.

He peered down at Evie when her eyes lifted to see him.

Just one kiss, he could have stolen it.

And he couldn’t do it.

Their hands dropped away. Evie smiled at the scene. Everyone celebrating the birth of this new year. It felt magical. Too good to let flutter away.

Billy just looked at her and Evie breathed.

It happened too fast.

Soft hands on his jaw while she came to her toes and gave him one peck upon his lips. So inordinate in sweetness that Billy felt his eyes water.

Instantly she slipped back down. Still beaming brighter than any star this night.

A thank you for every single smile he’d painted upon her face in these short hours. For his boldness and his touch without fear.

A kiss where there were no thorns for the first time in all her life.

Billy had never been given such a kiss. It was gift wrapped. Something so signature for him from this girl. This girl he decided he liked to be around. He gasped the moment she let him go. Caught Brock laughing all the way across the room.

“No.” He said. Crushed somehow.

“No?” Evie’s head cocked in confusion.

“Happy New Year!” Echoes and fireworks blasted. Everyone jumping up and down while Billy and Evie remained still as marble. Locked into each other.

"Ah, I mean..." With midnight gone, Billy pulled her in. Decided to make this one count.

Palms cupped Evie’s face. Brought her back with the slightest gasp he drank down. Kissed her full on the mouth like he'd been thinking about it all night. Billows of shiny confetti fell over them. Stuck to hair and clothing. Caught on flushed cheeks. Even tickled the kiss and made them laugh into it. Evie held his wrists, tried to remain steady until she had to part and angle to go back in.

“Why?” She hitched the hot word against him.

“Because I want to.” Billy uttered, mouth open just a little to coax her back in.

This candied confetti kiss she’d remember forever. And the beautiful boy who opened his heart just enough to share it with her. Evie shined at him when she drew out enough to see his eyes. Billy’s thumbs drew shapes into her cheeks.

A finger had to playfully swipe a bit of caught confetti from her bottom lip so he could taste her again. Utterly divine.

Evie’s arms slipped around his neck. Pulled.

“Let’s get out of here,” Billy spoke between kisses. “Yeah? Let’s just go somewhere.”

Her lashes fluttered at him. Same sensation drew up her stomach before she was nodding.

“Okay.” Nerves crept. Billy smacked their lips together one last time. Like he wanted her and only her for the rest of this night. “I have to, um...restroom.”

“I’ll grab our coats.” Billy’s hands brought hers down. Held them. He seemed in a hurry. “Meet me at the door. We’ll go.”

Evie floated off into the wave of bodies so Billy sped to Tommy’s table. Bubbles must have excused herself too.

“Man, you tongued, Fenny. It was actually kinda hot.” Tommy raised his hand for a high five that was ignored. “I won the pot, you know.”

“You paid that girl.” Billy snatched their coats up.

“Yeah, no one has to know that. Don’t get me disqualified.” Tommy leaned over. A hand clapped Billy on the back.

“I’m so impressed. She kissed you, man. Whatever you did, I want that power.” Brock laughed loudly. “She was all over you, and that bit after midnight. Poor girl. Thinking anyone would ever-”

“Man, just shut up.” Billy shoved to pass him. "Let's just forget this shit ever happened."

“Oh, no, B. I don't think we will. You probably just want your reward. You earned it.” The horrible boy made it a point to count each bill carefully until he pressed it at Billy’s chest. “Good work. Maybe you can get a blowy out of her before you drop her off at home. My date’s good for one too before I call her a taxi.”

Billy shoved the money into his pocket. Felt like trash. Eyes anywhere else.

“Whatever, man.”

** ** **

At the same time, Evie stumbled to the sink and washed her hands. Cloud nine. Sang to herself out of habit.

“Oh, but anyone...who knows what love is…” She looked at that reflection. This breathless, kiss smothered girl who was grinning. Happy. Dabbed under her eyes to fix the makeup with a cold paper towel. “...would understand.”

“Pretty pipes you got there, sweetie pie.” The scratching voice called before a stall opened. Tommy’s date. “Nice night, huh?”

“The best.” Evie was still dancing in a dream, showered in confetti.

“Wasn’t as bad as I thought. Free meal. Pretty guy who treats you right for a night. Not a bad gig. Not at all.” The lady came to the mirror. Washed her hands and started to apply some extra make up. “Stupid name though. Skirt Safari.”

“What?” Evie’s head cocked. Hip leaning into the sink.

“Oh, baby. You should open those big eyes.” The woman puckered up and put a lipstick into her tiny clutch. “Tommy told me everything. Tradition. These boys bring a date. The ugliest girl gets them the win and they get some money. Stupid high school thing. And I won. Tommy said I’d get a bonus for that.”

