#and my mom and i instantly started pointing out how there’s SO many factors to take into account as to why they landed in one place over

[spaceshipkat]

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[xaibaugrove]

Everyone in the Krew is Problematic

I was inspired to go on this rant by someone who recently brought up a question in a server I’m in, asking why so many people in the fandom seem to hate Mako and Makorra and why. This wouldn’t be the first time I defend Mako and it most likely won’t be the last, but it might be the first time I tear him and everyone else in the Krew down in the process, only to bring them back up. Hear me out though.

I think I’ve totally accepted that a lot of people in this fandom will always hate Mako and that I will have to perpetually defend him, I understand that this is the relationship I’ve chosen with this world. But what I still will never understand are the reasons why people hate/dislike him because compared to how much they love other characters in the Krew who honestly aren’t that much better than him (in some cases, even worse!), it doesn’t make any sense.

Let me also preface this by saying, I love these characters with all my heart and soul, probably more than I should love fictional characters, but this is the life I live and with that being said, I am going to tear them apart just to prove a point. Okay, here we go.

MAKO

Most of his detractors list the usual criticisms, which are valid when isolated. He cheated on Asami, he lied to Korra, he was a terrible boyfriend and essentially he treated the women he claimed to love or care about horribly. Gee, it’s almost like the man was a teenager with no experience in having long-lasting, healthy relationships and was raised in the streets by gangmembers while doing anything to survive and provide for his younger sibling after seeing his parents killed right in front of him and suddenly being orphaned…

I think Mako has been torn down enough, so I won’t get too deep into the tearing down part for him. It really does baffle me how someone can claim to be woke and not comprehend how someone coming from poverty could possibly be a product of their environment. Like, does everyone think that poor people automatically have hearts of gold and turn out like Little Orphan Annie? Why are people surprised that when someone has a shitty life, they might do shitty things?

Also, sooo many people love Zuko, who actively tried to cause harm to Aang, Katara and Sokka numerous times, and sympathize with his troubled past. But like, sure Zuko had an abusive father and his mother peaced out of his life for whatever reasons but at least he had his uncle. Mako had his parents for maybe 8 years before they were murdered in front of him and then had...no one for the next 10 years? Except for Bolin, sure, but no other parental figure in his life. Dude literally had to become him and his brother’s own parent and joined a gang to survive, and after all that, the worst he does is acts as a bad boyfriend toward Korra and Asami and he is instantly thrown to the wolves. Something doesn’t add up. It’s just...I don’t get it.

Yes, the way he treated people was bad, but people can grow? That’s a thing humans can do. And he was a teenager, my god. No, we cannot allow our past to be an excuse for how we treat others, but we have to be aware that there is a growth process to being human. And being human in and of itself, isn’t pretty. You think Mako is problematic? Don’t get me started on your fave.

KORRA

Ok, I love this woman to death but she is ridiculously problematic. She pursued someone in a relationship and essentially forced Mako to cheat on Asami by kissing him against his will, that’s already pretty awful and shows a lack of empathy on her part, also kissing people without their consent is no bueno. But also I just have to say it for the people who might not know this. One of the fundamental reasons why Makorra didn’t work was because KORRA WAS ABUSIVE. Okay? It wasn’t just that Mako was inadequate at relationships and didn’t know how to people, it wasn’t that she was secretly confused and wanting Asami the entire time (biphobia at it’s best) one of the main problems in the pairing was that Korra was crazy abusive towards Mako. Seriously, why don’t I see this more often in those discussions??

If we need examples, I have dozens. Honestly, it’s really easy to see how terrible Korra was to Mako, I’d actually argue that she treated him worse than he treated her. I mean, they were both terrible to one another, but in Korra’s case she went through the motions of being completely infatuated with your first teenage crush, getting with said crush, then crashing and burning once you realize that you have no idea how to treat a romantic partner so after the butterflies wear off you subject them to all the wonderful aspects of your anger issues. Not only did she scream at Mako during every argument they had, she also threatened him with bodily harm if she got really angry. Remember how their relationship crashed and burned in Book 2? Here are the things that Korra did during that time. Let me reiterate, this was not okay.

