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yvesdot · 2 years

Note

PLEASE tell me about social media in the Sims

Oh my God thank you all I got these within MINUTES of that post. Sure!

INTRO

The Sims 2 was released in 2004. Because of that, there is no social media in that game. There aren't even cell phones or laptops-- Sims have big clunky desktop computers that they use for things like playing video games and looking for jobs.

The first expansion pack, University (released 2005), added cell phones, which in my experience players rarely use. You have to sit through 2004 game loading time to get to a community lot (public/commercial, as opposed to private, lot) which sells them-- you need to have a cell phone store somewhere in your neighborhood-- and after all that it provides little utility. The base game (TS2 without expansion packs/DLC) includes (free to use) phone booths on every community lot by default, and landlines are pretty cheap. In the game, you just don't need it.

Obviously, in real life I love having a personal phone and would never have a landline. I can check the time, browse various sites, research any question I might have, and chat with my friends who aren't around. I like always having my phone on me-- but I do not live in The Sims 2.

The Sims 4 does have phones. It also has a pack called Get Famous, which-- and I'm not saying I understand this at all-- allows your Sim to get some kind of quirk that defines them as a celebrity. My Sim's quirk was phone addiction.

I'm never going to play this stupid evil game again. ('ω')

But, okay, why is that my reaction to my Sim being addicted to their phone? Why does it bother me that they pull it out and browse, or whatever? Why do I never use TVs in my Sims' homes, and why don't I get them cell phones? Do I just hate realistic gameplay, or the modernization of the games? Am I a hypocrite for having pink CC laptops in half of my TS2 builds?

Turns out no I was right about everything obviously as always.

SOME REASONINGS

The basic answer is obvious: not everything realistic is something I want in my game. I wish mindless social media scrolling and binge-watching and capitalism didn't exist. I don't want to add CC Starbucks cups to my game because I don't need Starbucks to be in more places than it already is. Abortion mods personally make me sad, because abortion is a solution to a number of problems I wish we didn't have. In a game with distinct WooHoo (protected sex) and Try for Baby (what it sounds like) options which both make Sims just as happy, why can't every pregnancy be wanted and healthy?

Obviously, there are a lot of Real Life Things in TS2 basegame, like the fact that the central mechanic hinges on time and resource management: you have to figure out when to put your Sim to bed and when to take them to the bathroom to optimize everything else (fulfilling their Wants, making them money, causing chaos, etc.). I find myself much more entertained by planning my Sim's day around their varied needs than I would be trying to figure out TS2 tax mods. Then, too, everyone has a different threshhold for what they consider a good or bad realistic addition, including additions to gameplay. I can't play with the mod ACR (Autonomous Casual Romance), for example, because I am a control freak and if my Sims jump into bed with random people I explode. I'm not against any given mod, particularly because I know that it's just my personal taste to play so carefully. That being said, TS2 is in many ways a game about control: using all your power to help your Sims reach the goals you and the game set for them.

More importantly, though, I play the Sims character-focused. While I love building houses and towns, I don't think about the game as gameplay- or worldbuilding-first; all elements to me are a scaffold for the characters, or the Sims! I play The Sims because I love my Sims the way I love the characters I write and read about and the people I hang out with. This is actually the same thing people are doing with, say, ACR, because they like to feel like their Sims are more 'real' and have their own preferences. By default, for example, the game doesn't set gender preference-- you do, when you instruct your Sim to check out or flirt with or smooch another one. I do occasionally indulge in using ACR (with the main function turned firmly OFF) to randomize sexual preferences in my neighborhood so that I can be surprised. Of course, the latest version allows you to make everyone default bisexual if you'd like...

(I do, for the record, LOVE the people who make tax and abortion and death by illness and welfare mods. I find their ability to handle chaos and ride the wave hands-free admirable, and I especially love watching them play and reading their stories, because everything can hit the fan in an instant. That kind of adaptability and dedication is insane! I think individual players should be able to do and add whatever the crap they want to their games. Have no fear; I am not against the pregnancy-enabled Orgy Rug.)

So, in short, I want my Sims to be happy and fulfilled in good relationships. In my opinion, social media does not provide any of this. I know you want this to be at least 5,000 words of a response, though, so let me prove it to you ^__^

THE SIMS 2 BLOGGING WANTS

TS2 actually does have a comparable feature to TS4's cell phones, which is blogging. If you have the expansion pack FreeTime, your Sims can have hobbies, and let me tell you those little bitches Want nothing more than to Blog About [Hobby]. I have a mod now that tanks the frequency of these Wants and it still comes up too often-- I'm talking every time the Wants rerolled (another Want fulfilled, Sim went to sleep and woke up, etc. You get about 4 Wants each time), I'd get a Blog About [Hobby] Want and it drove me nuts. Yes, it's repetitive, but it's also... unsocial.

In real life, if I'm blogging or scrolling through Tumblr or whatever, I know that every individual user is a human person. I'm experiencing social interaction by chatting and peeping. I am, right now, chatting to beloved friend lazarusemma, in addition to two anonymous persons whom I appreciate very much for showing their interest in my interests. It's similar (but not identical to) my being at a party where my friend says "oh please talk about The Sims 2" and then two people yell out from the crowd, "yeah, talk about The Sims 2!" There is a demonstrable social aspect to all of it.

In TS2, though, there's no way to convey that your Sim is doing that. The reason phone calls work so well is that they're essentially identical to having a Sim walk by, appear on the lot, and chat to your Sim (other than that, of course, you can't play ball over the phone). You see the Sims chatting about various topics, the relationship bars go up, your Sim's Social need fills, and of course on your end you see your Sim walking around and making hand gestures as they talk on the phone. It's really adorable! And, importantly, it's character- and relationship-based. You see your Sim making social connections.

The blogging is a mystery. Is my Sim expressing strong opinions on crafting? Are they making friends through their LiveJournal? Is there drama? Who's reading that blog? I have no idea. It makes no coherent difference to my Sim's life to blog, whatsoever, which is simply not accurate to the social aspects of blogging in real life. It's like if you integrated sewing but all your Sims could do was sit at a sewing machine for 5 hours and nothing would happen. (In practice, sewing increases the Sewing talent & interest in Arts and Crafts, allows Sims to craft and then sell or keep usable items, fulfills Fun needs, etc.)

I'M CREEPING UP ON A CONCLUSION NOW

It's also worth noting that you can't really replicate IRL dynamics in the Sims this way to begin with. IRL I do not have people walking by on the lawn who I can talk to, not just because people don't tend to walk by but also because we live in a world where you might not like someone for reasons beyond "they have Level 10 interest in Money and I have Level 0" or "they have 0 Nice Points." People are transphobic in real life. Furthermore, travel in The Sims 2 is either simple (call someone you know to come over, and they show up within the hour) or impossible (Sims in two different neighborhoods can't & won't ever interact). The Internet solves a problem (physical accessibility of a person or resource) that simply does not exist in these games.

All this is to say that I find some of these mechanics "unproductive," in the sense that I see no benefit to them for the Sim's fulfillment, relationships, etc. If they write a novel in TS2, it takes hours and hours and hours and then it sells and they can take it out of the bookshelf and read it. Blog post in TS2? Into the ether. Does not affect anything in the game. It takes less time for two Sims to have a landline phone call than to call one of them over to the other's house, but when you have those two options, you don't really need IMs (real thing in TS2!) or cell phones. I'm racking my brain to find a use for cell phones and I guess if another Sim was using the landline it'd be helpful....? But I don't play in big families, so, again, subjectively useless to me. What I really want as an answer to any gameplay mechanic is: what goal does this achieve better than any other current mechanic? Writing a novel, calling a Sim, and using a sewing machine all have a good answer, while I personally feel cell phones and social media do not. That doesn't mean you can't add them, just that I find them useless.

So, at the end of the day, I'm right about not everything realistic being an inherently good gameplay choice, particularly when it forces me to remember substantive real life issues (I wish I had more control over my phone! I wish companies weren't inventing new ways to keep me scrolling!), while adding nothing of value to gameplay and forcing my Sims to stop what they're doing to perform an animation which has no material significance to their lives, meaning, no significance to my gameplay or investment. We should also be asking ourselves why we want to imitate real life, and whether we can, before we start doing it. Yeah, sure, you could integrate credit card payments into The Sims 2 basegame... but would it actually make the game more fun to play? What factors make credit cards necessary IRL, and do or should they exist in TS2?

I find this to be part of TS4's trend of throwing everything into the game to see what sticks, which for me made for pretty overwhelming initial gameplay, though I'm completely willing to admit I "played it wrong" by starting with a bunch of packs. (I didn't want them, but the copy I was... borrowing... came with them all.) I know social media in TS4 has been updated since-- I'm just not a fan of the game for other reasons, and personally, I don't think I need social media in my games no matter how well-integrated they become. I wrote this post for funsies (*‘ω‘ *) The Sims 2 reigns supreme!

#txt #the sims 2 #<- for tagging purposes if you know anything about this game PLEASE ignore me I'm a rando.#I promise I will someday deliver well-thought-out posts on trigger warnings and original fiction but for now... happy eats.#yves talks #yves talks sims

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barbarianprncess · 3 years

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“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved,

(aka @chironshorseass )

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :).

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.” He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red. As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found. His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

#IM LITERALLY SO SORRY #my writing #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fic #fic rec #rbs are appreciated!#mari tag #prompts

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

Text

HER

I was rollin' around and in my mind it occurred. What if God was a HER?

Quick lil one-shot. Erik is onstage at a poetry night.

The words Urban Fever flashed neon above the familiar stage that Erik had seen countless nights through Open Mics and jazzy blues. Erik took the stage for the former, a first time poet created by the woes of heartbreak. He'd been through a lifetime in under a year.

A packed house sat before him as he adjusted the mic making it taller from the last poet who was 5'6 in her clunky platforms. Lights blinded him from the faces of the crowd and he squinted as the liquor in his system along with the vibe of the room made his mind run backward with reminiscing. His tongue was loose recounting his too brief time with.. Her.

"I swear I lost my train of thought when I passed her, fro godly like a pastor, skin like brown alabaster.

Astral choirs sing jagged edge cause shorty done walked right out of heaven a vision fulfledged."

NINE MONTHS BACK

"E, What you doing," Diamond's irritation cut into his sinful and lustful thoughts. For a minute he forgot he was in a relationship. He couldn't say he was in love but neither could most people. Diamond was down for him at least, he knew that for sure. "E!!"

"Hm?" His mind blanked so bad he missed the turn to take Diamond to work which meant he'd be late meeting his other bitch once he dropped her off. She sighed throwing her arms.

"Really E?" Diamond cut with a look that could kill. She was visibly sick of his shit but still there.. "You gone check this bitch out right in front of me when I'm in the car? Beside you?" She pushed the wheel causing the car to drift slightly into the left lane nearly hitting the car there before he righted it. "You that bold?"

He took a low look at her from the side of his eye as he kept driving. He'd passed the girl because Diamond made him gas the car so not to get hit.

"You trippin."

"Don't do that," she groaned. "Don't LIE. You want the bitch, go get the bitch." Impulsively she grabbed for the wheel again but he blocked her. "Let me out."

"You extra right now, chill out."

"Don't tell me to chill," she grit pushing the side of his head. He gave her another side eye as he contemplated pulling over.

"Just let me turn around.. Okay?"

She groaned as her head hit back on the headrest. "I don't know why I fuck with you, you ain't shit, never gonna be shit, make me feel like shit over your shit. It's just shit."

"So leave then Diamond! I don't need to hear that shit."

"I really should.. I'm not dumb, I know you cheating! I don't know why I stay with you when I know better."

"You know why."

Eight thick inches explained exactly why. He purposely missed the next turn hoping to find that girl walking again before she disappeared.

"I swear to-," she jumped suddenly, "LET ME OUT. I'M DONE, LET ME OUT!"

"Aye, chill. I'm a get you to work."

"NO. FUCK YOU," she pointed popping her door open before the car could make a full stop. He didn't stop and she either had to roll out or shut the door. She slammed it. She was finna be late as hell.. Meanwhile he was circling the area tryna go back to find that mystery woman he'd spotted before. Diamond wasn't dumb. She was shaking with anger, talking to herself.

The tall drink of hot chocolate with the god tier afro stood gracefully at the crosswalk looking like she'd flewn right out of heaven and into Stockton. Erik didn't know what the hell he was thinking.. he wasn't.. but he was damn near leaning on Diamond while steering the car closer to the sidewalk, rolling at a crawl to match this new woman's pace as his current sat fuming in the seat, shoving him off of her.

This new woman was divine. There were diamonds dusted in her skin like he'd never seen on a woman who wasn't on a TV screen. When she walked down the sidewalk, the world became chopped and screwed. That's how fixated he was. Not even Diamond slapping at him or shoving him could break his focus on that woman and her walk as he cruised beside her as though the surrounding traffic didn't exist.

"LET ME OUT," Diamond yelled smacking his face. She'd been trying the break the passenger door handle.. like he wouldn't make her pay for it. He finally stopped the car to let her noisy ass walk.

"Bye," he muttered pulling off to catch up with the fro'd up goddess.

"DON'T TALK TO HIM, HE'S TRASH," Diamond yelled from afar, her voice carrying faster than she could physically catch up. Erik wasn't bothered or embarrassed.

He had to think carefully of what to say. How could he impress this girl without her thinking he was a creep? Following her probably wasn't helping. Luckily she dropped something. It looked like money. Seizing his opportunity, he quickly parked in a no parking zone and dashed to snatch up what he discovered to be a twenty dollar bill.

"AYE.." he called ahead to no avail. He had to jog to catch up and when he reached her side, he noticed she had in earbuds. He waved for her attention and she fixed her eyes cautiously. Her almond eyes lined in jet black were just as black. She gritted on him hard. Even her disgusted face attracted him. She turned her nose up until she saw the twenty in his hand folded the same way the one in her pocket had been. He had her. "You dropped this.."

His hand smoothly ghosted hers as she took it. She felt like velvet to the touch.

"Thanks.."

She gave him a second look and he bit his lip as he met her eyes wondering how to make his next move.

"Ok.. so that's it?"

Her question caught him off guard.

"You do all that, follow me for damn near three blocks and now you've got nothing to say? That was anticlimactic."

Erik's jaw dropped slightly before he caught it.

"Wanna ride?"

She turned her nose up and he presented his key fob watching her deliberate on whether or not to trust him.

"Might as well.. before you get towed. Goofy ass," she mumbled with humor. There was something about her voice that was familiar and calming, the deep timbre. He rushed to retrieve the car. His face said it all as he opened the car door for her. It wasn't something he'd been in a habit of doing.

"Why thank you," she smirked.

"Of course... Why walk when you can be chauffeured," he commented when he was in.

"I like my woman black as the heart of an Aryan. Black as the back of a diabetic's neck. Black as coffee with no cream. My girl looks like 2 AM in a blackout."

Erik glanced wistfully to his memories ignorant to the soulful groans, snaps, and hums from the crowd. Of course his woman was no more, but he carried her still regardless..

Erik was stuck. He couldn't be away from his peace especially in the quiet moments when neither of them had anywhere they'd rather be than side by side doing whatever. Nail shop? He was in the pedicure massage chair right beside her with a drink and his feet up. Bank? They'd hit the BB&T and the SunTrust in one trip. They paid bills together.

"E, hand me my debit."

"You tryna pay it?"

"Yeah, I gotta pay today."

"I already did that."

"You paid mine?"

She seemed pleasantly shocked which was what Erik wanted.. to make her happy. Especially considering the pushback she got for their relationship. There were a lot of hating ass bitches.

"I heard you talked to Bianca.." He watched for any sign that she was omitting details to spare him. He didn't need to be spared. She took a deep breath and he knew without her speaking that some choice words had been exchanged. Afterall, he was playing Bianca with a whole girlfriend before leaving them both for this new flame. Bianca hadn't reacted well when she found out. "What she say," he inquired with faux calm. He had every intention of cussing out all his exes.. every one of them who had a problem with him moving on. It was the side effect of dating crazy bitches. They were too passionate. They couldn't just let shit rock, they had to harass him and his girl.

"I ain't worried about her, she can try me if she wants.. I'll knock her ass out that's for sure."

"Aight then," Erik smirked. He still planned to say something. "What she say though," he pressed.

"Same shit. She can't comment on anything but my skin because she knows I look better then her."

Erik was disappointed every time he thought of the fact that he'd unknowingly fucked a self hating colorist. He hadn't seen it before but now that he was serious about this new girl, true colors were showing.. and it wasn't just Bianca.

In a moment of fuck it after a sweaty quickie in the post office parking lot, Erik uploaded a chest-up pic of him and his cutie glowing from within with smiles white enough to rival the purest coke. She clung to him, laughing from the gut with crinkled eyes about something they'd both previously witnessed and he was grinning full force. That was the shot. Very pure. It'd brought him joy just looking at it, but others ain't feel what he felt and they had words about it. He cut off a childhood friend over a conversation where the guy'd said something casually insulting.

"How you ain't mean it when it came outta your mouth," Erik challenged. His friend was a damn coon.

Even worse was witnessing the treatment of her when it wasn't immediately clear they were together. She stood firm and held her own with class and dignity but it was work she didn't deserve to have to do. He couldn't be there for it all and even before he'd entered her life these problems were there.. but still..

"You know you perfect?" Erik asked this question at least once every other day to uplift his woman.

"Erik I need you to pick me up from work today," she said one day and when he asked why, she stated that her tire was flat. There was a nail in it. He sighed rubbing roughly through the fuzzy growout at the base of his locs. It had Evil Ex written all over it.

"I'll take take of it," he ensured. "I'll meet you for lunch too, wait for me."

His dedication knew no bounds. His loyalty had never before existed. His feelings for this woman were like nothing he'd ever felt.