“They…” Evie felt her entire heart sink. The vines and their thorns wrapped tighter around her heart until it bled. Like it never wanted to be touched again. “Wait, Billy…he...we-” No breath came into her lungs, it was all punched out. Ruthless and swift.

“The world is unkind to us, sweets.” Bubbles sighed at her reflection. “We have to find that kindness where we can. While we can. Just enjoy it because you never know what the next day will bring. Husbands who like to hit. Women who walk out on their babies.”

“It’s not fair.” Evie tremored there. Unable to move so Bubbles gave her cheek a pat.

“I know. But, we don’t let them see they’ve beaten us down. Do we?” Bubbles smiled at her without fear in her heart. And it was tragic because no one cared about her strength, all they saw was how she looked. “My ma always said to be brave and kind. Not everyone’s parents give that advice. But, they should. Be a better world.”

“My mom says that also.” Evie’s fists closed. Passionate tears sprang to be blinked away. “I really hope the world is kind to you tomorrow too.”

The woman paused. Gave this fluttered smile when her eyes watered. Evie was marching away from her. Shoving through the crowds where Billy stood with Brock and Tommy.

Billy saw her expression and she caught fire.

“Skirt Safari, huh,” Evie shoved him into the bar, ripped her coat from his arms. Billy just gave this opened mouth look of horror. She laughed cruelly and Brock joined her, tugging some of his friends to see. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Billy pushed up.

“No, Evie, he’s right. Your boy didn’t take you because you’re ugly.” Brock was still chortling, holding his stomach. “Three hundred bucks to get him to take the Hawkins Ice Queen. And you were so easy, girl. We all took notes.”

“Shut up!” Billy had snapped.

“You didn’t disappoint, he was supposed to kiss you before midnight. But, you earned him the win all on your own!” They clapped and laughed at her there. Evie shook and growled. Shoulders raised. Cackling hyenas.

“Three hundred, wow.” Calming, brown eyes snapped to Billy. “You should have held out. Tannen hates me so much, I bet you could have gotten five. Maybe seven.”

“She’s right, man!”

“Evie, it-”

“You’re all disgusting!” She swept her hand out. Came to Billy’s face. Her tone thickened, but she didn’t cry. Not one drop for any of them. Vibrating so hard with fury that her hand came up. Billy saw it. Waited. Didn’t flinch the way he did at home. Figured he deserved this one.

Silence drowned the boys behind her.

“I want to hit you,” she let her lip wobble, “you know why I’m not. You know.”

“Evie.” Billy had nothing. Nothing to give her. Nothing to make her stop shaking.

“You’re all horrible. Disgusting, pieces of shit. Bet Tannen gave you an earful about me. Fuck you both.” Evie leaned out, looked around. “You know, I don’t care why I’m here. What’s awful is every stunning woman you animals brought here will always deserve more than the world can ever give them. You’re the fucking beasts.”

She tore away to go outside. Marched through all the jubilation. Steaming.

“Evie!” Billy was running after her. Yanking at her wrist after she got her coat on.

“Don’t touch me!” A shriek had him skidding backwards.

“Let me fucking explain this.”

“Nothing to explain. Brock paid you to thaw the ice queen. Jokes on you! I’m not even a virgin! I’m not a prize, I’m not anything to you.” She shoved him again because he kept grabbing at her. Trying to slow her down.

“Let me drive you home.” Billy insisted. “Let me get you home safe. I won’t even talk. Hate me forever. Evie, wait, damn it!”

“Leave me alone!” Her scream sparked some attention. She got colder. Sneered at his eyes. “You’re not worth it, Billy.”

Something about that struck an arrow to his heart.

"You talked all this shit about fire's starting and getting out and I..." She hitched to get lower. "I trusted you. I believed it, you made me believe it...you're disgusting." A scream perched in her throat, but never left.

"Just let me-"

"No! I don't have to listen to any of this, so just leave me alone!" Evie kept pushing back at him.

“Hey, hey, back off the lady!” Those football players from Hawkins were descending. Grasping Billy by the arms. “Hargrove bothering you?”

“Yes!” Evie shot out, eyes on Billy’s face. “He’s bothering me!”

“Let go of me!” Billy struggled so Evie began to run. As far and as fast as she could until she couldn’t hear him anymore. Fireworks banged over their heads. Exploding to rain down.

Her chest seized so she went to the first payphone she saw. Dialed a number she shouldn’t have.

“Mmm, yes? Who is this?”

“I know you said not to call, I need you. Can you pick me up?” Evie shut her eyes so tight. One tear fell. “Please.”

A sigh.

“Evie? What happened? Where are you?”