Mako is visibly shaken by this!

This woman burst into her boyfriend’s place of work and violently kicked his desk out from in front of him with all his coworkers present. That is not normal behavior. That is a red flag. And after she came back, had amnesia or whatever and forgot they broke up after that scene, let’s not forget that Mako was legitimately Afraid to break up with her again. Korra made her partner frightened that they might suffer bodily harm if they upset her. Again, and I can’t stress this enough, this is not okay!

The little scene in Book 3 when Korra is lifting Mako like 100 feet off the ground with airbending while he’s screaming in fear just to make Asami laugh is cute, right? I’ll admit, I loved that little moment too, it’s one of the only instances of Korrasami development that we got, but also, there were sooo many things wrong with that scene lol. Not only does Korra terrify Mako for literally no reason, it’s also sort of just her continuing to exercise some degree of power over him for her own amusement. Almost like a subtle reminder to him saying, “I am stronger than you in every way and I can break your femur like a twig if I wanted to… but I won’t, so look how much fun we’re having!”

Now of course, there are reasons why Korra acts like this. She was isolated for almost her entire life and never learned how to treat people and be around people. The Avatar is human because they must live amongst the people they protect and that helps them develop empathy and cherish life. The White Lotus deprived her of that fundamental aspect of her duty as the Avatar and it showed throughout the beginning of the series. Clearly, she was young, didn’t see how her actions could negatively affect others and hurt the feelings of not just her partner but also friends and family (she was really awful towards a lot of people in her life!). But as the series went on, we see her having less outbursts and learning to control her temper more.

One can only assume that she does not have the same behavior with Asami because for one, I don’t think Asami would play that shit, she seems like she would electrocute a bitch in a heartbeat and not hesitate if needed, but also Korra is not the same shitty partner she used to be as a teenager. Again, kids do stupid things. Adults do stupid things. And we learn and we grow. Korra will probably make some more mistakes in her relationship with Asami. I don't think anyone can have one bad relationship and suddenly learn all the lessons they can from it and have a perfect one the next go around. I can totally picture Korra losing her temper and raising her voice at Asami if she gets frustrated and forgets who she’s dealing with. Managing anger issues is hard, I know this from experience, and it doesn’t magically get easier. Of course, if Korra does pop off, Asami would definitely put her in her place because she’s a bad bitch who doesn’t take anyone’s shit, next character.

ASAMI

You know her, you love her, you fantasize about her and you probably have her on your list of fictional characters you would totally bang if you had the chance (I know I do), yes, even your best girl is problematic. It’s interesting to me that a lot of people sympathize with Asami and very few openly criticize her (so few that I’ve never seen anyone say a bad thing about her). What’s there to criticize though? The poor girl was cheated on by Mako, had her feelings disregarded by Korra, who claimed to be her friend but pursued her then-boyfriend behind her back and then made up for it by simping for her for the rest of her life? Also her mom was murdered when she was just 6 years old, her father threatened to kill her once and physically abused her, then died right after they started repairing their relationship, essentially making her an orphan at the ripe age of 22. Suffice it to say, Asami has been through it.

So, how could she be problematic, you ask? Why, of course, through the classic Bryke technique of romance progression in storylines called Kissing People Without Their Consent

To be honest, I did gloss over this with Korra, simply because there were sooo many other issues with that woman and I just couldn’t go through every single one in as much detail but that doesn’t negate how serious this whole sneak attack kissing thing is. Sure, Asami is very emotional and lonely and sort of desperate too, (it's a little sad, really) but Mako is clearly uncomfortable and completely caught off guard by the kiss. This is also the second time this happens to him in the series! There are a couple factors that might contribute to why Asami does this and acts this way, maybe Korra’s general awfulness rubbed off on her (don’t make a dirty joke) but this is still wrong.