Five months in.. he felt the same way. He'd never lived with a woman.. He'd never been faithful in his life, but then he'd never been in love.

Eight months.. she was still perfection through the good and bad and he'd do anything. He saw it all. The attitude, the dookie braids, the subtle insecurities, the slight messiness around the house, the flaws.. and all he could think of was that... he had his eye on a ring.. one with diamonds that matched the diamonds he saw in her soft rich deep brown skin.

"I'm casting all my game hoping she bite. Told her ass: You got that air that I like. Derriere sky high bite down I like to hit it from the bike. She say she love when daddy cum and fill it up just right."

The ring was still in Erik's pocket. It flipped absentmindedly through his fingers as he spoke. Unfortunately she'd never gotten it.

26 DAYS PRIOR

Erik gave backshots through the hour of 5 PM. Both he and his girl had arrived home around the same time and it was on sight.

"Hey.. Bae.. Get up and fix me something to eat," he whispered in her ear as she was laid out and half asleep. He was laid out as well with little energy after emptying himself of everything. He nudged her and she groaned but sat up.

"You can't fix it? I don't wanna move," she snickered.

"Pleaaaase," he begged watching her give in as she stretched. He smacked her ass as she rose. Then he rolled over and closed his eyes, hungry but ready to sleep. He inhaled her fresh scent left over on the pillow. It reminded him of oceans.

The doorbell rang.

He figured it was a package, something else she'd ordered. The closet was full. He drifted off.

When a half hour passed he opened his eyes and she still hadn't returned, she had to be cooking something. The thought hit him to surprise her in the kitchen by taking her as she cooked. It would be sexy..

When he walked out to the kitchen, he immediately entered a state of shock. Not only was she not cooking or coming back.. She had left a note that amounted to this:

Erik.. I'm leaving you for my ex.

Apparently her ex had showed which meant they'd been in contact... she even let him in.

Turned out he'd been a rebound all along.

"I should've known better..," Erik's head dropped in dark humor as his story came to a close. "When a goddess says her name is Karma that means misery. Better run if you got a history. I guess if she's God then God's testing me. Cuz she sure left with the best of me."

@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #her

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peach-pops · 4 years

Text

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete)

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ???

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day)

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!”

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE.

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!”

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.”

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!”

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!”

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!”

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!”

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing)

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular.

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!”

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play.

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?”

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!”

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?”

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?”

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I-

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-”

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?”

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?”

“ BABE?!”

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?”

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?”

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?”

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!”

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you

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violetnotez · 4 years

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HC: Y/N Wears a Revealing Version of their S/O’s hero suit

God it’s been so long since I’ve done headcannons, I miss them so much! These I’m going to keep tame, cause I don’t want them to be toooo spicy!

Also, I didnt iclude Shindo and Shinso, sorry! I realized rather quickly how long these got and didnt want to bog down this post, hope thats okay!

Pairings: Mirio x reader, Tamaki x reader, Bakugo x reader, Kaminari x reader (all characters aged to 18+)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Mirio

It would be a disgrace if I didn’t use this pic

So you had been invited to a photo shoot for a pretty high end boutique to be one of the models

Were you stoked that this extremely prestigious brand wanted you on their front cover? Yes. Were you terrified as hell? Also a fat yes.

Mirio, being the adorable boyfriend he is, was hyping you up for it

“Your going to be amazing sunshine! Ya never know until you try, ya know?”

Even with him being your support, you still felt extremely self conscious

“I don’t know...I’m not a model, I don’t think I can do it-“

“Don’t talk so negatively like that babe! What if I came with you, would that calm your nerves some?”

Your practically melted into him, giving him the biggest hug everrrr

“Oh my god would you? That would make me feel so much better-“

“Of course babe! Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it!”

So the day of, you came into the photo shoot fresh faced and pale as hell from nerves

They seperated you from Mirio, taking you to the makeup area and clothing area

You entered a room lined with extremely bright makeup stands and racks of clothing, your area in a small corner to the right with a mannequin wearing a certain set of clothes

You finally realized what you were actually modeling-and your mouth dropped

No wonder the asked you to model, being Mirio’s girlfriend-it was a sexy version of his hero suit

It was a skin tight leotard, the number “1000000” scrawled against your chest, a thick red cape draping against the back

Lemon colored glasses and thigh high blue boots completed the look, a huge gulp reverberating from your throat-

How the hell were you going to pull this off? In front of your boyfriend no less-

You pain stakingly got your makeup done and your hair, your strands pooled up like Mirio’s hair in the front and the rest cascading in bed head curls

You finally got the skin tight costume on, looking at yourself in the mirror-you felt nervous but-strangely calm-you didn’t look half bad, actually

A small smile graced your face as you walked out, your heels clicking against the floors as you walked into the photo shoot room

Now the question was where was your-

“Hey sunshine! Whoa, that get up looks great, looks pretty similar to something I wear dontcha think?” He was totally teasing you, his tone playful as he leaned into your blushing face

Suddenly your bravery was gone and you were a nervous wreck-your boyfriend was looking at you with hungry eyes, his orbs gazing over every exposed curve

“Mirio, you don’t have to look at me like that-“ you whined, feeling your cheeks burn bright red

“But I want to look at you like this babe,” he smiled, his voice dropping as he licked his lips- “you look absolutely delicious dressed up like that.”

Tamaki

“Oh cmon Tamaki, please come with us!” You pleaded with your nervous boyfriend, his brows furrowed in fear

It was the middle of October, and you and Neijire were planning to go to an early Halloween party in the middle of town

“I-I wish I could go bunny, I really do, it’s just-“

Tamaki was fiddling with is hands, his inky black hair cascading over his distraught face

He would love to go with you, but the thought of people, and dancing, and dressing up, and oh god what if they made fun of his costume-

You placed a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek, sending him a reassuring smile

“No worries, Tama, I get it-just stay home and chill, I’ll make sure to come home a little early,”

“Oh-okay,” he obliged, watching you go into the bathroom to get ready

Tanaka decided to do exactly what you asked him to do-he watched some TV, ate some food, anything to calm his nerves as you got ready

After an hour or so, you emerged from the bathroom, walking into the kitchen in your full get up

Your hair was straight, see through yellow glasses covering your eyes. You wore a black leotard, the fabric hugging your curves as a beige cape draped around your thighs. Two purple belt laid against your hips, drawing attention to your plush thighs as your boots clicked around the apartment

Poor Tamaki practically choked on his cereal when you walked in-when you said you were wearing a costume, you didn’t tell him it was his hero suit!

Tamaki walked over a blush erupting over his face, “Y-y/n? W-what are you-wearing?”

You spin around, guilt pooling in your stomach as your eyes met your boyfriends flustered gaze

“I’m sorry Tamaki I should have told you! The party is “hero” themed, so I thought the best suit to wear was yours-do you...want me to take it off?”

Tamaki vigorously shook his head, his cheeks a fiery red

“N-no! Please don’t! Honestly, that’s the last thing I want...” he stuttered his shaking hands resting on your hips and pulling you gently to his chest

You had never seen Tamaki so bold-your eyes widened, your hands placed against his chest

“-but I don’t think you should go to that party tonight”

Bakugo

You ran over to Bakugo, your phone screen containing a pic of a cosplayer dressed up in full Bakugo hero suit, gauntlets and all

You legit shoved it into your boyfriends face, your face beaming- “look how cool this costume is!”

“Tch-Only I can wear my hero suit as well as me,” Bakugo scoffed, going back to eating his ramen

You looked at him distraught and disbelief- “Cmon, Bakugo, you had to admit it’s pretty cool-“

“Cool? He’s a fucking wierd ass nerd, making my hero suit...” Bakugo said under his breath, his eyes now glaring at his phone screen

You placed your hands on your hips- “So if I wore your hero suit, I would be ‘wierd ass nerd’?”

Bakugo chuckled harshly- “Yeah-but you couldn’t wear it, like I said, I’m the only one who can pull it off-“

Ha-if that fucker wanted to play, then you were here to win

You slammed your hands down on the table, your arms encasing a surprised Bakugo in between your arms

You gave him a wicked grin, making Bakugo’s crimson eyes wide with surprise-“Bet bitch.”

Y’all are so mean to each other 😳

You stomped out of the room, your mind now reeling-you had ZERO idea how to make his costume...

You quickly made a call to Mina and Momo, telling them about your predicament-Mina would help you design, and Momo would help make the materials

Both were extremely open to helping you, especially Mina-any attempt to destroy Bakugo’s overly high ego, she was down to do!

But she had a twist to your intial plan- “what if you did a sexy version of him! That’d show him!”

You weren’t exactly sure how that would do anything, but eh why not-if you could make him even more mad, this was the way to do it

Momo was hesitant to make such a lewd outfit, but you quickly reminded her of her revealing hero outfit

-she quickly agreed after that

Mina designed the “suit”-honestly it was just a bra with two orange X’s, bootie shorts with a grenade belt, and green ribbon connecting to the black thigh high boots

You complained to Mina about how uncomfortable the high heel was, which she responded with “Beauty is pain!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes

How would Bakugo’s suit be complete without the gauntlets! You three had the hardest time with that-deifnitely spent a whole day watching 3 hours worth of cosplay tutorials to make those damn things

But after many hours of snacking, hot glue guns, and screams of annoyance, you three FINALLY had the costume finished-and you couldn’t be happier! It honestly made you feel so cool and powerful...especially those gauntlets-

no wonder why he wore the clunky things, they honestly were fun to wear

You decided to wear the outfit before Bakugo came home one day, your face smug as you waited for him to enter your shared apartment

You finally heard the click of the door, Bakugo wearing his usual baggy pants and shirt he wore when he came home, his shoulder holding his duffel bag full of things

“-Hey”, he welcomed you gruffily, not even noticing your attire

“Hey yourself-“ you replied, a shit eating grin on your face as you walked over to him.

He still wasn’t looking, too busy rummaging through his bag- “Am I still a wierd ass nerd?”

Bakugo looked up, and holy shit was he in for a sight

When you said you would make his hero suit, he didn’t take it that seriosuly- you? Make his suit? Psh like that’d happen

BUT IT HAPPENED

You looked-really good in it too-he deifnitely was appreciating the extra skin that was involved 😳

You smirked at his obvious surprise, his cheeks a fiery red as you did a small spin in the suit- “How does it look?”

Suddenly you felt pressure against your wrists from Bakugo’s hands, your back now against the wall as Bakugo drank you in with his piercing red eyes

Now it was your turn to be surprised-cause crap you didn’t expect that to happen

He was now in control of the situation and he knew it-he gave you a shit eating grin, making your blood feel incredibly warm

“-it looks decent...but I think it would be better on the floor”

Kaminari

“Mina no, I’m not-“

You were in shock, flabbergasted, confused-when did they have a intimates based off of hero suits?

AND WHY THE HELL DID THEY HAVE YOUR BOYFRIENDS SUIT

“MINA YES!” she squealed, giggling as she pulled your size out of the rack

The little outfit was pretty revealing- all it was was a white lacy bralette, with a short black jacket with white lighnting bolt decal and a short black leather skirt to match

It was honestly not your thing-it also just felt wierd to wear something like this-

“Your buying it and that’s that-you needed neccesities and this-“ she shook the outfit in your face, “is a necessity!”

The girl seriosuly shouldn’t be allowed to spend money-she stuffed the outfit in her full bag of clothes, bouncing over to the register as you followed her from behind

“I needed bras Mina, not lingerie!”

Yeah she didn’t listen

You finally got home, trying on your new outfits from your shopping spree when you fell upon the set shoved in your shopping bag

The little pink sneak

You pulled it out-it wouldn’t hurt to try it on, she did buy it for you...

You quickly got into it, admiring your body in the mirror-it was tight alright, but kinda cute in ...the skirt accentuated your legs, the bra was decently comfy, and the jacket pulled the whole thing together and made it a pretty cool yet revealing outfit

Just as you were testing out how much movement you had in the leather jacket,you heard the door open to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared

“Hey babe, do we have any more toilet-“ Kamianri waltzed in, unknowingly oblivious to the scene before him, until he laid eyes on you

You never thought you saw the man blush harder-his eyes were wide with shock, his cheeks a hot shade of red as sparks of electricity flashed around his body

He obviously didn’t know how to react, and in his flusteredness, he somehow slipped on the floor, landing with a hard thud

“Denki!” You yelled out, scrambling to your ditzy boyfriend, “you okay?”

Kaminari gazed up at you, and holy crap he felt blessed- he had a full view of your exposed cleavage, a grin growing on his face as blood tricked down from his nose

“Oh no, Kami, you got a bloody nose-“ you scrambled to get him a towel, kneeling down to place it against his nose

He quickly swiped the blood away, his hands instead pinning yours against your back

“-Dont worry about that,” he grinned, his eyes a dangerous shade of yellow, “let’s worry about you babygirl...and where you got that little get up,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Taggings:

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie @johnnysactualgf

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pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow · 2 years

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Donovalex concepts I will not let go of bc the power of denial keeps them both alive and away from the Furnace:

- Donovan is absolute shit with affection and blushes every time Alex grabs his hand or kisses for longer than 0.02 seconds.

- Alex then "has to" comfort Donovan after the emotional overload and gently pats him on the back, unintentionally worsening the loop.

- If Alex can't sleep, he heads to the living room and plays video games until he passes out. Donovan then handles it in one of three ways in the morning: Wakes Alex up gently, moves him to the couch without waking him, or moves him to the couch without waking him up only to then shove him off in the world's cruelest move.

- If Donovan is too tired he falls asleep pretty much anywhere, including on Alex's shoulder. Alex secretly loves when that happens because he looks so relaxed when he’s asleep, and because it’s his chance to protect Donovan a little.

- Something that calms them both down is Donovan playing with Alex’s hair once it's grown back.

- Alex always tries to get Donovan to sing, and Donovan always gets very embarrassed because he doesn't think he sounds good and Alex just stands there with his mouth open cause dear god, why does his boyfriend have that beautiful of a voice.

- Every so often, Donovan quietly sings when he thinks he’s alone. And every so often, Alex listens in from behind a wall/door and tries to not applaud.

- Donovan can tell Alex is there the instant he's done singing because Alex loses all stealth abilities but he can never tell during the song, so they both try their best to play it cool in the immediate aftermath while Donny's blushing and Alex is still prying his jaw off the floor.

- Since the Furnace happened, Zee and Alex absolutely refuse to eat oatmeal. However it’s also one of the few foods the Alex could eat until his system got fixed back to normal, so Alex spends even more time in the hospital because “I refuse to eat that shit, it’s almost as bad as the slop.” It was a great relief to everyone when Alex could actually eat normal food.

- If either one of them needs help, is hurt, or has a panic attack/breakdown, the other will instantly do anything and everything to be with them. Alex once missed his surgery because he found out that Donovan got put in the hospital by one of the radical groups who still believed in the Furnace.

- Alex spent a lot of time in hospitals during the surgeries/post-ops and started doodling to pass the time. He’s gotten pretty good at it and often sketches people. One morning, Donovan finds him passed out on the couch with his sketchbook open to a page that shows him, Alex, and Zee sitting in their former cell and laughing. The next page has a sketch of Donovan on the beach, sound asleep.

- They both have their bad days, and it always makes the other person really sad cause of how much it changes them. Donovan always gets very closed off and cold, and Alex feels a little hurt, but prioritizes comforting his boyfriend by cuddling, bringing tea, and getting takeout. But when it’s him having a bad day, Alex just shuts down and doesn't talk, move, or give any indication that he’s alive. Donovan’s more awkward when it comes to comforting people, so he mostly either fills the silence or makes grilled cheeses, depending on what's needed. Every so often he’ll sing since Alex finds the sound reassuring.

- Aside from their mental health days, they've both got some pretty bad physical shit to deal with. Donovan has back problems after 5 years of chipping and Alex has to deal with chronic pain and clunky prosthetics. Their solution is keeping an emergency treatment bag in the bedroom with supplies and some comfort shows on DVD.

#carl donovan #alex sawyer #donovalex #escape from furnace #eff this #headcannons

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blodreina-noumou · 3 years

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The 100: One Final Rewatch

This is it. My send-off to The 100. One full, complete rewatch. Season one to season seven. Episode 1 to episode 100. Every cringeworthy, beautiful, brutal, heartwarming moment. Every chopped plot thread, every inspiring character arc, every sailing and sunken ship. Every gut-wrenching death and every narrow escape. The best, the worst, the utterly mediocre.

All of it, in order, one last time.

Unfortunately, we’re not starting off on a strong foot.

Episode 1x01: “Pilot”

(Fun fact! I totally watched the pilot last night and wrote up almost this entire post, and then I forgot to save it in my drafts. In that post I was like “I’m never watching the pilot again after this, lol!” but now I have to so I can remember my notes. I’m mad.)

Highlights

Best quotes:

“Looks like your dad floated me after all.”

“No one has a brother!”

“Let’s give them something else to remember you by. ... Like being the first person on the ground in 100 years.”

Best moments:

1 - Getting to see our first glimpses of most of the major players of The Hundred. Octavia cheering on Finn’s rebelliousness, when he starts floating around the chamber. Monty and Jasper sitting together on the dropship. Murphy standing behind Octavia as she steps out onto the ground. Bellamy and Clarke sure are...there.

2 - Octavia stepping off the dropship and screaming, “We’re back, bitches!” Fucking “Radioactive” playing as the kids run screaming out of the dropship. Everyone experiencing sunlight and fresh air for the first time in the entire lives. It’s cheesy, exciting, and on-the-nose. I love it.

3 - The final moment almost makes up for the rest of the episode. Watching under the impression that these kids are alone on the planet, and basically just running wild without supervision because they feel relatively safe, and for some of them, free for the first time in their lives - the whole thing is charming, but feels a little too juvenile. Then, right in the midst of a fun, summer camp moment, - swinging across a river on a vine, complete with indie pop rock soundtrack - Jasper gets speared right in the fucking chest!! The music cuts, the remaining kids scream and run, and Clarke gasps out that succinct and game-changing line: “We’re not alone.”