Evie finished the call. Went into an alley so Billy wouldn’t find her. Waited there in the cold. Tried to hide from the pretty explosions in the sky.

They rang too loud upon her ears. Started to sound like thunder. Evie shut her eyes. Began to rock. Felt out of her skin and trapped in it at the same time. No control. Nothing. Just an ache while the vines crushed her heart. Hands covered her ears.

A lighter palm touched her shoulder.

“Evie.”

“Fredrick.” She reeled up. Tossed herself into his arms. Sobbed so hard and betrayed herself.

“Hey, hey. I got you.”

“Can we go? Can we go home?” She wept, ruining his shirt with makeup and glitter. “Can you take me to your place? I didn’t...I didn’t tell my mom where I was. I don’t want her to know. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Bowers was already buckling her into the car. Evie curled up under his coat when he offered it. The air conditioning calmed her some until she was biting her fist to stop the flow. Blood welled under teeth.

“What happened?”

Evie sniffled.

“They...They all laughed at me.”

** ** **

Curls ruffled out on a towel that smelled of pine an hour later. Feet padded out of the bathroom. Evie in a soft grey robe. Cloth dragged upon the floor until she saw Fredrick in bed. Seated up with little reading glasses to mark some papers down. Handsome.

“You really won’t tell me what all happened?” He mused.

“Just some stupid boys.” Evie played with the tie at her waist. “You told me to go out with a stupid boy my age. Remember? At the end of summer. After everything I let you do to me. Did...Did you get bored of me? Was that it?”

"No, Evie. You don't understand."

"You told me we had to stop, why did we start?"

“I remember.” He sighed, settling his work aside. “It was for the best. I thought. You're all I think about, did you know that? I want to be with you, but there are rules in place. They don't believe what we have can overcome.”

Wearing nothing but some boxers and a clean, white tee. His feet touched the floor before he rubbed his head.

“You still look so good in my robe.” He sounded bashful when he said that. Eyes drinking her in and averting. "You're all sin, Evangeline."

She shuffled. Shy. Uneasy. Ignoring it.

“Used to say that a lot.” Evie pressed her lips up.

“And I mean it every time.”

“I meant what I said...before summer ended. You remember that too?”

“You know I do, Evie.” Fredrick rubbed his eyes. Swept his hair between those soft fingers. Evie crossed to him.

“We were together the year. You weren’t my first, but you were the first man I ever loved. We spent all of that summer together and you told me we had to stop. Out of the blue. You talked of us running away from this place and getting married and it hurt me.”

“I’m your teacher. If people found out about us... They'd never understand.”

“You waited a year to stop us. Why kiss me if you knew we'd end? I didn’t tell anyone. Not even my best friend.” Evie reached out. Touched his shoulder. “You miss me and I miss you.”

“I’m weak for you, Evie. You know that.” Fredrick let her climb into his lap. “You’re so different and special. Not like other girls. You heard me. You listen to me.”

“I want to be with you. And I said I loved you, but you…”

"What if I said I loved you? Huh? Those boys don't matter, a girl like you needs someone mature to match." He pecked her cheek. "I do love you."

Evie's resolve melted. He shut out the red lights. Burned her thorn covered vines. Words held power because we gave the syllables a charge.

And all Evie Fenny could put out into the world was lightning.

"You do?"

He smiled. Her prince. Braving so much to be with her. Wasn't that magical?

"How many boys have seen you like this?" Fredrick asked in a peculiar way. Charged.

Evie bit her lip. Couldn't look anymore. Didn't answer the question.

“I was scared of us.” He soothed now. “I should never have let you go. I’m always going to want the best for you, Evangeline. I hope you believe that. I’ll take care of you now, but you have to let me.”

Evie leaned in. Kissed him lightly. Wondered how Billy would have touched her in that motel room if they made it. How he'd feel in return.

"Will you let me?" Fredrick pressed. Wanting all the control she clawed to keep for herself in this skin and marrow. Devouring her without shame or remorse because he was older and knew best.

But, nice was better.

Evie had nothing. Head full of static. Body pulsing against her will. She wanted to scream. She wanted to eat more flower petals. A man loved her and she felt ugly and blaring. Out of control. No longer held to this world. Is that how it should feel?

“Okay."

His chest heaved like the sun might have just come out.

"Can we go to bed now?” She pecked his cheek. Felt his hands going under the robe to open it.

Wordlessly, Fredrick Bowers reached and turned the lamp off. The blaring in Evie's head never ended that night.

Darkness loomed to snuff out every star.

~~~~~~~

Next up, we learn how the rest of Billy's night went. It's been an odd week. Thanks for reading :) Feel free to chat. TAGGED::: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #angel fenny #billy x angel #SOMY #writing #mine

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