AND that’s...pretty much it. Kissing people without their permission is a big no no, though. Not wanting to gloss over that, but Asami really is a good person who just did a not-so-great thing. Getting burned by Mako twice probably made her a little less inclined to be as forward with anyone though, and it looks like she now takes her time and is patient in her relationship with Korra. It even seems like Asami is the only person Korra is afraid to upset, as Korra does seem more gentle and calm when around her. And who knows? Maybe Asami living a life where a majority of the time she got whatever she wanted when she wanted it might have also influenced her to be more assertive or even imposing within her relationships.

If anything, those three fools getting into relationships with each other just showed how not ready they were to be in relationships in the first place and also how not okay they were.

BOLIN

Originally I titled this as “Everyone in the Krew is problematic (except Bolin)” but then I remembered that Bolin totally kissed a woman without her consent so I deleted the shit out of that!

This asshole looks genuinely pleased with himself after essentially assaulting Ginger. Not a good look.

Sure, Bolin is baby. He will always be baby to me. But that does not erase the fact that he also actively supported a fascist dictator. Not only was the kissing without consent thing bad, but there’s also that. No matter how many times people around him warned him about the fact that he was on the wrong side of things, that he was helping someone who was putting people into concentration camps...Bolin wanted to believe the best of Kuvira. He ignored obvious signs that the woman was a dictator committing human rights violations like crazy and you know, there’s gotta be a reason for that too.

Maybe Bolin wanted to feel like he was doing something good for once. When you think about it, with his role as the comic relief in the Krew, and sort of constantly being infantilized by his older brother, I wouldn’t be surprised if the man developed some insecurity in his ability to do anything good or useful for anyone without screwing it up in some way. In Kuvira’s army, it seemed like he was actually taken seriously, he felt like he was doing something that mattered. Korra had being the Avatar, Asami had her business and mindblowing philanthropy (honestly, her ability to be as charitable as she is profitable is insane) and Mako had his police work (ACAB, tho). Bolin had...the role of being a joke. A superficial actor. A former pro-bending meathead.

Bolin lived his entire life following after his brother that once they were adults and Mako finally decided to live his own life for once, it left Bolin completely lost. And lost young men are perfect recruits for fascists.

So, in conclusion, my whole reasoning behind destroying the integrity of my favorite characters is to prove a huge point. All of these characters are problematic. They have flaws, some bigger than others (looking at you, Korra. Just...wow), but ultimately, even if your fave is problematic... that’s okay. A lot of people, mostly younger people it seems, are really obsessed with being right about everything that they do and stan. And that’s a wonderful thing, so much change has come about by the younger generations calling out people who do fucked up shit, don’t want or try to improve, and get away with it. But it’s also caused a lot of people to be unforgiving and completely unwilling to acknowledge when people do improve and try to be better.

Personally, I love my problematic Krew because having issues that you’re constantly working on internally is human. It’s human to make mistakes, it’s human to grow from those mistakes. And it’s inspiring to me, who is wholly imperfect, to see myself reflected in fictional characters who aren’t perpetuating unrealistic ideals of human nature, characters who are messy, crazy and ultimately human.

As one of my favorite manga artists and queen of impeccable character creation Rumiko Takahashi once said:

“I think that perfect people are not very interesting.”

And I will always wholeheartedly agree.

[shihalyfie]

Yamato, Adventure’s most dramatically emotional cast member

The “edgy cool bishounen rival” has been such a staple of shounen anime for years that the moment you look at Yamato and his position next to Taichi, it’s easy to go “ah, yep, there it is.” But just like how Taichi’s actually very different from the shounen hero stereotype, Yamato, despite what his first impression and character design might suggest, is in fact the complete opposite!