Lowlights

Worst quotes:

“Hey spacewalker! Rescue me next.”

“Note to self: next time, save the girl.”

“We have to warn them.” .. “That’s what my father said.”

Worst moments:

There is SO much that I hate about the pilot. So much. It’s hard for me to pin down the worst moments, because I think it’s most of the episode. Here’s my Top 3, to keep it short.

1. Bellamy. Just all of Bellamy in this episode. It took me a long time to warm up to Bellamy, and this season really reminds me why. He’s pulling all of this alpha male posturing that makes me want to mock him relentlessly. He causes chaos and postpones very vital and obvious measures for their survival just to cover his own ass. He might’ve gone to the ground to protect Octavia, but once he’s there, most of his decisions are about making sure he never has to face the consequences of that choice. He does grow a lot from here, but it’s hard not to hate him in the first episode. His hair doesn’t help. Thank god they let that one go quick.

2. Clarke and Finn are supposed to be these super smart, master survivalists, but they drink river water without boiling it or purifying it in any way. Hello giardia! Just one example of bad world-building and inconsistent realism in this universe.

3. Murphy being like, “Leave Jasper alone, he’s with us.” Only because in like, two episodes, he’s going to be ready to kill Jasper. Murphy is a dick in the first season, lmao. It works well, though, because his heel turn is one of the best I’ve ever seen on television. And it’s fun to watch Richard Harmon play around with being a total asshole.

Small Things

Things I Never Noticed Until Now:

1. Finn’s foolishness, and the boys who followed suit, is what breaks the dropship communication systems. I don’t know how I missed that in my half dozen viewings, but here we are.

2. Clarke goes from a very practical braid to a much less practical half-ponytail in the space of five minutes and no one comments on it.

3. Finn is actually the very first person to call Clarke “princess.” I’d always thought it was Octavia. Fun fact - so many people call Clarke “princess” in this episode/season, I spent my very first viewing back in 2015 convinced she was literally descended from royalty.

MVP of the Episode:

Wells Jaha. He tries really hard to counter Bellamy’s ego trip. In the beginning, he’s one of the only people, besides Clarke, who is focused on trying to keep everyone alive. They had to kill him in episode 1x04 because he would’ve solved everything if he stuck around. There’d be no drama, just Wells running shit.

Overall Impression

The premise of this episode had so much potential. But a clunky script with too much exposition and some very awkward performances makes it fall very short. Maybe it actually stands as a chilling portent of a pattern we’d come to know too well in this series - incredible potential, very little satisfying follow-through.

Episode Rating: 1/10.

This is one of the worst episodes in the entire series. A feat that wouldn’t be achieved again until at least s6.

The good news is, we’ve got nowhere to go but up!

#steph rewatches the 100 #the 100 1x01 #the 100 rewatch #saltblogging

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ada-mike · 3 years

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The Truth Always Comes Out - Digimon (Davis/Yolei)

Hey, guys, long time no see. Hope you’re all doing well, all things considered. I decided to dust off this blog and post a little FanFiction for a change! Fancy that. Why FanFiction for a fairly rare pair in a children’s cartoon from twenty years ago? Good question. I was honestly inspired by the work of a truly amazing writer @tanyatakaishi and their incredible story Innocent Games, whose sequel is currently in progress and definitely worth the read whether you’re into Digimon or not (but you should be into Digimon, i mean seriously?) But yeah, drop by and give Innocent Games a read, drop a comment and a kudo too while you’re at it. This short story I’m posting myself is so inspired by Innocent Games, it’s pretty safe to call it a FanFiction of a FanFiction, doesn’t really fit into any canon, and is just something I had rattling around my head that I needed to bang out. Please give it a read and let me know your thoughts! Stay safe, ya’ll.

- Mike

*******************************************************************************************

In hindsight, he really should have known better. Yolei had always possessed an inquisitive streak to put it lightly (whether or not the matter being investigated was her business was rarely a concern) and she was typically about as adept at snooping things out as Davis was poor at hiding them.

And really, on his laptop of all places?

Davis, along with the rest of their friends, had spent his fair share of time around – as well as inside of – computers, but regardless, they were still Yolei's domain through and through, her expertise. And as his father had once told him many years ago, during a family trip to the supermarket where Davis had denied, despite being caught, that he'd tried to shoplift a pack of gum down the front of his shorts: The truth always comes out.

His thoughts were scattered though as they stumbled through the front door and into the blackness of the dorm he shared with Ken. Yolei was strung over his back like a long-legged, lilac-haired knapsack – having mounted him during the elevator ride, laughing, the liquor in her belly turning her playful.

The haze of alcohol still hung heavy in Davis’s mind too, enough so that his legs wobbled dangerously as he carried her through the blackness to where he approximated the futon was.

“Is Ken here?” Her breath was warm in his hair and the heat climbed up his neck to settle in the tips of his ears.

“Nah,” He said. “He’s with his parents this weekend.”

“Perfect.” She purred.

Davis picked up the pace, stumbling over a pair of soccer cleats in the dark. He spun in a circle, pulling a fresh laugh from Yolei, before depositing them both on the sagging futon cushion. Yolei sat pinned behind him, a little squished, but regardless it was the perfect position to plant sloppy kisses on his exposed neck. Davis squirmed, his heart racing.

“It doesn’t smell in here, does it?” He asked.

“Only a little.”

“It’s the trash, I bet. I haven’t taken it out since Monday.” He moved to rise, but she pulled him back into her lap, near growling:

“Leave it.”

“Mmm,” He hummed. “You like the funk, huh? It sets the mood for you?”

“You’re about to ruin the mood if you don’t shut it.”

“Such a way with words, love.”

Love.

That word. It was enough to diffuse squabble that had been sparking.

Davis sunk back into her and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling up and down his chest, then down his gut. He seized one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing her sharp knuckles, the pads of her fingers, her wrist. It was surprisingly tender for him.

And it drove her absolutely wild.

Her free hand had just wrapped around the buckle of his belt, when the door to the bedroom creaked open.

“Davish?”

They both flinched as tiny feet pounded on the floor, leapt, then thudded lightly on the futon by their side. Yolei reached and flicked on the lamp switch by her head.

“DemiVeemon!” Davis was grinning at the sight of his partner, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought you’d still be sleeping, buddy.”

“I had a dream that we were on a boat! I wanted to tell you about it!” The in-training Digimon clambered onto Yolei’s knee. “Yolei, your face is so red you look like a tomato!”

“It’s hot.” She explained. And it was, the compounding moments of passion followed by DemiVeemon’s interruption had them both sweating slightly.

“Where’s Poromon?” The Digimon asked, unperturbed. Fresh from his nap, he was ready to play.

“Um- He’s spending the night in the Digital World.” She dug her nails into Davis’s side, causing him to wince in pain, the soft touches suddenly gone. “I kind of thought you’d be there too.”

“Nope!” Chirped DemiVeemon. “But we could all go now!”

“Tomorrow, buddy.” Davis brushed his hands over DemiVeemon’s ears. Even if a trip to the Digital World could be fit into their agenda, the phantom feeling of Yolei's hands on him was fresh and that very likely meant that standing up anytime would be a bad move. “But hey, you know, I think I still have some Udon in the fridge from yesterday. Ya hungry?”

“Yes!”

As DemiVeemon scampered away, Davis sighed and lifted himself out from between Yolei’s legs so he could sit beside her.

“Sorry about that,” He settled his arms on her shoulders, leaning close. “But where were we?”

“Davis, no.” She pushed him back. “I told you that I was taking Poromon to the Digital World so we could be alone tonight. Why didn’t you do the same?”

“I was going to. I just – I dunno, felt bad about dumping him there.” Davis rubbed his nose. The alcohol's buzz was fading from him now, much too fast for his liking. “He’ll be in a food coma in twenty minutes though, I guarantee it. Then we can get back to -”

“Hold on,” Her eyes sharpened into knives behind her glasses “You think I dumped Poromon in the Digital World?”

“No, I-”

“I did not dump him,” She continued, shifting further away on the cushion as she sat up straighter. “He’s helping out in Primary Village. I’ll be there to pick him up again tomorrow.”

“I know!” Davis felt a fresh wave of heat roll up his ears, annoyed that she was picking apart his words tonight of all nights. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”

“I have no reason to feel guilty.” She folded her arms and sank back, eyes settling on the kitchen where DemiVeemon’s ears were casting shadows up the wall from the light of the open refrigerator. “He’s fine, just – dammit, Davis.” A heavy sigh billowed her lips, then: “You and I just got back together, what? Three days ago? And between school and everything, you and I haven’t had time… We needed a night like this.”

It was true. This most recent “break” of theirs had been a rough one and longer than any previous up to now. Almost an entire two months had passed where they barely spoke a single word to each other, only interacting when strictly necessary for Digimon matters, or the occasional late-night message over their D-Terminals.

Davis slumped back too.

“Tonight was a good night.” He said lamely.

She just nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute as DemiVeemon finished rummaging for food. He eventually waddled past them back to Davis’s bedroom, a warm bowl nearly as big as he was balanced on his head. All dreams of boats forgotten for the time being. Whether or not he had heard the beginning of their spat, Davis wasn’t sure. Regardless, he now wished his partner had stayed to break some of the tension that hung heavy in the room.

What he really wanted was another drink.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Instead, he lurched forward, propping himself on one arm as he reached over Yolei. She opened her mouth, ready to rebuke him again, until he reached past her and snatched the clunky laptop that sat on the end table.

It was five pounds heavier and just as many years outdated for anything Yolei would have considered satisfactory, but Davis had got it for a good price in a resale shop and desperately needed a computer for school. He grunted as he settled back in his seat and flipped open the lid, determined to find a way to break the awkward silence.

“Can I – um, play some music?”

He was already scrolling through his rather extensive music library, not waiting for an answer, but Yolei nodded anyways.

“Just no dub-step, please for the love of God.”

He chuckled and something in her chest unwound. He eventually settled on something, and with a double-click the room was filed with smooth guitar and steady drums. They listened, Davis nodding his head in beat and Yolei watching him.

“The speakers on that thing are awful.”

“Yeah.”

The song transitioned, adding more varied guitar and aggressive vocals.

“I haven’t heard this one before.”

“Ken showed it to me.”

“It’s good.”

“Yeah.”

As the song started to fade, Davis reached, without looking, and rubbed a line up and down Yolei’s thigh. She unfolded her arms, but before she could move further towards him, he was lifting the laptop from his lap and moving it into her’s. He stood up.

“Gotta take a piss.” He muttered, trudging towards the bathroom, tripping over the same pair of cleats as he went.

Yolei watched him leave, long nails tapping on the plastic laptop chassis. After the bathroom door closed and she heard him emptying his bladder into the toilet through the thin wall, she sighed and began flicking through his music.

She had gotten a little too defensive earlier and she knew it.

The truth was, she did feel a little guilty for parting ways with her Digimon, even if it was only for a night. Despite the lack of crises in the Digital World needing their intervention, it sometimes felt like she was shirking responsibility by turning more attention to other aspects of her life.

But she was older. She was busy – they all were.

Breaking up with Davis a few months ago had been a mistake, a rash decision after a stupid fight.

Drawing a good night out by coming home with him and arguing tonight had been a mistake. The wounds from the breakup were still fairly fresh. They couldn’t exactly just pickup where they left off.

Hell, maybe getting back together had been the mistake.

She wasn’t even reading the list of songs anymore as she scrolled. Her ring finger tapped a little too quickly on the arrow keys and the music program locked up from overestimation. Grumbling, she tapped more—even though she knew better—and the window was suddenly minimized, and then she was confronted with the egregious mess of folders on Davis’s desktop.

What immediately caught her eye was the folder labeled ‘Sexy Sexy Sexy’, and with that, any thought of innocently returning Davis’s music library vanished up in smoke.

Eyebrow quirked, she clicked and opened the oddly-named folder without hesitation. Of course she knew that most every guy had that particular folder stashed away. Having it on the desktop was definitely bold though.

What she saw though almost made her guffaw, and she struggled to steel herself.

The folder contained pictures upon pictures of different styles of ramen, most likely purloined from some high-end bistro’s online menu, judging by the nearly indecent high quality and their tiny watermarks in the corner of each. Nearly every photo was accompanied with an adjacent text document, containing what Yolei astutely guessed were Davis’s attempts at parsing out the recipe by looks alone.

This ramen folder was probably more organized and cared for than the one he used for homework, and a quick visit back to the desktop and to a directory simply dubbed ‘hw’ confirmed this.

Yolei glanced at the bathroom door. Things inside had gone silent, but if history and the number of sliders he ate at the bar were reliable indicators, Davis would probably be preoccupied for a few more minutes. She had plenty of time.

Yolei cruised through the rest of his desktop in record time, finding nothing of note outside of a few folders containing game roms, a second folder of his own home-brewed ramen recipes, and much to her surprise: an alarming amount of digitized Shoujo manga, definitely pirated. She filed that away for teasing ammunition later.

Now, to find the really good stuff.

Her practiced fingers danced over the keyboard, running a shell command to search for recently accessed items. Buried in several sub-folders was one entry that caught her eye, a single folder with a timestamp indicating it was opened just an hour or so before he’d picked her up for their date earlier that evening.

The folder was named ‘yolei’.

A swirl of emotions flooded her as she opened the file with her namesake, and she found it was a dumping ground of yet more photographs.

Instead of gratuitous snapshots of food however, they all featured her.

Yolei immediately recognized a series of selfies she’d sent him herself – some as early as when they had first started their on-again/off-again relationship years ago. It had never occurred to her that Davis would be the type to save them anywhere but his phone. It was surprisingly sentimental of him.

An image of Davis lying in his bed, clicking through and lovingly studying a slideshow of her, sprung to mind and she felt a warm swell of affection for him. She had done something similar on occasion, when their respective university work had kept them apart for multiple days on end.

There were other styles of pictures too. As she scrolled further, she found photos they had taken together at her high school graduation ceremony, shots of them at a beach trip, and one from her recent birthday where he’d tried to wrestle her face into the cake. She couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

She came to a stop at one photo in particular, the image’s age betrayed by how grainy it’s quality was.

They couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Davis was round-faced and grinning in the middle, one arm slung over Ken to his left and the other over a mildly miffed Kari. T.K. stood on Kari’s other side (Yolei had forgotten about that silly hat he used to wear) and on the opposite edge stood Yolei herself, all spindly limbs and thick, round glasses—stained brilliant white from the flash of the camera.

Their Digimon partners stood huddled around their feet and Yolei felt a fresh pang when her eyes fell on Hawkmon.

She scrolled further, perhaps more quickly than necessary, but then came to a screeching halt.

“Bastard.” She hissed, an angry blush spreading across her cheeks.

“What?” Davis had somehow exited the bathroom and was halfway back to his seat. Yolei had been so engrossed in her recent discovery she hadn’t even heard him flush.

Without missing a beat, she twirled the laptop around and pointed the screen at him accusatory.

“What the hell is this?”

To his credit, Davis had learned since the gum smuggling attempt in his youth that it was best not to lie when he’d be caught.

“Oh,” His mouth formed a perfect O-shape. Now he was blushing too. “I can explain-”

“You better!” She rattled the laptop at him, the hinge wobbling dangerously. “I told you to delete these, Davis!”

It had been her one demand when they had broken up most recently. He had listed several himself, including the unconditional return of the multiple sweater-shirts she’d swiped from his dorm. She considered this a devastating blow, as they made the perfect sleeping shirts in her opinion. But to be fair, he actually needed them more than she did, his winter wardrobe being sparse as it was.

“I did delete them!” He shot back.

“Oh—that is so obviously not true.” She flipped the laptop back around so she could look at them again. The photos were definitely there, present and accounted for, completely not deleted. Her eyes were flashing as she glared back up at him. “Why did you keep these?!”

“Look, you specifically asked me to delete from my phone,” He explained. “And that’s what I did.”

“Oh, so you thought you could keep these on a technicality, huh?”

“We’re back together now so why does it matter?” He threw his hands in the air. “They’re not even that bad of pictures.”

“They’re disgusting.”

Davis chose not to argue with that. Certainly most of the photos could be construed as less-than appealing.

His laptop currently contained the only copies in existence of seventeen candid photos of Yolei, caught in various stages of sleep, sickness, and general foulness.

It had started as kind of sweet. On one of the nights she had slept over he’d woken first, and had snapped a quick picture of her face as she slept rather serenely, messy hair splayed over his pillow. When he’d showed her the picture later, he’d called her beautiful. She made a show of rolling her eyes, but smiled and blushed all the same.

For the second photo, he’d caught her while she was trying to subtly pick her nose.

It had kind of snowballed from there.

“Why were you even going through my laptop anyways?” He demanded in turn.

“I was looking for music.” Yolei turned her nose up matter-of-factly.

“In my pictures? Yeah, Right.”

“You’re missing the point.” She waved her hand as if his words were a fly buzzing by her ears. “This is a major breach of privacy.”

“Now that, you’re right about.” He stepped forward finally and reached for his laptop, but she pulled it to her chest.

“I mean my privacy, you jackass.”

“I took those, so they’re actually mine.”

“But they’re not pictures of you, are they?” She looked down, scrutinizing one of her in an unseemly, homemade guacamole facemask, filename: ‘she-hulk’. She had seen all these pictures before at one point or another, usually accompanied with some gentle ribbing at her expense, but seeing the collage now felt entirely different. “Davis, how could I ever trust you again? You promised me that you’d get rid of these.”