Actually, I’ll start this off with an interesting story from Yamato’s own voice actor, Kazama Yuuto:

Yeah. When my agent asked me which role I wanted to try out, I thought I couldn’t do a pretty boy character like him, so I was really astonished when I was chosen for the role. Afterwards, when I asked Kakudou-san [the director] about it, he said that he’d decided on me the instant I’d come in... I’d heard that Yamato was a cool character, which I thought was a part of him that didn’t agree with me. So there was that factor in the beginning. But I learned that he was actually quite similar to me, and a surprisingly passionate guy.

I don’t generally have a huge tendency to include voice actor comments in analysis about writing, but I do think it says a lot that even his own voice actor walked in expecting the typical “pretty boy rival” character to the extent that he felt he’d have difficulty doing the role at all, only for the actual nature of Yamato’s character to catch him off guard! Because, yeah, that really is the case: Yamato’s first impression really is very deceptive, and his actual personality is, indeed, full of open passion and emotion in nearly every way.

Yamato in Adventure

...No, really, it really does not take long for it to be very clear that Yamato’s immediately not like the stereotype his character archetype would suggest, considering that even as early as Adventure episode 2, he was depicted as very obviously being open about his opinions, even if that made him quick to criticize.

When you talk about “rival” characters, usually, the reason such characters seem cold and standoffish is that there’s a certain degree of pride to them, or, in other words, they want to keep up a facade of being “cool” and rational and thus aren’t quick to show their emotions. But Yamato isn’t like that at all! From the very beginning, he speaks often, is very open and honest about his thoughts, and doesn’t seem to even really care what others think at all.

The Adventure novels do, in fact, make clear that he was more closed-in prior to arriving in the Digital World, and these bursts of emotion were actually unusual behavior for him at the time -- but it’s not because he’s prideful or anything! Firstly, it wasn’t necessarily that he deliberately cut himself off from others -- rather, he was still willing to engage in some degree of friendly interaction:

It wasn’t because he was lonely. In fact, many of his classmates would greet him with a friendly “Yo!” or “Hi~!” when they came across him and, naturally, Yamato would respond back with a smile.

And, in fact, said novel indicates that there’s a lot going on deeper than him merely suppressing his emotions for the sake of it:

The people around Yamato may have thought that he was a cold, aloof person, but that was only because he didn’t show what he thought to other people. When had he become like that? He hadn’t been like that when he was younger. But after his parents decided to divorce and his mom took Takeru by the hand and left home… Don’t go! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me! The truth was, he had wanted to plead with her and cry — but he couldn’t. Part of it had to do with his father standing by his side. Maybe his mother had secretly wished for Yamato to say that to her. But at that moment, Yamato had thought that he would never show weakness in front of his mom, even if he died from it. It was his own decision to follow his dad. Ever since coming to the Digital World, even Yamato was surprised by how much emotion he expressed. All of the emotion that he’d held back while at home, at school, had come bursting out without pause.

It’s also important to understand the reasons why he blows up so easily at Taichi in Adventure episodes 3 and 6 and whatnot -- he does it because he’s constantly looking out for the others and worried about their welfare. Pretty much all of the arguments he has with Taichi for the majority of the series involve him objecting to his perception of Taichi as insensitive, because Taichi has a tendency to tease others or bid for everyone to keep pushing forward into dangerous situations or when they’re tired. So, really, Yamato gets angered and emotional and picks his fights with Taichi because he cares too much, not because he’s deliberately trying to cultivate an image of being detached. Once they were outside the range of his family and their classmates and stranded in another world, Yamato’s bleeding heart instantly won out, and he started advocating for the welfare of everyone else.

This is why Yamato’s the one who gets the Crest of Friendship, because even though he starts off by putting up a defensive wall between himself and the others and seems very difficult to deal with, even when he gets angry and upset, he’s constantly upset on other people’s behalf. Even from the very beginning of the series, he’s actually one of the most caring people in the cast!

Really, the entire first few introductory episodes with Yamato can be pretty succinctly described as Yamato coping really badly with all those years of emotional suppression and letting it out in some pretty severe outbursts, especially when it comes to Takeru, whom he’d never been able to properly take care of as an older brother due to their parents’ divorce. (And while he’s definitely a little better at managing it, Takeru himself is actually also doing a pretty bad job with that whole emotional suppression and lack of catharsis thing.) Standoffish and cold? Nah -- not when Yamato has the single highest count of openly breaking down and crying out of the whole cast in Adventure.

And, for all it’s worth, remember that stereotypical “cold rival” characters in this kind of shounen series would normally be very ashamed at others seeing them so emotional, but Yamato...doesn’t really seem to care about the others seeing him do some really embarrassingly reckless stuff during his episodes of exploding over Takeru’s welfare. Once it’s past him, he doesn’t really dwell on it and moves on. Again: Yamato isn’t the kind of person who actually cares that much about what other people think of him.

Adventure episode 18 is an often-overlooked episode when it comes to Yamato, but it’s significant because it makes it clear that he doesn’t really have a problem being conversational and friendly with others (especially since, remember, any emotional suppression had more to do with the trauma and sensitive feelings surrounding his parents’ divorce and a desire to not show weakness) -- he starts a very lighthearted, friendly chat with Koushirou over why they’re looking for their Crests, and even admits that the reason he wants his own Crest is that he’s self-conscious about the idea of everyone else changing and improving as people while he gets left behind. That’s a really personal thing to admit, and arguably something very sensitive! It’s something you wouldn’t even blame him for potentially being self-conscious about! But he’s perfectly humble in admitting that this is something he wants to improve in, and carries on this entire conversation in a light-hearted, cheerful manner.

This episode takes place during a time where everything seems to be “safe” (they’re within Piccolomon’s barrier and finally have a proper place to sleep), and are on the verge of finding their own Crests in a situation that does not ostensibly involve running for their lives, so this is when you get to see Yamato in a relaxed situation. And, really, he’s very friendly and open, with no restraint about it. He really isn’t the kind of person to be condescending or cold by nature!

It’s even more incorrect to pin Yamato as someone who tries to act more on rationality (again, like the “cold rival” stereotype would suggest) because, in fact, he’s the kind of person who gets completely carried away by his own caring for others to the extent of irrationality. For instance, in Adventure episode 23 when his conflicting loyalties to Takeru versus wanting to help Jou in his situation get all mixed up, and he tries to buy into PicoDevimon's trick to turn Jou against him as a solution to taking sides before Jou clearly indicates this is the case, and Yamato doesn't hesitate to feel really bad about it. Openly so. Condescension? Nah.

No, really, I could just keep taking screenshots from Adventure all day if you want evidence of “Yamato is openly and passionately emotional to explosive degrees because he cares too much about others, and makes no real pretense of hiding it.” If you’re still not convinced, I don’t know what to tell you.

When Yamato infamously succumbs to Jureimon’s bait in Adventure episode 44 and ends up picking a fight with Taichi -- possibly his most self-centered action in the entire series -- it’s interesting to see that Jureimon does use the word “rival”, the same word used in anime trope lingo to describe “the person you’re constantly fighting with and competing with in order to improve yourself”. The reason why this is fascinating is that Adventure is making a point here that this kind of “stereotypical anime rival” relationship would be extremely unhealthy for these characters.

No, really: at least as far as Yamato’s concerned, and what defines the kind of “friendship” these particular kids need, what these kids need is mutual emotional support, not engineered conflict that can be passed off as “they fight but it’s a sign of how much they know each other!” Remembering that Adventure is, in many ways, a series that prioritizes wanting to focus on portraying the intimate nature of human behavior, it’s not surprising that it goes out of its way to make clear that centering your relationship with a friend around needing to “outdo” them is a really bad thing. (Observe how 02′s Daisuke and Ken also don’t fit the “rivals” archetype at all and are merely a straightforward relationship of best friends in little to no conflict, despite occupying the stereotypical position.)