She was right of course, and that caused the words to sting all the more. Davis was near a hundred percent sober now, but his vision still blurred. Hot tears of shame, and a heaping dose of frustration, pricking his eyes. He fought and managed to keep his voice level, mostly:

“Yeah, well... how am I supposed to just go around like it’s nothing when you could be sniffing through my drawers every time I turn my back?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

A half minute passed where neither said anything. The music from the laptop was still playing passively, shuffling through Davis’s library automatically and currently playing some upbeat video game OST Yolei didn’t recognize. Eventually he moved and sank down onto the futon with her again, a few inches of space between them, and both their eyes settled on the gallery of photos still on display on the glowing screen in Yolei’s arms.

Davis remembered telling his friends oh so recently that he and Yolei were back together. Tai and Izzy had exchanged a quick glance, a silent exchange of barely-contained, mild exasperation. He imaged them placing bets on how long he and Yolei would last this time and pictured money exchanging hands when he broke the news that they were surely once again parting ways-

“That was the most sick I’d ever been in my entire life.” Yolei muttered suddenly, indicating one of the pictures. “I literally thought I was dying.”

He chuckled despite himself.

“Your nose is so red there.”

“Yeah, the tissues from I-Mart were like sandpaper. They still are.”

“Red looks good on you though.” Their eyes met then, and Davis continued quickly, stammering slightly. “I mean, not many people can pull off crimson flight pants, but- um… you did.. for years.”

Her face had an unreadable quality to it, and it seemed as if she might respond with something, but then she turned away and began scrolling through his computer again. He noticed her eyes weren’t focused though and he didn’t have it in him to try and dissuade her from searching still. There was nothing else to find anyway.

“Why do you even have this folder?” She asked, eyes forward.

He debated with himself for a few seconds, then decided on the truth.

“I like… having photos. You know, of you.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And when we broke up last time, and you told me to delete all those ugly pics of you, I did.” Yolei’s mouth opened to object, but he continued before she could interject. “I really did. I honestly just forgot that they were on my laptop with everything else too, and when I saw them later, I just… couldn’t get rid of them.” He stared at her profile, tracing with his eyes the lines of her cheek, the bump on her nose. “I really thought this last time was the real deal.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think we should break up again?”

“I don’t know.” Even though they weren’t quite touching, Yolei felt him stiffen by her side. She closed her eyes, and said her next words to the blackness of her eyelids. “I don’t want to.”

He breathed out, the air leaving him as if released from a balloon.

“God, me neither.”

She twisted on her seat, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry for looking through your laptop. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay.” He responded quickly.

Yolei continued anyways.

“If I’m being honest too, I was looking to see what kind of porn you had saved on here.”

“What?” Davis balked. “Seriously? Why would you think I had… that stuff… on there? I don’t even…” He shook his head, the image of incredulity. “I don’t even watch that.” Yolei watched him steadily, a single brow raised. “What? I don’t!”

“Sure. We’ll talk about that some other time.” She was only half teasing.

The promise of ‘some other time’ bolstered his spirits quickly. He eyed his laptop in her hands, suddenly loathing the pathetic thing and how he’d used it to hide away the secret vestiges of what he had once thought would be all that remained of his and Yolei’s relationship. She had owned up to her transgressions.

What he needed to do was apologize.

Standing, he pulled the laptop from her slack grip before she could argue, and looking her dead in the eyes, gripped each half of the computer and snapped it in half along the hinge. The music died with a pitiful wheeze and splinters of plastic flew everywhere, a few bouncing off Yolei’s glasses to disappear into the fibers of the rug at her feet.

“Davis!”

“I shouldn’t have kept those pictures.” He discarded the broken halves of the computer, speaking passionately. “I want us to start over fresh, okay? I don’t want any dumb secrets or anything like that to cause any problems. I want you to trust me, because I trust you – I really do.” He swallowed hard. “I still love you, Yolei.”

Her eyes shone and laughter bubbled in her throat.

“But you computer-”

“I needed a new one anyways. You can help me pick one out!”

“Yeah, but,” She wiped her eyes clear. “What about all the other pictures? My graduation, the Digimon?”

“I still have those on my phone, no worries.”

“And your homework?”

“My homework?” It took a second for Davis’s brain to catch up. His eyes passed from one broken piece of the laptop to the other, then his hands rose to bury themselves in his hair. “Oh shit, shit. My mid-term paper is saved on there...”

Yolei wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, but instead she reached out and pulled him to her. She gently unwound his fingers from his hair and twined them with hers. She kissed him and kept pulling until he was climbing onto the battered futon with her, then over her.

In the morning, she would take off the back panel of his broken computer and pull the hard drive. She’d help him recover his homework and maybe, just maybe, a couple of the more agreeable photos that she would allow him to keep.

For now though, he didn’t need any of the digital keepsakes. As far as either of them were concerned, any number of pictures paled in comparison to the real thing.

For now though, she held him close and breathed in his ear.

“I love you too.”

When DemiVeemon bounced back into the living area sometime later, he found the pair asleep and huddled under a blanket together on the futon. The small Digimon took in the mess on the floor, the couple’s mussed hair, their slow and steady breaths, chests rising as one. Of course, he had heard every word of their argument from Davis’s bedroom, but he was used to the ruckus by now and too preoccupied with his noodles to care. Anyways, no doubt there would be many such squabbles in the future for him to witness.

He decided to let them sleep for now and bounded to the kitchen in search of a mid-night snack. He would just have tell Davis about his dream some other time.

#digimon #davis motomiya #daisuke motomiya #yolei inoue #miyako inoue #daivis/yolei #daiyako #demiveemon #my fanfiction

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imakeficrequestsandthendisappear · 4 years

Text

headcanon for the end of TUA (klaus is going to die)

(tw for what could be interpreted as suicidal themes. i don’t intend for it to be that, but it’s worth mentioning now)

((i have no facts behind this theory or any source material to support it, it’s just something i think fits thematically))

Basically i think Klaus is going to die, but more complicated than that. I have a lot of klaus headcanons where his powers would allow him to transcend into the afterlife from the living world. we see it briefly in when he talks to god in season 1. But i think eventually he would be able to travel there at will (like my Orpheus post).

So the end of TUA comes and theyve got to wrap everybody’s arcs up (or theyll kill everyone Toy story 3 style). like they probably aren’t going to be superheroes forever and will have to go their separate ways. like Five would take over the commission (i don’t think he would, but thats an example how his arc started and how it ends. Five is in conflict with the commission (and time itself) from the beginning, so his ending is coming to peace with it)

But Klaus’ arc is still a little unclear. his character arc is the main focus, how he changes post-vietnam and post-time travel in season 2. but his story arc kind of meanders around the season. (probably cause 7 individual story arcs is a lot for a show)

For reference: character arc is who they are. Story arc is what they do. (they mix and mingle, but usually we can see the differences) story arc is more about plot. character arc is more about themes. story arcs are actions that lead to culminating events, usually in service to the greater plot of the show (Five’s conflict with the commission is a story arc, that has great effect on the plot). character arcs are experiences that lead to character growth/change (Klaus going to vietnam, coming back, getting sober to summon Dave, is a character arc)

So Klaus’ story arc hasn’t mattered so far in the grander plot of the show (so far). going to vietnam didn’t really have a plot significance to season 1, besides that it got Klaus sober for the final few episodes. the cult in season 2 ended up being kinda useless in the storyline, and meeting young Dave didn’t really have a plot significance either (and was kinda clunky with it’s character arc too).

I think robert sheean summed it up best in that behind the scenes clip where he says “Klaus’ arc in this last episode is running through the snow” (i’m paraphrasing). because none of Klaus’ story arc was significant to the plot of season 2, so he kinda didn’t have anything to do besides just be there at the final battle.

And I’m not forgetting that Ben left around this time too. Ben and Klaus’ arc was kinda put on the back burner up until then. there’s still a lot of unfinished thoughts in that arc, so i hope it is addressed in season 3. but Ben’s departure doesn’t play into Klaus’ story arc as much as it could (in terms of his powers or actions) but it did effect his character arc (that scene with vanya in the car).

But anyway, we are approaching season 3 with no clear story arc for Klaus to follow through. some new elements will be introduced of course, but lets look at the story elements we have so far:

Klaus is born with his powers >>> Reginald puts klaus in the mosselum >>>> klaus develops a drug addiction >>> klaus gets sober to better control his powers >>> klaus can now make ghosts corporeal and use them to fight

(i’m sure that you want to add other events in this, but I think this is the bare-bones story arc, excluding character arc experiences. these are the events that directly relate to the overall plot of the show)

So from here, i think the next obvious step is that Klaus will start developing his powers even more, and discover new abilities (we all want a klaus fight scene). but after that there’s kind of no map for further story arc. it depends greatly on the plot of season 3+.

But after this long build up here is my headcanon.

when the show ends, klaus is going to die. but not like he gets killed. I think he’s going to cross over to the afterlife with his powers, and stay there. by his own choice.

((this is the part that might read vaguely suicidal, but i really really don’t intend it that way))

Klaus’ story arc is about his conflict with his own powers (all the siblings arcs are this way. Five vs. Time. Allison vs. Truth. Diego vs Heroism. Luther vs. Power. Vanya vs. no powers) (ben is an unknown variable, but for season 3)

Klaus vs The afterlife: It is an intrinsic part of who he is. He is traumatized by it. he tries to escape it. he confronts it. he uses it.

And inevitably, he has to come to peace with it.

So at the end, what would that look like? well he’s avoided it for so long, to his own detriment, that the final step would be to accept it.

And I want to make this super clear: This does not mean i think Klaus deserves death or should be killed off by the writers. Death doesn’t mean non-existence in this case (which is what it usually means in narrative). There is an established afterlife in TUA, and Klaus’ powers allows him to access that afterlife.

So Klaus crossing over is less like literal death, and more like moving on to a different plane of existence. a metaphysical transition, not a lights-out gone-forever death.

And perhaps Klaus doesn’t “belong” in the living realm, in the way that he is always spiraling into dysfunction and self-abuse. he has never felt at peace in the living world (as far as the show shows).

I’m reminded of those fairy tales where a fae is found and raised by humans (or vice versa) and as they grow, they resent their differentness, and never feel like they fit into the world they are in. only when they find the place they belong, do they accept themselves. this trope exists in like every culture is remade a lot (from moses to tarzan)

So Klaus is the fae figure in this analogy, and the living world has adopted him, but it’s not where he belongs. and maybe the return to the afterlife will give him the self-acceptance and inner peace he needs.

And maybe visually we see the little girl god, og ben, dave, etc. the people who are on the other side, waiting for him. And maybe Klaus can dip into the living world if needed, because powers. but overall, the end of his story arc is to cross over.

(this was way longer than it meant and i haven’t done a hard-core character analysis/close reading in a couple years, so my terms and definitions are a little wonky)

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua shitpost #tua headcanon #klaus hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #character analysis #i didn't read the comics #but the show has its own arcs #so i think its fair #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #not really #but ya know #kinda sad post #tw character death #tw death #tw death mention

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terriblygrimm · 3 years

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ohmygod finally someone who shares my views. my sister and I loved fatws for what they did w sam’s character but aside from that the writing was very bad. we really could not understand wtf was bucky’s purpose to the main plot and what new side of bucky did we see. when the action wasnt happening he kept whining about steve and being rude to sam and then marvel thrust sambucky onto us and basically told us to move onto this Brand New Duo. sam and bucky were not on equal footing here and their personal struggles did not hold equal weight at all (i will give credits to anthony and seb here for making their friendship look believable) mcu keeps sidelining bucky and i thought they would do him some justice in this show but they didnt. after reading the articles and interviews post the show it was evident the writers did not understand bucky’s character at all. his whole character development was moving on from steve and now becoming sam’s sidekick? (also im really hoping and praying these writers dont go through with sarahbucky in the future because…no..absolutely not). and i do hope that what you said about a future steve bucky reunion comes true because so far mcu has been very hellbent on erasing their friendship and its just pathetic that they try to undermine their friendship so much, while weirdly enough also emphasizing that yes it has deep emotional value.

yeah like, i’m gonna try to make this as succinct and short (lol) as i possibly can without going off on tangents but tf.atws should’ve been SAM’S show. sam alone. he should’ve been the only title character, and they could’ve properly focused on his arc and the sociopolitical weight of it. that is MORE than enough content to fill up 6 hours. i absolutely love cap!sam and i think he’s gonna be a great captain america. i’m very much looking forward to his future.

but virtually everything else about this show from conception to film was a miss.

the flag smashers? (really marvel? your military propaganda perked its ugly ass head with this one. within the first five minutes of the show they were condemning ppl who believed in a world without borders lmfao. i legit almost stopped watching right then i’m not kidding) and the storyline itself wasn’t even coherent. they had WAY too many characters and arcs to focus on and it just.. didn’t work. didn’t do any one of them justice. not even their title characters - especially their title characers. the whole thing felt very hollow and emotionally remiss. the barely existent dialogue was clunky and awkward, and i’m sorry but.. to me, sam and bucky do not organically get along lol. the chemistry between the actors is undeniable which is why so many ppl ate it up, (and do i think they could eventually get along? yes) but the buddybuddy thing was pretty forced imo. very sudden and based on very little.

their stories were at odds, with not one common goal between them all the way to the end. they fought for screen time and it caused both of their stories to suffer and not carry the weight they should have. they both had VERY heavy content to work with (a black captain america / a trauma/abuse/pow survivor) but somehow marvel - in true marvel fashion - did not commit to either and tried to tread lightly on both.

bucky and sam only had the thin thread of steve woven between them & even that was done poorly because the writers themselves admittedly weren’t told what happened to steve, therefore they couldn’t write a definitive arc about it. and instead of actually committing to the deep bond between he and bucky, they took the no homo route and had bucky express anger over who holds property of the shield, rather than admitting it was steve himself that he emotionally and physically missed. but again, they couldn’t really do that, could they? they didn’t know if steve was alive or if bucky knew of his whereabouts.

i’ll admit i did enjoy the peripheral concept of bucky helping steve pass along the shield, like he was its watcher, making sure steve’s legacy fell in good hands, and was there to basically coach sam along the way. in THAT regard alone, it did feel like he and steve were still a team post-endgame. that, on top of saying that he and steve discussed the future of the shield together was a sweet touch. loved that, but it was executed poorly like everything else.

& his winter soldier arc... lordy, was that handled horribly. bucky is a charming, gentle, burdened, lover-not-a-fighter (since the 40s) victim and they turned him macho, carrying the burden of his abusers and guilted into making amends? and that his problems were his fault because he couldn’t trust people? say what now? bucky is a pissed off, good-hearted war vet with a LOT of baggage- he’s not just some dude. the effort to butch up and patch up bucky in a quick fix was apparent, from the short hair, to the list of names, to the “man up” approach everybody came at him with, to the really out of place heterosexual flirting. i mean honest to god who the has time to flirt? apparently bucky! none of the other characters even passed a sideways glance to another during the entire series aside from the one character who audiences have been vocal about being queer for 10 years. hmmm.... (and then the writers actually CAME OUT & MADE A POINT TO SAY that they did not intend for his bisexuality lmfao i mean please dear god put us out of this misery. that writer/director need to stop talking because nobody cares about their personal opinions or headcanons. media is for the viewer to interpret so please shut up.)

overall the actors did what they could w that script, that much was obvious- and they certainly tried to stay as true to their visions/versions of the characters as they could but it just didn’t end up matching up.

but yeah, on a lighter note, i sincerely don’t think they’ll continue bucky in sam’s sphere. i think that was a one off. i don’t think they actually wanted to sell them as a “new partnership” but they just didn’t know how to write the dynamic properly. i think tf.atws was just a sad, sad attempt to place them somewhere post-endgame so they can continue on in bigger marvel films. sam’s got his cap4 and his new team (torres, sharon, walker), and i think i read he’s gonna make an appearance in black panther? which will be sooooo awesome!!

and bucky? his ending was very open, what with him miraculously “feeling better” yet not quite the white wolf, and not permanent in any place. and on top of that, he was instructed to stay away from wakanda so he can’t make future appearances there, so methinks he and steve will cross paths again as nomad and white wolf for sure (once it’s revealed what steve’s been doing, etc). maybe in space?

the power that holds anon.... i get so excited even thinking about it.

#ask #anon #i always enjoy commiserating w others 😂#but truly aside from how bad tf.atws was i think both sam and bucky are onto bigger and better things #i just think it was a really awkward placeholder / the development they needed to push so they can serve other future purposes

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kckenobi · 4 years

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Author Interview Game

Ahh thanks for the tag @pandora15 and @giggles-and-freckles!

Name: Kasey

Fandoms: primarily Star Wars right now! Of course there’s been others I’ve dabbled in over the years, but Star Wars is my steadfast ride or die lol.

Where you post: I post my longer, more involved fics to ao3, and my short stuff from prompts on tumblr. I feel like I consider my ao3 as a portfolio of the fics I put the most time and effort into, and tumblr is just for fun and fulfilling prompts.

Most popular oneshot: Shelter!

Which cracks me up, because while I totally loved writing it, it’s so self-indulgent and kind of plotless lol—basically some classic sickfic, where Obi-Wan and Anakin are trapped in the briefing room while Obi-Wan has a migraine. I’m glad people like it!

Most popular multichap: Roots is my only multichapter fic lol, so it’s the most popular by default. But yikes there are some things about Roots that make me bigtime cringe now (mostly my misguided thoughts about what ‘attachment’ was before I got on tumblr lol, and my stilted pacing and clunky metaphors), even though it’s only been a few months since I wrote it—but hey, such is growth lol

Favorite story you’ve written: Ooh probably In Memoriam. It was the hardest one to write I think, and I remember having to really work for the pacing because there’s so much tension—like how Anakin gets more and more upset, and Obi-Wan is feeling sick but also wants to keep it together to figure out what’s bothering Anakin, etc etc. So trying to figure out the peaks and valleys and all that was a fun challenge.