But Jureimon successfully digs into all of Yamato’s insecurities about his perceived lack of self-improvement and his tendency to compare himself to the polar-opposite Taichi in terms of Taichi’s charisma and way of (ostensibly) playing better to Takeru’s dislike of being coddled. And so, the engineered conflict happens, and, of course, it traumatizes everyone around them. When Yamato finally manages to get over himself after some timely intervention from “the one who seeks stability” (Homeostasis) in Adventure episode 45, everyone in the group is miserable from the ordeal.

Adventure episode 51 basically lays down the two major issues Yamato had been facing up until that point, and ties it into a neat bow: the reason Yamato had become so obsessed with self-improvement was because he wanted to prove he was "independent" and "not weak", but in the end, he still sees himself as an inferior person compared to everyone else -- culminating in him eventually seeing Taichi as a better person than him. Gabumon reaches out to Yamato by clarifying Yamato’s right to not compete, but be unique; it’s not about competing or being a “better” or “worse” version of others, it’s finding his important niche in the group or in the world with the things only he’s good at. Yamato says it in explicit words in Two-and-a-Half Year Break:

Dad doesn’t remember. On the day when we had to decide whether Takeru or I would go with him… Neither Dad or Mom could decide, so I did. I thought, this way, Takeru would be able to stay with Mom. I chose for myself. And after that, I always chose for myself. Or that’s what I’d planned to. Even though I was called a Chosen Child, it was me who was going to choose what to do. No way was I going to be used for other people’s convenience. Maybe that’s why I went so far to keep myself from making friends. But in the end, I acknowledged that what I was doing was unreasonable. After all, I’m not living in this world by myself. If I hadn’t met Gabumon, I never would have realized that. The person I am right now, is not alone.

As long as Yamato only ever sees himself as a replaceable piece meant to fill in the same niches as everyone else, he’ll continue to be horribly critical of himself for not being a perfect person and ultimately being “useless” or “not necessary”. But it’s not about being perfect or a better or worse replacement, it’s about embracing himself and what he can do in his own way, and, indeed, at the end of the episode, Yamato’s arrival on the scene makes it clear that the group ultimately needs both of them, not just one.

It’s also interesting in that, whereas most of the kids (especially in the Adventure finale) are very open about their own feelings to their own partners, Yamato and Gabumon are capable of “communicating” in some sense just by Yamato playing the harmonica. But it’s perhaps because Yamato is normally so open and passionate about his own feelings that such a tacit method is something they can do -- they’ve already bared themselves to each other so many times already, that in the end, all they need to do is just enjoy the abstract things together.

Yamato in 02 and after

So by the time we get to 02, any trace of coldness or detachment from Yamato has completely vanished.

I cannot emphasize this enough: completely vanished. Even in the middle of being a heartthrob for the teenagers in school thanks to his good looks and work with his band, he’s open and lacking in condescension whatsoever, and it’s basically like seeing the openly friendly Yamato from Adventure episode 18 for a whole series. Actually, it already says a lot that he’s in a band, considering it feels like shifting his music activities to a full-on band is there to make a deliberate statement that Yamato is now much better at socializing and working in organized groups now -- it’s a far cry from having to work solo or independently, and it’s significant that “the person who wanted to be able to do everything by himself” is now interested in doing something a bit more cooperative. (And to lend further to the idea he’s sentimental and constantly thinks of others, his band, the TEEN-AGE WOLVES, is all but confirmed to be named in indirect tribute to Gabumon.)

He’s open, conversational, makes a lot of silly faces throughout the series, and basically the only thing he has left that remotely resembles the “pretty boy rival” stereotype is that he’s deep in the aesthetic. But even then, you get the impression that he just does that because he genuinely likes it, not because he’s trying to be “cooler than you” or anything. And it’s easy to see why: Yamato, quite simply, got over himself. He stopped restraining himself all the time in his attempts to become a perfect person, and simply let himself loose to express himself how he wanted, and ultimately became a perfectly sociable and friendly person who’s now even popular at school!