I also have a lot of love for the fics @katierosefun and I wrote together, like loose stitches—that’s just been such an awesome thing to do, and they all have a special place in my heart!

Fic you were nervous to post: Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About! I’d never written Bail Organa before so I was worried about getting his voice right, and I was worried the Council scene was gonna be flat and boring, and I was scared of making Obi-Wan come across as too fragile, or the Council as cold and unfeeling.

How you choose your titles: they usually come from a line in the fic that points to the theme somehow. I almost always “find” my title as I’m writing—like there’s usually a moment where I write a line and go OH there it is—there’s the title! Either that, or an appropriate Taylor swift lyric lol.

Do you outline? Yup, almost always! I find it helps me beat writer’s block—my outlines are often almost like a really shitty first draft, like the whole story is there in detail, dialogue and all, it’s just super poorly written lol. But somehow it’s a loophole to my perfectionism, cause my brain goes “ah! It’s bullet points! So we’re allowed to write trash!” But gOD FORBID I try to write the first draft without bullet points or brain shuts off and threatens to never let me write anything ever again—

Complete: I have 27 fics on ao3, and I’ve posted somewhere around 24 just on tumblr. So technically 51 total, since I started posting stuff in April. (There’s also the tomb of my unpublished fic from before this year, when I just wrote for myself and didn’t share it, but I feel like those don’t count lol)

In progress: i just started working on a post-Geonosis fic where Obi-Wan as Anakin are both grieving in different ways and over different things. Anakin is helping Obi-Wan cut his hair when it turns into an argument which turns into a breakdown, which turns into some comfort and hugs and happier things :))) I’m also doing some requests, and a fic where Obi-Wan is having dizzy spells, but doesn’t tell anyone about them until everyone finds out in the most dramatic way possible lol

Coming soon/not yet started: waaaaay too many. I have a doc called “sw brainstorm and ideas” and it’s 15 pages of nothing but fic ideas lol. But the few I’ll probably get to soonest are here in this post :)

Prompts: I love taking prompts! Rn I have sooooooo many unanswered in my inbox. I was trying to write 2 per day this week, but I kinda got thrown off yesterday—things just got a little messier in the mental health department, and I needed to take a break from them to help myself feel better. I’m hoping to get back to them soon when I’m feeling a bit more myself, which I’m definitely starting to :)

Upcoming Work You’re Most Excited About: I’ve outlined a continuation of this fic, which I’m calling “Burial,” and it’s a 5+1 things of all the times Obi-Wan buried someone or something important. Also hype for this fic about Anakin giving Obi-Wan a haircut, and a surprise one involving....lit nerd Obi-Wan, my fave

No pressure tags: @lightasthesun @katierosefun @soplantyourownflowers @obirain @tessiete and any other writers who wanna jump on this!

#tag game

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ifeveristoday · 4 years

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well, that escalated quickly

The first card of the Major Arcana, The Fool is generally a positive card indicating new beginnings. If it appears in your readings it could mean that you are on the verge of an exciting, unexpected new adventure. Your new adventure will bring you along a path which may require you to make a leap of faith but you will grow as a result of this new experience. This new adventure could be a literal new adventure, like travelling to a place you’ve never been before. The change this card can bring will usually be a welcome one. While the Fool is generally a positive card, its appearance in a reading can also indicate that you need to take the time to look before you leap. [x]

Even when reversed, the Fool is an indicator of newness; as well as the purity and open-hearted energy of a child. This is generally considered a positive card, with the caveat that it's important to take time to be sure that you are "looking where you're going." In reversal, The Fool can show that there is a need for a new beginning, but that there is some hesitancy about making it happen. [x]

When the Fool card is reversed, you are encountering an unfinished side of yourself, a part still caught in the shadows of ignorance or immaturity. An emotional reflex or psychological attitude could be holding you back from responding authentically and naturally.

Release yourself from any dogmas or taboos so your natural truthfulness and instinct for right action can be restored. [x]

Light some incense and find a crushed velvet vest and let’s get to issue 16 of Buffy.

Spoilers, as always underneath the cut. Also long and semi-rambly so if you’re new to this tumblr...yeah.

Short version: There’s a thing I’m not sure I like yet, the usual layer cake of THEMES and how it all ties together, and good character stuff.

Wow. So they’re really going there with Buffy and Evil! Xander. But it’s not like the comic hasn’t left crumbs of a potential -- something happening between them. Vamp! Xander’s first confrontation with Buffy was a crude sexual come-on, which she rebuffed very quickly, and then when he had his soul, there was an ambiguous hug between them in Hellmouth. Xander’s feelings about Buffy have always been pretty clear.

And while I’m not thrilled that in the year 2020 we still can’t have a platonic relationship between Buffy and Xander (like, I joke about this being a Point to the reboot that Joss insisted on, but of course that’s just speculation. But come on. He totally would), it’s not like the comic was not giving clues, clunky though some of them may be. Buffy’s Slayer dream of Vamp! Xander and Vamp! Her, Robin’s oddly insistent interrogation of Buffy’s feelings for Xander, the dinosaur gift of Zeppo, and Buffy’s own ambivalence toward Robin as a real potential boyfriend.

Issue 14 (which I still haven’t written a thorough post about) showcases (not explicitly written as such, but the characteristics are there) a PTSD-afflicted Buffy, who has lost both of her best friends in a matter of weeks. She’s not on good terms with her mother, Giles is still weird after his descent into magically induced MRA-ness and not exactly comforting her, and having to accept the reality of Kendra being a Slayer as well. There’s a lot of anxiety, jealousy, and survivor’s guilt thrown in there as well, and we all know Buffy’s favorite thing to do when she’s going through a lot of pain: ISOLATE HERSELF.

And then here’s Robin, telling her he’s on her side and is a friendly face and Buffy seizes that emotional life line and decides, well if I can’t like myself (this is referenced in Issue 15), Robin will do it for me. It’s a lonely, but understandable grasp at something normal and not...the reality of her present life.

Except Robin realizes he can’t be Buffy’s emotional support almost-boyfriend, and that Buffy has a martyr complex where she can’t be just the hero but also the villain in her own story - she takes on all of the fault but none of the help and love that does exist in her life.

He tells her that one of her problems is that she just doesn’t like herself.

And it’s a hard truth for Buffy to bear but she admits it.

Issue 16 dips into Buffy’s mixed up feelings re: love and connection and the thread that ties it together is the tarot card Jenny pulls from her spread to read to Dolly, her cat.

Best reveal of the reboot so far, no I won’t take any objections. Her cat! Is named Dolly! Possibly after Dolly Parton, stealth producer of BtVS!

Jenny, lone human adult voice of Reason, pulls the upside down Fool and I’ve included three meanings of it up above. The reason why I think it’s a common thread for this issue is because in Buffy’s slayer dream where she’s riding Zeppo the Symbolism? What Symbolism Dinosaur with Xander (with some terrible punning), Buffy says that they can’t let Zeppo drive, he’s too young and doesn’t know how to get to where they’re going. Xander replies, “Do you even remember where we’re going?”

And prior to this Buffy worries that they’re going too fast and to slow down.

This could signify a number of things - definitely new beginnings with Evil! Xander and the changed nature of his relationship to Buffy, Buffy’s personal fear that she doesn’t know what’s happening, only that it is too fast, and the fact they’re both so young. And for the moment, Xander will forever be this young. And with his reputation as being the ‘funny’ one, Xander could also be considered a Fool.

He’s in a state of being unfinished - he’s never going to experience the trials of regular adulthood, the personal milestones a human being has. And Buffy is unfinished in that she’s not done growing up, but she is also the Slayer, which requires a level of sacrifice that other girls her age wouldn’t experience.

Jenny pulling this card - well, there’s the unfinished nature of her relationship with Giles, they’re broken up but still pining over each other, and the fact that she doesn’t seem to have stayed in touch with anyone in the Scoobies? And her only confidante seems to be her cat. Which, no judgement, cats are good listeners.

Dolly is also a good detector of Ye Olde Supernatural Bullshit, as she senses something bad behind Jenny’s all of a sudden visitor, and Hulk! Giles a few issues back.

It is of course, Xander, who is gleefully pleased that it was that easy to trick Jenny into inviting him in.

Fade into black- sort of, as the next step is Xander playing mind games via text.

Right after Buffy has her weird dinosaur dream, she tries to google meanings of it, as well as sending Willow texts in a long chain of non replied thread, updating her about what’s been happening in Sunnydale in her absence. I noticed she used a similar - “I’ll be here for you” in her message to Rose, and I think that’s Buffy’s way of changing. She wants to be there for her people, instead of avoiding them.

And she gets a text (Miss me?) from Xander, which prompts her to run to Giles and Kendra.

This is a neat(?) reference to how Xander got catfished by Drusilla when she texted him from Buffy’s phone. God, the way this sentence sounds out of context to an TV canon fan.

ANYWAY.

Buffy states that Xander died the night the Hellmouth closed, and they had a candlelight vigil and his parents barely leave the house - which makes me think while Hank Summers is a bastard in every ‘verse, Boom! has a good dad for Robin, Joyce and Eric for Buffy, and apparently good parents for Willow and Xander as well. Yay.

Kendra, who is more objective than Buffy and Giles can be regarding Xander, theorizes that Xander’s disappearance might not be death in a final sense, but rather his soul disappearing. Which causes the question, where has his body been this whole time? Also, I see that I Robot, You Jane easter egg, Jordie.

Setting Jenny’s house on fire, that’s what. Giles gets a similarly upsetting text on his phone, and they run to her house. Buffy and Kendra immediately throw themselves into save the cat (and Jenny!) mode and run into Evil! Xander. Quite literally - Xander grabs Kendra by the neck and throws her out of the window from the second floor - don’t worry, she survives.

We can’t be fridging the POC this early, after all.

Then it’s Xander and Buffy’s first glimpse of each other since Hellmouth, and standard enemy banter ensues - Xander says it’s just them and Buffy snaps that it’s only in his dreams. Then the staircase starts cracking due to the fire’s heat and Buffy’s thisclose to falling off when Xander grabs her, and in his human mask tells her that it could just be them together, if she wants it. Buffy takes Kendra’s advice to stop feeling and just think, and kicks Xander in a jump with both her feet aimed at his chest. Also she says she’d rather die than let that happen, which...I really hope aren’t famous last words.

The fool card flutters down and lands on Buffy’s forehead, reminding her that she’s on a rescue mission for Jenny. Who is nowhere to be found, but Dolly leaps into Buffy’s arms, and she carries her out.

Giles, Kendra and Buffy reconvene at Giles’s and try to figure out why Xander targeted Jenny.

Giles, who started the issue being a concerned mentor has grown smaller and less confident toward the end as he asks Buffy and Kendra to find Jenny. Buffy vows that they’re going to make Xander pay. Giles sadly agrees and then leaves to show Dolly the garden.

Let me pause a moment to cry about the fact that Giles is showing Jenny’s cat the garden.

Kendra and Buffy bond, sincerely, for the first time since Kendra made her appearance. Sister slayers, fuck yeah! Also, I love Kendra’s characterization and I hope she stays for a long time. And not die.

There’s a thawing there as each switch positions - Kendra tells Buffy it’s okay that she feels the way she feels, as Buffy tells her, no, she’s right, Xander isn’t the boy she knew, and to treat him like he’s just a regular vampire.

Then she admits she’s not sure if she misses Xander, or if it’s something else, to which Kendra replies, “I think when you know, you know.”

And Buffy asks her like her and Rose - and Kendra confirms it.

Just as Kendra’s words end the issue, Willow - who could be OG timeline Willow, or an Alternate Verse Willow, comes into the light and holds Rose’s hand.

DRAAAAMA.

So. Xander and Buffy heading toward something, Kendra/Rose confirmed, Giles has now adopted Dolly, Jenny’s status: Currently Unknown.

And Willow?

Though with the Fool, there’s that meaning of new adventures and travelling to a place you’ve never been before. That sums up Willow’s current journey so far.

#buffy comics #boom! studios #boom! verse #thoughts and reactions #spoilers #also i knew all those past tarot card covers and just the symbolism in the cards had to come back #unless it was all a neat coincidence

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hopeisour4letteredword · 4 years

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look through your textbook (cause i’m history) ch2

Content warnings: implied/referenced domestic violence

Summary: After dropping out, Yuri’s life is a haze of working and trying not to lose his damn mind. Then he meets Estelle.

Read it here or check the notes for the link to AO3.

Estelle spends a whole morning huddled down in front of Yuri’s clunky old laptop. He doesn’t have internet at his apartment right now, so they bring it over to the community center. Hanks helps her for a while, but soon the morning crowd trickles in, and duty calls him away. Yuri is banned from helping, on the grounds that he has no business advising anyone on how to interact with the police. He wishes he could do something for her, aside from repeatedly confirm that yes, he’ll be a block away the whole time; yes, she can still stay with him afterwards; yes, he will break into the station and whisk her away to safety if the police try any bullshit.

“I thought I told you to get away from her and not give any advice,” Hanks says, smacking Yuri away from Estelle’s side with the soft end of a broom.

“It’s not advice,” Yuri protests. “It’s reassurance.”

"Do n’t you listen to a damn thing that boy tells you,” Hanks tells Estelle, sternly. Estelle smiles nervously at both of them, eyes crinkled up despite the dark bags underneath them. She didn’t sleep much last night, according to Yuri’s creaky old box springs. That or nightmares, the way she was tossing and turning. It doesn’t make a difference which it was, really. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

What she’s doing is reading a lot of advice blogs and mumbling to herself about her rights. Just watching her raises the metaphorical hackles of Yuri’s protective instincts. Hanks has a point, though. The less Yuri is involved, the better. He keeps himself busy in the kitchen for the rest of the morning. At least he can be sure the chicken stock won’t try to coerce Estelle into returning to an abusive household.

After lunch, they pack up Yuri’s laptop and get ready to go. Hanks unexpectedly flags them down before they make it out the door.

“Be careful, you two. Yuri, you’re on your best God damned behavior, you hear me?”

“Sir yes sir,” Yuri says, dryly.

“Young lady, you take this.”

“Huh?” Estelle fumbles with the solid object he drops into her hands. “Your—your phone? But—“

“I turned off the password lock,” Hanks says. “And Yuri’s name is plainly labeled in the contacts. That should stop him getting antsy and bursting in because he thinks it’s taking too long. I imagine it’ll make you feel a smidge better, too.”

“Thanks, Hanks,” Yuri says. He doesn’t have the heart to brush this one off. It really does make him feel a fuck of a lot better to know Estelle will be able to reach him even if she can’t get out of the building.

“Mind you, I want that back, of course,” Hanks says, patting Estelle on the shoulder. She clutches the phone to her chest, wide-eyed.

“Thank you so much...!”

Yuri flippantly salutes Hanks, reaching for the door. “Alright, boss, I’m clocking out for now.”

“No, you aren’t; community escorts are on the clock. Same as it would be if you were taking her to a clinic. Don’t argue with me, son. You need to pay for that gas somehow. Get a move on.”

“A clinic?” Estelle asks, as Yuri shepherds her out the door and into his car.

“Planned Parenthood, usually,” Yuri says. He turns the key and the car rumbles angrily at him, put out that he continues to expect it to function. He gives the dashboard a consoling pat. “Or other reproductive health clinics. Anywhere you can get an ob-gyn. Family planning services. You get the picture.”

“I think I do.” Estelle endearingly turns with Yuri to check behind the car as they reverse, then pull out of the parking lot. Even his shitty car seems to be a novelty to her sometimes. “You do an awful lot for the community center, don’t you?”

“Mm. Yeah. No more than they’ve done for me, though.”

There’s a moment of silence where Estelle fidgets with the sleeve cuffs of Hanks’s jacket. Yuri keeps an eye on her in the corner of his vision, but he can’t get a very good look at her expression. He needs to focus on the road. The last thing they need right now is for him to break a traffic law or cause an accident and get pulled over.

“Can... can you keep talking?”

“Sure. Any requests?”

“Ah... tell me a story about you and Flynn?”

Yuri ends up telling her the story of Repede’s blind eye. It’s not too gruesome if he plays it right, and he’s got a bit of practice at that from curious kids at the center. Yuri was her age at the time—God, that was a weird thought—and he’d been new to dog-ownership. Repede broke out of the hovel he and Flynn called an apartment overnight. After hours of searching in the dark, Hanks had hauled them both inside by their ears and forced them to rest. Repede turned up on the doorstep the next morning, face horribly scratched and howling for all his tiny little lungs were worth. Yuri was terrified to so much as wipe him off, in case he made the wound worse. All he could do was bundle Repede up in the cleanest towel he could find. He didn’t have the car yet, so Hanks called them a cab and Flynn, stuttering with panic, had asked to be taken to the vet their Coach used to take Repede and Lambert to.

“So you’ve got these two scruffy, sleep-deprived teenage boys obviously losing our minds while trying to keep a grip on this bloody puppy that was just—I know it sounds wrong, for a dog, but really the only way to describe it is screaming,” Yuri says. He flicks his turn signal on. They’re getting close to the police station. “And the poor receptionist was trying to ask for Repede’s info, but we didn’t know what to tell her, because we hadn’t taken Repede to the vet before—don’t look at me like that, we’d only had him two months or something, it’s not like we skipped out—and all the sudden the vet comes out to see what all the noise is about, and he takes one look at us and he goes, ‘that’s Lambert’s pup.’”

“Lambert?”

“Repede’s dad. He was our fencing coach’s dog. Apparently the vet worked with Coach at ZU back in the day, although we didn’t know that until later. Anyway, he whisked Repede into the back and told us to wait in the lobby, ‘cause it wasn’t going to be pretty. I was flipping my shit, because, you know, we’d only been taking care of Repede for a little while, and the wound looked so bad I had convinced myself he was going to die.”

“Oh, Yuri.”