Yamato’s punch on Taichi in 02 episode 10 is often taken as evidence that Taichi and Yamato embody the “rivals who constantly get in fights but are somehow still friends” trope, but this tends to avoid the actual context of the rest of the scene -- in fact, Daisuke himself rightfully points out that if Yamato had done this out of any actual anger or condescension, this would have been a really cruel thing to do to Taichi when he’s already going through so much. But Yamato’s not doing this out of resentment or condescension, he’s doing this for Taichi’s own sake to help him get out of his stupor, and the important part here is that he immediately holds out a hand to him afterwards. Or, in other words, this isn’t something they’re doing out of conflict, but out of communication, and it’s now at the point where Taichi understands Yamato’s intent, and Yamato knows that what he wanted to do would be conveyed to Taichi, without words.

That is why Taichi and Yamato are finally so close now: they understand each other’s feelings. They’re not competing with each other. They’re not resenting each other. They’re sympathetic and forgiving of each other, and they communicate, verbally or otherwise.

It’s followed by a scene in 02 episode 11 that’s also often construed as Taichi and Yamato advocating fighting as part of a healthy friendship, but, again, this omits context: they talk about their fighting in past tense! They’re referring as fighting having been part of the things they had to do to understand each other now, when they clearly aren’t in that kind of conflict anymore. The idea they’re espousing is that Daisuke and Takeru need to let out their feelings and have some catharsis if they want to truly understand each other (which is, indeed, how Taichi and Yamato eventually settled their differences) and hopefully get to a position of mutual understanding, instead of the others forcing them to have peace for the sake of peace and not letting their feelings get out on the table. (And, ultimately, Daisuke spends the rest of the episode thinking about Takeru’s position, and none of the 02 kids ever end up in this bad of a brawl for the rest of the series, yet manage to build a friendship in spite of that -- so, yes, the important part was that they had their feelings out in the open and got catharsis, not fighting in itself.)

Yamato also has an interesting role in the 02 drama CDs, including one entirely devoted to him (Letter). Said drama CD has quite a few things to note:

Gabumon says that Yamato being rather silent and not speaking up about what he’s thinking is unusual behavior for him.

As much as Yamato’s managed to do a better job opening up in general, he’s still suffering from extreme self-worth issues, considering himself as worthless if he’s not able to do anything for a girl in the hospital, even though it’s of course completely reasonable he can’t do much. Despite that, he continues to emotionally fixate on her welfare and basically self-flagellate and do a lot of pretty emotionally occupied things in the process.

Speaking of getting emotionally occupied, as much as he ends up snapping a bit at the people on the beach who keep annoying the hell out of him, he eventually feels so bad for the shaved ice seller that he forces himself to eat it just for him. (Even though it’s freezing.)

Yamato’s a really poetic person. Almost sappily so.

On top of that, Armor Evolution to the Unknown gives us an ever-so-slight glimpse of his dating life with Sora -- which, while he hadn’t been super-flagrant about, he also hadn’t been hiding either (he’s clearly willing to engage in a bit of PDA as per 02 episode 43), and, if the admittedly-kind-of-crack drama CD is to believed, he’s actually very emotionally passionate about his relationship to her, and very dedicated! Beyond just the (very sudden) passionate declaration of love to her in the middle of tap dancing, when Sora is found to have been worrying about him being cold lately, he immediately goes out of his way to try and make things right and prove his love...

Yamato’s initial appearance in Kizuna pretty much defines in a nutshell what his and Taichi’s relationship eventually turned out to be: they’re willing to banter because they’re comfortable with each other, but when it all comes down to it, they appreciate and trust each other deeply. Again, the point is that Yamato and Taichi are emotionally there for each other, considering that (even if he ribs Taichi a bit for it) Yamato’s willing to come all the way down to meet Taichi for late-night beer and talk to him through his emotional troubles.