“I was also running on like two hours of sleep at the time, which may have contributed. Anyway, Flynn had to sit there for like an hour, literally holding my hand, telling me that Repede was going to be fine and everything would be okay. He was freaking out too, but he still babysat me while I lost my min d . It was fucking heroic. And we were covered in blood that whole time. I mean, the receptionist took us to a sink where we could clean up a little bit, but some shit is just there to stay unless you change clothes.”

“Ew.”

“Uh-huh. But after a while the vet popped back out and he was like, ‘your dog is fine, come see him.’ They had knocked him out and stitched him up all pretty. Funny in retrospect—I wish I had a picture. Repede was boneless. Puppy puddle.”

“Maybe Flynn has a picture?”

“I don’t think so. We were both too busy being relieved.” Yuri pulls over in front of the police station. Estelle is a rigid line of tension in the passenger seat. “Alright, princess. You’ll just have to get this over with and hurry back out to get the rest of the story.”

Estelle’s lower lip wobbles. “You’ll have your phone on the whole time?”

“Max volume. Texts and calls.”

“And I don’t have to go back. I can—I can still stay with you.”

“Long as you need.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“You’re gonna be A-okay,” Yuri says, firmly, “Just like Repede was. Look, you’ve got the beat-up face and everything. You have to be okay. It’s just cinematic parallels at this point.”

Estelle smiles, even though it doesn’t reach her eyes, as she clicks open the car door. “Where are you going to be parked?”

“You see over at that corner?” Yuri points down the block, through the windshield. “I’ll be at that convenience store. I’ll go in and buy a snack at some point so they can’t boot me out, since I’m a paying customer.”

“I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

“Sure thing.” Yuri holds his hand up to her. She stares at it blankly. “What? Come on. High five for good luck.”

Estelle slowly presses her palm against his and holds it there for a beat, looking at him dubiously. Yuri snorts.

“Okay, we’ll work on that one later.”

“Is this not—?”

“Nope, nuh-uh, this is a problem for post-police Estelle. Out you get.”

She puts Hanks’s phone into her pocket and slides out of the car. She gives Yuri another halfhearted smile as she closes the door, mouthing bye through the window. See you, Yuri mouths back. He doesn’t pull away from the curb until she’s all the way inside. When he does, he’s muttering curses under his breath.

Dammit. She’s going to be fine. Cinematic parallels. Estelle is a smart cookie, and she spent all morning preparing. She has Hanks’s phone. She’s a legal adult.

Yuri wishes he had brought Repede along. But there was a toddler read-along today at the community center, and Repede likes to lounge on the carpet between all the kids, soaking up their attention while he naps. It’s not like there’s anyplace close to the station where Yuri could be exercising with him, which is the only way he could justify it. If Repede isn’t getting a workout either way, he might as well do the one he likes better. Yuri’s the human here. He can suck it up.

He pulls into the lot of the convenience store and cranks the parking brake into place with more force than necessary. His forehead thuds against the top of the steering wheel, well away from the horn. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Estelle a Flynn story. Now he just fucking misses Flynn. He always does, has for the last few years, but now it’s sharp and immediate. He misses knowing that Flynn could take Repede out between classes when Yuri was too busy. He misses having his best friend there to tell him shit’s going to be alright. He misses Flynn being able to cheer him up just by being there, misses Flynn helping him do school shit even if it was too simple for him when it was stupidly hard for Yuri.

The problem is that it’s so easy to talk to Estelle about Flynn. Everybody at the community center drives him up the freaking wall treading on eggshells about it. They’re always watching him when Flynn comes up in conversation, waiting for him to snap and get mad. They only know scattered fragments of why Yuri and Flynn aren’t the same unit they used to be, but they know enough to be wary of bringing it up. Estelle, though. Estelle doesn’t know any of it. It’s bizarre to Yuri. They nearly physically fought the last time they saw each other, and Flynn told Estelle that Yuri is his best friend. Estelle will go, one time Flynn—and Yuri can go, yeah, that’s Flynn alright, did he tell you about this other time? And there’s no secret second conversation about whether Yuri’s about to go completely unhinged. It makes him run his mouth more than he should. He didn’t even tell Hanks that Flynn held his hand in the vet lobby while Repede had surgery. He doesn’t think anybody but Raven knows about that, if Raven even remembers.

If he doesn’t get a grip, Estelle is going to figure out a lot more about how he feels about Flynn than he wants her to. She’s not an idiot. Worse, she’s a romantic. She’ll connect the dots.

...Now he’s worrying about Estelle and missing Flynn and kicking himself over his shitty feelings again. Great. Fantastic. This afternoon is going just swell.

Yuri lets himself out of the damn car and goes into the convenience store to buy chocolate or something. He needs it.

Yuri is used to his friends just opening the door and hopping back in the car, so when Estelle taps on the window, he jumps about a foot in the air and almost hits his head.

“Sorry,” Estelle says, cracking the door open to peer in at him. “Can I—?”

“Yeah, get in,” Yuri says. She climbs into her seat and draws her knees up so she can wrap her arms around them, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Yuri watches her for a moment, then reaches past her to get into the glove compartment. “Hey. Here. Got you something.”

“Huh?” Estelle sniffles a little. Her eyes go big when she sees what Yuri is offering her. “Oh, you didn’t have to—“

“It’s convenience store chocolate,” Yuri says. He pokes her in the arm with it until she frees a hand to take it from him. “Not exactly a crazy luxury gift. I got the receipt if you want a different flavor, though.”

“No, this is good,” Estelle mumbles. She unwraps it, sniffling some more. “’M—‘m sorry. I know c-crying makes you uncomfortable.”

“That’s my problem. You worry about yourself.” Yuri crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat to watch her. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Th-they wanted me to go back.” She scrubs at her eyes. “I knew they would. It’s okay. I expected it. You were right, they couldn’t force me to do anything because I’m eighteen.”

“Still shitty, though.”

“Y-yeah.”

“They give you any other problems?”

“I had to argue with them about n-not telling my guardian where I was staying. But they said they would officially delist me as missing. That’s what—what matters.”

Yuri nods, slowly. “You just tell me if there’s anyone I should be running off the property if I catch them near the apartment, alright?”

“Ah. Okay.” She nibbles at the chocolate. “...Will you, um, tell me the rest of the story about Repede?”

“Sure. Lemme pull out first.” When they’re both seat-belted and Yuri has managed to exit the parking lot without running anyone over, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Where was I?”

“P-puppy puddle.”

Yuri huffs out a laugh. “That’s right. Poor Repede. Raven—that’s our vet—he gave us a bunch of antibiotics to give Repede, and talked us through what to expect during Repede’s recovery until he woke up. Once he was conscious they got the cone of shame on him. Only time he’s ever needed one, while we had him. Think he had one when he got fixed, too, but that was before we took him in.”

Estelle giggles wetly. “P-poor thing. Borzoi pups are all—all skinny, aren’t they? He must’ve been falling over with the heavy cone on his head.”

“God, you would think so, but Repede was a big boy when he was a puppy. Solid chunk of dog. He was like that even when Coach had him, so it wasn’t our fault for overfeeding him or anything . Probably the German Shepherd blood. They’re a little thicker than Borzoi pups. I definitely do have pictures of puppy Repede, I’ll find them for you when I get home from work tonight.” Yuri sifts through the memories and snorts fondly. “Didn’t help much with the cone, though. I don’t think losing one of his eyes was doing him any favors either. The first few nights after the surgery were terrible. He would wake up and try to get some kibble or water, and he’d knock over damn near everything in the apartment, so of course that would wake us up, too. Even if we managed to sleep through that, he would get frustrated and start crying. ”

“But you were already so tired!”

“Like I said, rough couple of nights. We ended up having to coordinate a schedule of who got up to deal with it at what times on what nights. Hanks kept telling us it was a practice run for having kids someday.”

Estelle cocks her head, more alert. “Kids? For you two, together? Flynn didn’t tell me—”

“No.” Yuri grips the steering wheel tighter and prays his cheeks aren’t red. “No, not together. Just in general. It was a bad joke either way—I’d make a crummy dad .”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You’re very nice to say so, but you’re also very wrong.”

Estelle gives him a thoughtful look. Yuri hurries on with the story.

“Anyway, giving him the antibiotics was probably the worst part. Raven gave them to us in a syringe at first, to squirt into his mouth, but Repede would lose his mind when we tried to open his mouth to give it to him. It was hard to hold his head still without aggravating the wound. So we tried switching to pill form and mixing them into his food, but the little brat would just pick them out and we’d find a little pile of them in his empty bowl after he ate.”

“What did you do?”

Yuri grins nostalgically. “Wrapped ‘em in bits of deli turkey.”

“Yuri!”

“Yeah, Flynn yelled at me too. He damn near killed me the first time I did it. Still, it was the only thing that worked, and we were too exhausted to fight over it. Repede would be so excited to eat the turkey, he wouldn’t realize there was a pill until it was too late. Flynn did get to say ‘I told you so’ a lot afterwards, though, because I’ve never been able to keep deli turkey in the house since. Repede is convinced it’s for him.”

“Can’t you just keep it away from him?”

“Nope. He’s a dog on a mission.”

Estelle smiles, small but real. Some of the tension has left her posture. Good.

“That whole ordeal is probably why Repede hates the vet, now, anyway,” Yuri says. He mentally plots their route back to the community center. He should have enough time before bartending to drop Estelle off and take Repede for a run.

“Maybe if you switched vets...?”

“Nah—I don’t think it’s just Raven, since he’s not very happy to see any of the vet techs, either. I guess it could be the location itself. Best vet within a convenient distance, though—if you ever meet Raven, don’t tell him I said that, okay? He’d be fucking insufferable about it. But he did us... a lot of favors, back then. Had to guide me through a lot of stupid first-time dog-owner stuff. Least I can do is give him my business.”

Estelle’s been looking out the passenger-side window, but now her head lolls against the headrest to face Yuri. “Hey, Yuri?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you talk about Repede like he was yours and Flynn’s when he was a puppy, but just yours now?”

“...Flynn’s pretty busy with school these days.” Too busy to be wasting time on some stupid drop-out. “I’ve got more free time, so I took Repede. He hasn’t seen Flynn in a long time. I don’t know if he would remember Flynn now.”

“You don’t have very much free time at all, though.”

Yuri cocks a smile with as much conviction as he can muster. “Yeah, because I’ve filled it all with Repede. It doesn’t really look like free time any more. It just looks like Repede time.”

Estelle is quiet for a moment. Just when Yuri starts to hope that she’ll drop it, she says, “You miss him.”

Yuri brakes maybe a little too sharply at a stop sign. Their seatbelts snap taught. Estelle yelps.

“Sorry,” Yuri mutters. “Noticed the sign a little late. Miss who, Repede? It’s true, I do miss Repede when I have to leave him for more than five minutes— ”

“Flynn. You miss Flynn, don’t you?”

Yuri tries to fast forward through all the different ways this conversation could play out in his head. What’s the answer least likely to swamp him with a discussion of his feelings and his current relationship with Flynn? If he tries to say no, Estelle might tell him why she thought he did, and he doesn’t want to deal with that kind of self-awareness. The truth is probably safer. “...Yeah.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“He got a new number at some point since I last saw him in person.”

“Wh—oh.” Estelle frowns a bit. “I think I remember when that happened. He didn’t give you the new number?”

“Nope. Probably didn’t have mine memorized, or something.” Or he just figured it was as good an excuse as any to move on to better social circles, and leave the squalor of his past behind. That’s what Yuri’s been betting on.

At least, it was until Estelle showe d up and started saying weird shit about how Flynn still talks about him.

“I could give you his new number!”

Somehow, that catches Yuri completely off guard. He glances over at her. “You have his number memorized? Wow, princess. I didn’t realize you were that into him.”

“I’m—“ Estelle splutters at him, red-faced. Yuri grins despite himself as he turns back to the road. “I am not! It’s not like that! I forgot I didn’t have my phone—”

“Uh-huh. I’ll start working on my speech for your wedding.”

“Yuri! I don’t like him that way! And that’s not even—Flynn doesn’t even like g—“

Girls. Estelle slaps a hand over her own mouth before the rest of the word can slip out. She looks at Yuri, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. Yuri considers messing with her some more, but decides to have some pity.

“Relax. I already knew Flynn was gay. I’m just screwing around.”

“Oh, good,” Estelle breathes, slumping back in her seat.

“Anyway, speaking of your phone, maybe we should figure out a plan to rescue some of your shit.”

Estelle wrings her hands. “...I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a good way to get into my old home without having to talk to...”

“ Don’t you worry,” Yuri says, cheerfully. He was just trying to find a way to divert the conversation away from Flynn, but he’s quickly warming to the idea. He doesn’t have bartending too late tonight. “I’ll take care of that. Just wait and see. You didn’t have any plans for tonight, did you?”

“This is illegal!” Estelle hisses. Yuri, halfway through the action of pulling himself over a brick wall, gives her an incredulous look. She’s been trying to dissuade him since they came within a few blocks of the property. Apparently Estelle is willing to stand up when people try to steamroll past her. She just picks her battles.

“How? I’m pretty sure you technically still live here, legally.”

“It’s still breaking and entering! And theft! ”

“Oh, wah wah wah. It’s not like we’re really stealing. It’s all your stuff.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works!”

Yuri snorts and pulls himself the rest of the way up, perched on the top. “Are you coming, or do you want to wait here?”

“I—I don’t want to start my new life with a criminal record!”

“So wait.”

“Yuri!”

“Relax, I’ve got this under control. Which floor is your room on?”

Estelle makes a high-pitched sound of aggravation and tries to scramble up the wall after him. She almost topples back down halfway up, and Yuri has to reach down to haul her up by the collar of Hanks’s jacket. The jitters probably aren’t doing her coordination any favors.

“What happened to not wanting a criminal record?”

“If I come with you so you know where to go, everything will be faster, and we can be done and leave sooner.”

“You can tell me where to go from here, you don’t have to be involved.”

Estelle gives him a sulky, anxious look. “I don’t want to—to just wait alone in the dark. What if someone comes by?”

“Hide in a bush.”

“Flynn and Hanks were right, you are a troublemaker.”

“I can’t tell you how flattered and alarmed I am that it’s taken you like a week and a half to figure that out.”

Yuri did sort of count on Estelle staying behind, although he gets why she doesn’t want to now that she mentions it. There’s no car in the driveway right now. What if her guardian comes back while Yuri is inside? Still, now he has to factor her into his entry and exit strategy. Damn. He should have just made her give him an address, left her at home and winged it from there.

“Okay,” Yuri mutters. He swings his legs over the other side of the wall and starts his descent. “Just... do what I do, alright? I’ll try not to do anything too crazy. Lemme know if you can’t keep up and I’ll figure something else out.”

“A-alright.” Estelle tentatively lowers her leg over the edge of the wall, searching for the uneven bricks Yuri used to get down. Yuri hops down the last few feet and gets under her, spotting her in case of a fall. It seems to help with the mental side of things, at least. Estelle stops trembling so much and plants her feet more confidently. Yuri whisks her off the wall when she gets as far down as he jumped from.

“I don’t suppose you know whether there’s any security cameras?”

“Ah—yes, but—but we’ll be able to see them, there’s a little light when they’re on.”

“You sure they’re not motion-activated?”

“Y...yes?”

Well, there’s only one way to figure out for sure.

They creep around the perimeter of the property. Estelle murmurs directions and notes about the layout of the property. Here’s the garden; there’s the shed, but that definitely has a security camera, so don’t go that way. The greenhouse doesn’t have a camera, but it’s locked. Estelle thinks it will be, anyway, and Yuri’s not going to stick his fingerprints on every random surface just for funsies. Back door to the kitchen is a no go, too. There’s a chance the housekeeper might be around. Obviously they’re not going through the front door.

“I...” Estelle looks at him sideways, wringing her hands. They’re crouched in the shadows of the small orchard on the far side of the house. “I never locked my balcony door? But it’s on the second floor. There’s a tree, but no branches until higher up—I don’t know if it’s...”

“Oh, princess,” Yuri says. “Have some faith. I will make it climbable.”

“M-maybe for you!”

But she still helps guide Yuri back around the house and points out the window. It’s dark, which isn’t surprising. Estelle hasn’t been in her room for at least a week and a half. They’re too close to the ground floor windows now to risk talking, even whispering, so Yuri just pats her on the back and hoists himself up on the nearest decorative garden statue. From the top, he leaps to grab a tree branch hanging ten feet off the ground. It’s a solid jump, there’s no getting around it. Estelle’s wide eyes gleam in the moonlight as she clambers up the statue after him. Yuri hastily climbs up to straddle the branch. If she gets a bad grip, he’s going to want to be stable enough to catch her.

She wobbles at the top of the statue and casts a fretful look at Yuri. Yuri’s not feeling so hot about this himself, really, but at this point all he can do is flash her a thumbs-up and lean forward, body pressed to the branch to extend his reach below it.

She jumps.

The tree shu dders violently. Estelle gasps. Yuri hisses through his teeth, straining to keep his grip on Estelle’s free hand. She managed to get one hand onto the branch, at least, but she’s scrabbling not to lose her hold. The longer this goes on, the less likely someone inside will be willing to write it off as a bird or a raccoon or something—honestly, though, with her fingertips sliding over bark, it seems more likely that she’ll plummet to the ground and break something.

But right as Yuri starts to seriously consider freaking out, she grits her teeth, stretches up with Yuri’s help to get a second hand on the branch, and somehow, somehow works her way up to sit beside him. It’s fucking impressive. Yuri didn’t know she had that kind of arm strength. She really is a determined little monster when she puts her mind to it.

From there, it’s not easy, but it’s easier. The tree is good for climbing once you’re on it. Estelle shadows Yuri’s footwork, even with her second-hand sneakers slipping where the traction has worn down. Yuri helps her swing out of the branches and onto the balcony. He reaches for the door. Estelle catches his wrist, shaking her head, and opens it herself.

Of course. Estelle leaving fingerprints won’t alarm anybody if someone investigates the break-in. Yuri should have thought of that.

Estelle’s room is cast in odd angles of shadow, but Yuri can still tell that it’s exactly as frilly as he expected. Gauzy pink drapes surround the bed. The sheets gleam like satin. The moonlight makes the carpet look snow-white. It’s horrifyingly clean, too. Yuri has never seen a carpet that looked less walked-upon than this one. For fuck’s sake, did they steam-press her carpet the second she left the house, or does it always look like this?

He glances at Estelle. She stares at the room like she’s never seen it before.

No, wait. She doesn’t look like she’s seeing it at all. Shit. Yuri didn’t think this through. He should have been ready for the chance that coming back here would make Estelle dissociate.

“Estelle,” Yuri hisses, as quietly as he possibly can. It’s rough. He’s not built for low volumes. He touches her elbow. “Estelle, stick with me.”

Estelle looks down at his hand, blinking sightlessly. Yuri jostles her a bit. That snaps her out of it. She shakes herself out, jaw clenching. Yuri passes her one of the drawstring backpacks he brought with him.

“What do I grab?” she whispers.

“Whatever you want.”

“But...”

“Irreplaceable family shit. Books. Any clothes you really like.” He holds up the other bag. “Just point me to what you want and I’ll grab it for you.”

Estelle’s face falls. “I can’t fit all of my books.”

“That’s what the library is for, princess.”

“I don’t have a library card.”

“I have some great news for you about public libraries, but we’ll save that for later. Come on, let’s hurry up.”

Estelle’s wardrobe is baffling to Yuri. Almost everything in it is nicer than the value of all of his clothes put together. To get to the clothes she wants, she has to shove aside a whole row of hangers with fancy dresses on them. Thank God she doesn’t seem to want to take those ones with her. She points him to her bookshelf, whispering, “As many as possible!” and tiptoes off toward an ensuite bathroom. The floor doesn’t creak a peep. Yuri’s not sure he’s ever been in a room where it was possible to move this quietly.

He gives Estelle’s personal library his full consideration, which is to say he stares at each title for about two seconds and tries to picture it in the Lower Quarter’s public library. If he can’t, he grabs it. Most of the fiction gets left behind this way, but he figures Estelle will forgive him once they get her a library card. It’s gonna be awkward if she’s no longer interested in hardcover nonfiction novels about the history of European mythology or what the fuck ever, though.

Estelle emerges from the bathroom again, clutching her bag to her chest. On her way back to Yuri, she stoops to retrieve a pair of sneakers from under the bed. They’re fucking pristine. Yuri has seen shoes in shoe commercials that looked more used. She peers at what’s left on the bookshelf. Yuri allows her to double-check his work with as much patience as he can muster, but it’s not long before he nudges her insistently again. She huffs but obliges, crossing over to her desk. She retrieves several notebooks, then hesitates. Yuri peeks around her. Her hand hovers over her phone.

“It’s your call,” he says. “But I wouldn’t put money on that not being tracked.”

“I know,” Estelle says, miserably. She reaches down to turn it on and Yuri winces away from the sudden illumination of the screen. “Oh, no... I knew everyone might worry, but this is...”

“Maybe they’ll figure it out when the posters go down.” Or they’ll think she was found dead in a ditch, but Yuri probably shouldn’t say that to Estelle. Oh, hell, maybe Flynn thinks she’s dead in a ditch. Yuri is intimately acquainted with how badly Flynn copes with grief. Maybe they should be looking into secret, safe venues of contact. It won’t be from Estelle’s old phone, though, because she gives it one last wistful caress and leaves it on the desk.

Somehow, Yuri gets them both back out the window, down the tree and off the property without making too much of a ruckus. They sprint back to the edge of campus where Yuri left his car. For a few minutes, Estelle is too busy wheezing to say anything, and Yuri is more than happy to drive them through quiet streets bathed in yellow lamplight in silence. He likes the cover of night. It feels safe. He appreciates that, after the luxuriousness of Estelle’s house up close showed him that he was in way, way deeper than he’d thought.

“Oh, drat,” Estelle says, abruptly. Yuri side-eyes her.

“What now?”

“I ought to have at least gotten my contacts out of my old phone. I wanted to get Flynn’s number for you.”

“Christ’s sake, Estelle. Don’t do that to me. I thought we needed to go back for something important.”

“No! No. That was—this is enough. More than enough. You shouldn’t have—and I mean you really, actually shouldn’t have. I can’t believe you made me into a criminal!”

“I don’t see how it’s breaking and entering and stealing if I escort a lady back into her old house to pick up her own shit,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. He does, in a clean-cut legal way, but it’s a stupid case to make in the first place. Everything they took was Estelle’s. Honestly, none of it seems to be worth much by itself. With a little luck, Estelle’s guardian or whoever won’t even notice that anything is missing until it’s way too late.

“It was extremely illegal!”

Yuri drops his voice several octaves to drone, blandly, “Your honor, the defendant is responsible for the theft of her own fucking notebooks, which have absolutely no commercial value and are basically useless to literally anyone else.”

Estelle laughs, once, sharp like she can’t help herself. She pushes at Yuri’s shoulder with almost no real force. “You’re awful.”

“Hey, no hitting the driver.”

“You didn’t even flinch!”

“I let you hit me, someday you’ll do it while Ted’s watching, suddenly Ted thinks he’s allowed to hit me and then we’ll all die in a fiery car crash.”

“You’re absurd.”

Yuri snorts. “You sound like Flynn.”

“I probably sound like everybody who knows you!”

“Absurd? Nah, that one’s all Flynn. Most people stick with ‘dumbass.’”

“Well,” Estelle says, primly, “I can’t imagine why.”

“Ouch,” Yuri laughs. He pulls into his apartment’s parking lot. “Right in the heart. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.”

They’re still sniping at each other when they exit the car and head inside. The banter keeps up all the way to Yuri’s door, but Estelle is definitely sagging before they’re halfway up the stairs. She drags her feet on her way across the threshold, dropping her bag of rescued possessions on the couch before she collapses in a pile on the floor, next to Repede. Repede lifts his head enough to sniff at her suspiciously. When she offers her hand, he licks it, then unexpectedly leans over to lick her on the nose. Estelle half-laughs, half-yelps.

“Yuck! Repede!”

“Aw,” Yuri says. He kicks off his shoes and leaves the bag of Estelle’s books with her other shit before throwing himself down next to her and Repede. Repede quickly turns to plop his head into Yuri’s lap, tail wagging. Yuri strokes his back. “You’re getting used to her, aren’t you, bud?”

“He’s a good boy,” Estelle says. She pats Repede’s belly. He huffs a little, but allows it. “Repede, Yuri told me all about what a brave puppy you were today.”

She traces her fingers across his muzzle to touch the scarred side of his face. He doesn’t react much—he never has, not since it finished healing.

“I wish I was as brave as you,” Estelle whispers.

“I told you,” Yuri says, uncomfortably. “Cinematic parallels. You pulled through, just like him. I didn’t even have to force-feed you your antibiotics.” To Repede, he adds, dryly, “Unlike someone.”

Repede, who is a dog and has no clue Yuri is shit-talking him, yawns widely.

“I wish I could be strong,” Estelle mumbles. Her eyelids are drooping. Her whole body is drooping, actually. She wobbles unsteadily, even sitting down. “I wish I could... could go back and talk to my friends and not be so scared. That I could just knock on the door and ask to pick up my things. I’m such a baby.”

“Estelle,” Yuri says, around the lump in his throat. He reaches out and catches her by the shoulders as she sways forward, then eases her down so her head rests on Repede’s side. She sniffles a bit. “Being afraid of an abuser doesn’t make you a baby. Sometimes running away is the brave thing to do.”

“It’s not like he hit me that often.” Her fingers curl into Repede’s fur. He whuffles anxiously. Yuri strokes his head, trying to give Repede the comfort he wishes he knew how to give Estelle. “I should have stayed. I overreacted. I’m so stupid. And now I’m causing you trouble, and...”

“Estelle, c’mon.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No,” Yuri says. He rubs her back. “It’s not. But it’s not your fault.”

“I should have...”

“You should get some sleep is what you should do,” Yuri says. He heaves himself to his feet, then crouches again to scoop Estelle into his arms. She buries her face against his shoulder as he lifts her. Shit, she’s heavier than she looks. He grunts with the effort. “Okay, princess? Let’s get you to bed. In the morning we’ll eat a good breakfast and go talk to Hanks, and you’ll feel better. It’s gonna be alright.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.”

He carries her to the bedroom and dumps her on the bed. She clings to his shirt when he tries to pull away.

“I d-don’t want to be alone—”

“Okay,” Yuri says. “Then let’s get you into some pajamas, and I can sleep on the floor in here for tonight.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I took you someplace that was shitty for you tonight. Of course you’re upset.”

Estelle changes while he brushes his teeth. Once he’s got on his own soft sleep shirt and old shorts, he flops down in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Repede curls up behind his knees.

“Thank you, Yuri,” Estelle mumbles, from under the comforter.

“It’s no problem. Wake me up if you need anything, alright? Anything at all.”

“...Okay.”

Yuri wakes up to smoke.

“The fuck?” he croaks. Repede sticks his head in through the open bedroom door, whining quietly. Yuri kicks his way out of the blanket cocoon he’s tangled in and staggers into the kitchen.

Ah. Estelle.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, wide-eyed and near to tears in front of a blackened skillet of what possibly used to be eggs. “I just wanted to—“

“Windows first, apologies later,” Yuri says. He yanks open the living room window, then grabs a magazine off the coffee table to wave uselessly through the smoke. Estelle coughs. “Damn. I forgot to change the batteries in the smoke detector.”

“A-are we going to—?”

“It’s fine, we’re fine. Go open the window in the bedroom, will you?”

Estelle hurries to obey while Yuri opens the kitchen window. The smoke isn’t as bad as it could be, given the apparent death of the detector. Seems like it’s already clearing out a bit. He picks up the spatula Estelle abandoned to prod at the lump of charcoal in his skillet.

“I wanted to make breakfast,” Estelle says, miserably, from somewhere behind him. “To thank you. But I messed it up.”

“Of course you did,” Yuri says. He scrapes at the skillet a little. It spreads charcoal around. “You haven’t ever cooked before, have you?”

“No...”

“You should have gotten me up. I could teach you.”

“But it wouldn’t be thanking you if I made you work more!”

“Yet here we are,” Yuri says. “Besides, I don’t need to be thanked, Christ. Open the trash for me.”

Estelle dutifully opens the cupboard the trash bin is stashed inside. Yuri pushes the less stubborn bits of charcoal into the bin, kicks the cupboard closed, then dumps the pan into the sink to soak.

“You do need to be thanked,” Estelle says. Yuri gives her an exasperated look over his shoulder; when he opens his mouth, she adds, hurriedly, “I want to thank you.”

“Well stop it,” Yuri grumbles. He goes into the cupboard for a new pan. At least the smoke is clearing out relatively fast. “Are there still eggs?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Alright. We’re going to give the smoke another minute to disperse, and in the meantime you can get a small bowl down for me and take the eggs back out.”

Yuri fucks off to find batteries. When he returns to the kitchen, Estelle is waiting anxiously with a small bowl and the egg carton. The air is only faintly smokey. Yuri grabs a chair and shoves it under the smoke detector.

“Crack the eggs into the bowl,” he says, as he clicks the cover off. “I’ll watch from here.”

“How many eggs?”

“Four.”

“You eat four eggs at once?”

“What are you going to have for breakfast?”

Estelle gives him a baffled look, like it hadn’t even occurred to her that she could make her own breakfast too. “I—I guess eggs?”

“If we have four eggs left, do four. If we don’t, I’ll just split whatever we have with you. We’ve got bread. We can have toast or something too.” Yuri sighs as he slides the new batteries into place. “I guess we need to go to the store. Shit.”

“I only used two eggs before,” Estelle blurts out. “We’ve still got five eggs.”

“Yeah, but I was gonna make shakshuka tomorrow.” Yuri puts the cover back on the smoke detector. Estelle finally, hesitantly removes an egg from the carton. She taps it lightly against the side of the bowl.

“Harder than that.”

“I’ll get egg everywhere!”

“You won’t.” Yuri climbs down from the chair. “You need a clean break to pull it apart, or you’ll get bits of shell in everything. Here, I’ll show you one.”

Yuri dumps the dead batteries into the garbage along with the still-faintly-smoking wreckage of the burnt eggs, then washes his hands. Estelle watches raptly as he plucks an egg out of the carton and snaps it against the edge of the bowl before pulling it cleanly apart.

“Like that. Now you—yeah, okay, that was a lot better. Now the next two.”

Estelle furrows her brow and does as instructed. She still gets a piece of eggshell in the mix, but nothing Yuri can’t fish out with his fingers. “Why are we using a bowl? Can’t it just go straight in the pan?”

“It can if you know what you’re doing.” Yuri shrugs, leaning his hip against the counter as he monitors Estelle’s dismemberment of the final egg. “For a beginner, though, it’s easier to make sure all of the eggs will go in the pan at the same time. Are we doing sunny-side up, or scrambled?”

“Uh—scrambled?”

“Okay. Let’s both wash the raw egg off our hands, then you’re gonna get the milk out.” Yuri towels off his own hands as Estelle opens the fridge, then reaches into the silverware drawer for a fork. “Just dump in a little bit.”

“How much?”

“A little bit. Like I said.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“Well, I just eyeball it. Here, I’ll do it the first time so you can see. Just—this much, about. A glug.”

“A glug,” Estelle echoes, side-eyeing him dubiously.

“A very precise measurement,” Yuri says. He flashes her a grin and hands the milk back. “Put this away.”

Salt and pepper to taste and whisking the yolks into the whites, at least, Estelle seems comfortable with. While she does that, he dumps some cooking oil into the new pan and turns on the heat.

“You’re a good teacher,” Estelle tells him, as she carefully pours the beaten eggs into the skillet. “You should teach classes.”

Yuri snorts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I don’t have the patience for teaching as a job.”

“But you do!”

“I’ve taught stuff for the community center occasionally. I know I’m not cut out to do it full-time. You’re an angel of a student compared to most people, princess.”

Estelle tries not to visibly preen at the praise and mostly fails. Yuri laughs. “Here, grab the spatula. What you want to do now is—“

“You could’ve gotten her in a lot of trouble.”

“I told her she could stay behind.”

“Yuri.”

Yuri sighs. Estelle is on the other side of the community center, helping some of the kids with their homework. Yuri has to leave for the bar in ten minutes, and he was starting to think he might escape without the lecture, but no such luck. “Hanks.”

“Boy, what am I going to do with you?” Hanks sighs too, leaning back in his chair. “I thought you would have grown out of this by now.”

“Sorry,” Yuri says, snippy and insincere. “Really shitty of me to want her to have some of her own stuff that she likes again.”

“You know that’s not what the issue is, son.” Hanks rubs his temples. “You’re too impulsive. What if you had been caught? Forget Estellise. What do you think would have happened if someone had caught you?”

Yuri shrugs. “Nothing good.”

“And you still did it?”

“It was a calculated risk.”

“Your damn calculations are off.” Hanks scrubs a hand through his beard and fixes Yuri with a tired look. “I wish your old coach was still here. You were always better behaved for him.”

Yuri’s stomach drops. Hanks seems to realize his mistake as soon as he makes it, hastily opening his mouth again, but it’s too late for that now. Yuri is already shoving his chair back, the legs screeching on the floor. Estelle looks up from the other side of the room; Yuri sees her in his periphery before he turns to the door.

“Yuri?”

“I’m going to work,” Yuri gets out, through gritted teeth.

“Yuri, come on—“ Hanks tries. Yuri strides away without looking back. He shoves his way out the community center’s doors. There’s a quick patter of footsteps behind him, but it’s not Hanks’s gait, so Yuri forces himself not to lash out when someone catches him by the arm before he can get in his car. Estelle blinks up at him with her big green eyes.

“I thought you had a few more minutes.”

“I’m leaving early.”

She chews on her lower lip. A little guiltily, she admits, “I told the children you would do a knife trick for them if they finished their homework.”

Against all odds, that punches a short bark of laughter out of Yuri. He feels a little of the tension go with it, but the damn ache in his chest doesn’t go anywhere. “They’ll have to do their homework tomorrow, too, then. Tell them I’ll do two knife tricks to make up for it.”

Estelle beams at him. Her hand is still resting gently on his arm.

“Are you...” The smile slides off her face. “Are you upset? When you left, it seemed like...”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Yuri says, too sharply. Estelle’s face falls further. God dammit. Estelle is the last person who deserves Yuri’s ire. Trying to speak more softly, he adds, “Hanks chewed me out and I got mad because I’m secretly twelve. That’s all.”

“It didn’t look like you were mad about being lectured,” Estelle presses. Yuri swallows down a bitter sigh. He doesn’t want to talk about Coach in the middle of the community center’s parking lot when he has to drive to work in five minutes. He doesn’t want to talk about Coach at all, really. Estelle has enough baggage of her own without trying to unpack Yuri’s.

“I don’t really want to get into it right now.”

Estelle still looks a little hurt, but she nods. Her hand drops from Yuri’s arm as she steps back.

“Hang on.” Yuri digs into his pocket and fiddles with his keyring, then holds a fist out to Estelle. “Here. Gimme your hand.”

Estelle complies, her wounded expression melting into curiosity. Yuri presses a set of keys into her open palm.

“Take these. You can just go straight back to the apartment instead of having to wait for me to finish up at the bar.”

Estelle stands up a little straighter, with her mouth a little o of shock. “Are you sure? Is that really okay?”

“Sure. What’re you gonna do, rob me?”

“Well, I—I could! Hypothetically!”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Right. Just take Repede for a long walk in the evening before you steal all of my shit, then. And I’m gonna need you to let me in or leave the door unlocked when I get home.”

“Okay!” Before Yuri can do much except fight down the reflex to throw her across the parking lot, Estelle launches herself forward to wrap Yuri in a hug. Yuri grunts in surprise, arms trapped. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s your apartment too, for now,” Yuri says. He manages to wriggle a hand free to pat her on the head. “We’ll get a second key tomorrow or something. I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you!”

Yuri waves as he drives off. It’s—an odd feeling, almost distracting enough that he stops feeling so nauseated. He’s taken on down-on-their-luck guests before, but he’s never given them his fucking keys.

Well. That’s the power of Estelle, he guesses.

#fluri #Estellise Sidos Heurassein #yuri lowell #tales of vesperia #long post #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In #still no flynn just yuri Pining

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starlightments · 5 years

Text

Perfect Fit

written by starlightment

In honor of today being Julance’s “Garrison Trio” day, I thought it’d be appropriate to finally post the fic I wrote for @cosmicdustzine! Featuring everyone’s favorite underdog flight crew :’)

Lance stares miserably into his bedroom mirror. Tilts his head to one side. Then the other. Blinks. Shuffles his feet, and wiggles his fingers. Blinks again.

His reflection, naturally, does the same.

It’s too small, he decides at once, and he’s right. The crisp, perfectly starched cuffs of his brand new Galaxy Garrison uniform barely reach the middle of his wrists. Lance supposes this is what he deserves for waiting up until the final deadline to place his size order. And for that unforeseen growth spurt over the summer, stretching him out at least an extra three inches.

Great, Lance thinks again, tugging at those godforsaken sleeves. He’s too big for his uniform, and too big for this bedroom, with its rocket ship bedsheets, and mason jar full of seashells, and the sleek mahogany acoustic his dad just got him for his fourteenth birthday. It’s a young boy’s room — not a cadet’s.

And yet, here he stands, wide-eyed and garishly orange. The program starts in a month. Textbooks have been purchased, and dorm assignments have been given out, and Lance still feels like this is some big fluke. Like a glitch in the system. Like he doesn’t fit.

But he has to fit.

When his grip unfurls, the fabric of his sleeves spring back up his wrists. Useless. He twitches, and pouts, and squirms, and just keeps staring until he realizes some time has passed, and he hears Rachel banging on his door, yelling at him to come down for dinner.

His reflection, naturally, does the same.

* * * * * *

On the very first day of classes, Lance gets lost on his way to Aviation 101, and wonders, darkly, if this is the Garrison’s sick, watered-down version of hazing. Weed out the weaklings who can’t even navigate these convoluted halls, let alone entire solar systems.

He curses at himself, vehemently, schedule sheet wrinkled in his sweaty clutches, all the way to the North Wing.

The lecture has already begun by the time Lance finally stumbles through the door, breathless and mortified beyond belief. He slips into the back row all by himself because it’s not like he has any friends he can cozy up to just yet. So far, the only person Lance has had the so-called pleasure of meeting is his roommate — a smug-looking kid named James, who actually had the audacity to laugh when he caught Lance pinning posters of star constellations and the Cuban flag over his bed — and it’s not like Lance would’ve wanted to sit by that guy, anyway.

“McClain,” his instructor — a gruff and notorious hard-ass by the name of Iverson — shouts from the front of the room.

Desks creak and chairs squeak as every single head swivels around to gawk in Lance’s direction. He slithers down in his seat, pretends not to notice how their eyes burn straight through his skin.

“Y-Yes, sir,” he whimpers.

“McClain,” Iverson says again, narrowing his beady eyes. “As in Veronica. Correct?”

Lance swallows around something thick and bitter inside his throat, and manages to get out another feeble, “Yes, sir.”

“She was in my class for her first year, too. One of our brightest minds,” the man goes on. “Hardworking. Responsible. Diligent.”

“Yes, sir,” repeats Lance, just a pathetic shiver of sound.

“It’s a shame that not all good traits run in the family.”

From somewhere near the front row, someone snorts out loud, and Lance feels every muscle, every bone inside his body shrivel up into nothing. He bites down on his lip until he tastes blood, balls up his fists until his nails dig into skin, and holds his breath until he can’t feel the sting of emotion pricking the corners of his eyes anymore.

Then the class resumes, just like that, and Lance feels left behind, tugging roughly at his sleeves.

* * * * * *

Stupid, Lance’s mind chants in a rabid frenzy as he bursts into the second-floor men’s restroom. Stupid, stupid, stupid —

With his big, clunky, perfectly-regulation boots squelching against the tiled floor, he all but throws himself into one of the empty stalls, slamming the door shut so that it rattles on its flimsy hinges. He sits down on the toilet lid, face buried into his trembling hands, and he thinks, resoundingly — god, this is low. This is the lowest of the low. Pathetic. Disgraceful. And so, so stupid.

Stupid for the knot in his throat, and the tears streaking hot trails down his cheeks. Stupid for the ache in his chest that throbs like the swollen tides of home. Stupid for thinking he could find his place here, amongst a school of brilliant minds and skilled prodigies, who look at Lance as if they can smell the inferiority on him like a billow of smoke. Stupid for hiding behind a uniform that isn’t made for him. Stupid for wanting to call his mother, and tell her he’s sorry because he needs to come home, and he needs to keep his dreams out of the stars, and he’s scared that he’ll never, ever make her proud.

A sob writhes its way past Lance’s lips, quivering and quiet, but he clamps down on it, hard, knowing that if he starts he might not be able to stop. So, sniffling, his fingers grapple at the toilet paper dispenser, pulling at nothing but a bare cardboard roll because — of course. Naturally. He’s seconds away from resorting to his sleeve as a tissue when he feels something soft and timid nudging at his ankle.

Lance resists the embarrassing urge to jump or gasp in surprise, and, instead, glances down to find —

A hand.

All plump, brown skin with fingernails that look like they’ve maybe been nibbled on. It’s reaching out from the next stall over, offering a wad of crumpled up toilet paper.

Lance stares at it, dumbfounded.

“Not to be an eavesdropper here, but, uh… just in case you need some —”

“Um, thanks,” says Lance, snatching the handful of toilet paper, and — damn, could he sound more wrecked right now? It has to be painfully obvious that he’s locked himself away in here to bawl his eyes out, like a loser. And this guy is just too polite to point it out. Part of Lance is grateful for it, but most of him is just downright humiliated.

The hand disappears, and Lance dabs silently at his eyes and nose before clearing his throat, and trying again: “Sorry, man. I didn’t think — I thought I was alone in here.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” the guy tells him a bit breezily. “I wasn’t even gonna say anything — just kinda let you, y’know, do your thing. But I would’ve felt pretty bad leaving you hanging, so.”

“Thanks,” Lance repeats.

“Sure, dude. Anytime.”

Silence. Lance counts his breaths until they start coming out even, and his neighbor must be able to hear it, all ragged and strangled, because suddenly he’s piping up again.

“So, uh — bad day?” he wonders tentatively.

Lance hiccups around some sad excuse for a scoff. “The worst. Iverson basically ripped me a new one in front of the whole class.”

“I accidentally hit my engineering partner in the head with a wrench, and then puked all over my instructor’s shoes.”

“Wow,” Lance croaks. “You win.”

They both chuckle weakly, and Lance feels something loosen slightly in his chest.

“Yeah, could’ve just been first day jitters,” the guy goes on, “or it could’ve been that mystery meat casserole from the cafeteria. Man, I would kill for some of my mom’s home-cooking.”

“Aw, man, don’t even remind me,” groans Lance. “Now all I can think about are garlic knots.”

“Ooh, or burritos.”

“Mac and cheese —”

“—And pizza!” they end up exclaiming at the same time, which promptly spurs them into a bout of unbridled laughter. Lance’s cheeks rise and brighten beneath the tear stains.

“My name’s Hunk, by the way,” the guy says eventually.

“Lance,” he replies with a wet, happy sniffle. “Y’know, we should just order a pizza sometime. It definitely won’t beat the stuff from home, but it’s better than nothing, right?”

Hunk sighs longingly. “I’m down for anything that’s not grey and swimming in lumpy gravy.”

And Lance can’t quite explain it, but he feels something settle — in the air, in his mind. And he feels, for the first time all day, like maybe things won’t be so awful, after all.

* * * * * *

The next time Iverson screams in his face, Lance takes it like a champ.

Well. Kind of.

“I hope I don’t need to remind you,” the man sneers, nostrils flared, jaw clenched, “that the only reason you’re here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out.”

Lance shivers down to the bone, hairline dappling with sweat, legs going numb beneath him, but he does not break — and, right now, he considers that a win. He remembers all the times he could’ve — and did — and then allows himself a fleeting swell of pride at how far he’s come. He stands here now, slightly older, taller, newly steeled. Still clawing and searching for something to hold fast to. Something that fits.

The next squadron of cadets file into the simulator, and Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are shuffled to the back of the line again. Their pace is heavy and slow with shame. And, in Pidge’s case, rage. Every muscle inside her tiny body seizes up, standing on edge like an electric jolt. Lance, perhaps unwisely, reaches for her elbow.

“So that was pretty wack, huh —”

She jerks away, sharply and at once. “What’s pretty wack is that they actually let an idiot like you sit in the pilot’s chair.”

“Hey, look, we’re supposed to be a team here,” Lance argues. “If we go down, we go down together, got it? So don’t shove all the blame on me just ‘cause you couldn’t handle my skills!”

“Well, those supposed skills of yours are the reason why we crashed!”

“Guys, guys, c’mon,” Hunk pleads, stepping between them. “Can’t we just agree it was kind of a group effort fail? I mean, this is exactly what Iverson is talking about. If we can’t learn to work together, then there’s no hope for us.”

Arms crossed, and lips pouting, Lance heaves a weighty sigh, and admits, “Hunk’s right. This calls for some emergency bonding time. I’m talkin’ drinks, ladies, a night out on the town — the works. How about we —”

“Whatever you’re planning, count me out.”

Pidge turns, and starts stomping toward the exit with Lance on the pursuit.

“Dude, get a grip,” he calls out to her. “After a day like today? What you need is some fun. A night to loosen up with your pals —”

“I’m not here to make friends!” is what she flings out, whirling around to pin him with a glare that pierces like a bullet. And Lance feels it, stopping dead in his tracks, stunned from the stinging whiplash of it all. Then, her voice lowers, slipping past her gritted teeth: “Especially not with some arrogant prick like you.”

She storms off, and Lance — older, taller, newly steeled — still does not break.

But, damn, if it doesn’t hurt.

* * * * * *

The stars look different out here.

But, then again, drifting out into the endless abyss of deep space is a very far cry from standing on Cuba’s silken shores, with the dark sky hanging overhead, spreading its glitter over the ocean’s rolling surface. There were some nights, Lance recalls, when the sky was so clear, he swore he could reach out and touch those shivering bits of starlight until he could feel them burning his fingertips. Every twinkling light, so close and intimate.

Now, he sits in the center of the Castle’s control room, with his legs outstretched and his neck craned back, staring at the swirling cosmos just beyond the glass barrier that surrounds him. Here, he’s never been closer to the stars. Or farther from home.

Behind him, the door whooshes open. His eyes drift lazily over his shoulder, then back again. Pidge lingers in the doorway. “Hey,” says Lance.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, eyes tracing foreign patterns across the sky, “so I thought I’d do some stargazing — but none of these constellations are making any sense to me. Guess we really are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

A pause. Just the quiet hum of the crystal that gleams down from the ceiling, and then:

“Shouldn’t you be resting, too?”

Pidge straightens, looking a bit caught. “Oh, I’m just — couldn’t sleep either. But I didn’t think I’d run into anyone else at this hour,” and there’s a smirk in her voice — just a subtle one — as she adds, “Least of all the guy who never stops complaining about needing beauty sleep. Whatever that means.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be as beautiful as me,” sniffs Lance, and maybe it would’ve been a more effective retort if he weren’t donning his robe and blue lion slippers at present. But still — he stands by his quip.

Chuckling, the sound of Pidge’s footsteps pad closer and closer until she’s lowering herself next to Lance, knees tucked into her chest.

“Man, it never ends, does it?” It’s just a whisper, just a breathless afterthought that he mutters into the pause of their words, as if he weren’t speaking to anyone in particular but himself. “It’s kinda freaky, right? Like, putting everything in perspective. The galaxy’s this big honkin’ thing… and we’re supposed to defend it? Couple weeks ago my biggest responsibility was getting my homework done in time, and now it’s like —”

“Everything’s changed?” guesses Pidge, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, almost ruefully. “But just think about it. I mean, you’re way more help out here than you are back home doing homework and stuff.”

A haunting cavern of his mind wonders: but am I, really?

And, oh, Lance hates how quickly these unsolicited negativities gather inside his head, smothering his thoughts like a dense fog. If he could shake himself free of them, he would, but there’s something about sitting here — beneath a vast skyscape of planets and moons and sparkling nebula — that makes him feel exponentially smaller than he ever thought possible. Just a flicker of life, tragically outshined by every star in the galaxy. For the briefest of moments, he idly wonders if Pidge ever feels the same way, but — no. Of course not. Not someone with an invaluable brain like hers.

So Lance swallows it all down, through the dryness of his throat, and mumbles a faint, “Sometimes I think they picked the wrong guy, y’know?”

“They didn’t.” Her response is immediate, and takes Lance by surprise. He tears his gaze away from the sky, and stares at Pidge in the half-light, eyes blown wide. “And you proved that the other day when you helped take down Sendak, when you saved Coran —”

Her words spark flames along his skin — tiny pricks of memory that converge and bloom around his shoulder blades, where a starburst scar now mars his flesh. The brand of a newly fledged soldier. Something even hours in a healing pod couldn’t take away from him.

“You put your life on the line for us, Lance,” she tells him firmly. “You could’ve died. You could’ve —”

All at once, she turns away, pressing her face into her knees.

Lance blinks, speaks soft. “Pidge?”

“Just —” she grumbles, sounding muffled and choked up. And when she eventually glances up again, it’s to furrow her brow, and shove at Lance’s shoulder until he nearly topples over. “—just be more careful next time, you big dummy, okay?”

Lance takes one look at her glossy-eyed gaze, and laughs, deep from his stomach. His arm flops around her tiny frame, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, clinging to the soft fabric of his robe, nestling against him.

“Aw, squirt,” he coos, while the universe glows above their heads, “you do care.”

* * * * * *

Somehow, he finds himself on a beach.

Which instantly strikes him as odd because, last he remembers, they were all lifting that crazy robeast straight into the stratosphere, and then nosediving right back down to Earth, bracing for impact, but — okay. Beach. Lance can roll with that.

Below him, the sand is rich and butter-soft between his toes. Behind him, waves lick the edge of the shoreline in a gentle, rolling rhythm. And all around him, thick summer heat clings to his skin, swarming him all at once.

And there, right before him, is home.

His home.

That small, idyllic cottage by the water hasn’t aged a single day, it seems. The same wispy white curtains frame every window. His abuela’s antique rocking chair still sits out on the wooden deck. His mother’s laundry still hangs out to dry on the clothes line, fluttering in the crisp ocean breeze. He can still hear the giggles of his nieces and nephews, and see the same tree branch he fell out of and broke his wrist when he was eight. It’s like he never even left. It’s like —

Lance takes a slow stride forward, and then the entire house goes up in flames.

Burning. Raging. Destroying.

“No,” Lance tries to say, but no sound comes out. He watches in sheer, debilitating panic as the roof collapses, crumbles, caves in on everything he’s ever known. The smell of smog fills his lungs, chokes him until his throat is raw and there’s blood on his tongue. Another silent scream rips out of his chest as he starts to run, but the sand is suddenly sinking below him, swallowing him whole, dragging him under, under, under —

Then Lance wakes up.

He sits up with a gasp on his lips, and a shudder in his heart. The stark white bedsheets are wrinkled in his iron grasp, the thin fabric of his hospital attire sticking to his spine, slightly damp with perspiration. Eyes darting back and forth in the darkness, Lance can feel his breath returning to him at last. He’s still here. They really did it. Earth is safe. Everyone is safe. It was only a nightmare.

It takes his mind a delayed second to catch up to reality, and, in that time, the lights flicker on. Lance squints, startled, as something small, fast, and wiggly scurries onto his bed, and then starts panting in his face, licking his cheeks.

“Bae Bae!” Lance laughs, squirming and writhing happily against the bull terrier’s show of affection.

“Well, look who’s finally awake!”

That’s when something else small, fast, and wiggly leaps onto Lance’s bed, but this something is decidedly Pidge-shaped. As Bae Bae scampers around by his feet, Pidge throws her arms around Lance, and he responds with a quiet ‘oof’.

“Jeez, give a guy some warning before you koala attack him outta nowhere,” grunts Lance.

Pidge only squeezes harder. “Nope.”

“See, Pidge? Told you the smell of pizza would wake him up.”

Then, from the doorway, Hunk comes marching through with a grin on his face, and about three pizza boxes stacked in his arms. Bae Bae rushes to greet him first, jumping and yipping around his legs.

“Hunk, my hero,” cries Lance, pressing his palms together, and throwing his gaze to the ceiling. “My savior! The greatest paladin of them all!”

“The pineapple one’s all yours, buddy,” says Hunk.

“Gross,” snorts Pidge.

It takes them no time at all to devour all three of those pizzas, even sparing a few slices of pepperoni for Bae Bae to enjoy. It’s with Hunk on the edge of his bed, and Pidge curled up to his right, and melted cheese on his fingertips that Lance finally feels at peace. It’s with a brimming heart, and a satisfying warmth in his gut, and a smile splitting his face in two that Lance thinks — this.

This, he thinks again with profound momentousness.

This fits.

#star writes #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #garrison trio

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