And, yes, Yamato’s still there to be a concerned minder for Taichi and to make sure he doesn’t get too inconsiderate of what he’s doing -- but there’s no conflict over it, just the two of them balancing their necessary roles as part of the group and keeping each other in check. Again, as was made clear back in Adventure, it’s not about one person being more necessary than the other, it’s them both working together to fulfill their own roles.

As one of the central characters in the movie, Yamato’s also having an existential crisis of adulthood, and in his case, it’s that he’s playing everything too much by ear but isn’t really sure what he wants to commit to. He’s still enjoying music as a hobby, but it’s apparent he doesn’t want to commit to it as a career (which is, well, quite the common thing for those who have hobbies in middle school) -- and moreover, the novel indicates that it’s not bringing him happiness the way it used to. (The movie goes out of its way to depict Yamato feeling isolated with both a harmonica and a band, referencing that neither Adventure nor 02′s ways are doing it for him anymore.)

Beyond the motorcycle we see Yamato driving a few times in the movie, the official website profile makes it clear that this is one of his major new interests, and it’s presumably why he’s also attending an engineering school -- he can’t decide on a long-term goal, so he’ll at least experiment with the thing he likes. Yamato’s always been someone who thinks with emotions and feelings, so it fits him.

We also learn that he’s surprisingly studious, and is picking up some things that run contrary to his image (the glasses!), including the fact he seems to like school enough that he wants to do more school while he figures out what he wants to do. This is something that happens in real life for a certain kind of person in a career-based existential crisis -- as many people as there are who play very badly with educational structures, there are also people who rely very heavily on the structure of college or grad school basically handing you tasks to do on a plate, and find the job market to be scarier than staying within that bubble. It’s not too unreasonable to imagine that Yamato, who in certain ways has never really been the kind of person to assertively have an idea of “this is what I want to do!” and generally works by immediate feelings instead of long-term goals, would end up becoming that kind of person. As he says, it’s really just him trying to postpone the inevitable decision and get a grace period.

Since “shutting out one’s own partner (and therefore one’s own inner self)” is key to the cause of partner dissolution, Yamato’s way of it isn’t as direct as Taichi or Sora (who end up actively shutting out their partners in a bid to become an adult), but is most certainly there -- especially when he’s the one who drops a mocking line about the idea of bringing Gabumon to his school. (It’s not about whether it’s actually doable or not; it’s the fact that he laughs and scoffs at how stupid this is.) The fact he treats friends drifting apart as an “inevitable” thing, and eventually is shown very obviously to be keeping Gabumon out of the phone conversations (in stark contrast to the 02 quartet going out of their way to keep them involved on the other end) ultimately boils down to: neglect. Yamato’s coasting by on everything he likes, but it also means he’s just letting everything happen, instead of consciously pursuing things and passionately following things with gusto, the way he used to.

But we do see Yamato’s single-minded and passionate side come out again -- while Taichi shuts down and ruminates on what to do about his impending loss of Agumon, Yamato’s the one who desperately runs around trying to figure something out, recruiting the 02 quartet into it, losing sleep over it, and eventually having a passionate confrontation with Taichi as the climax approaches. (Note that this, again, is not a real conflict in nearly the same way the two of them would be spitting insults at each other all the way back in Adventure; it’s just the two baring their own feelings, and Yamato quickly accepts Taichi’s answer very easily because he, too, feels the same. Again: they’ve become very good at communicating.)

Yamato does eventually let Gabumon back into his periphery instead of neglecting him so much, and their final scene together in the movie involves them resuming their old method of tacit communication that they’d once shared together, with Yamato playing the harmonica. It’s a sign of Yamato finally embracing those things in the past that used to make him happy rather than cultivating an uncomfortable relationship with it just because he’d kicked it out of his career prospects, and ultimately coming to terms with what he likes and what makes him happy.

And speaking of career prospects...

The question of “why did Yamato become an astronaut?” is one that’s infamously weirded out people all over the globe because of how much it clashes with his image, and how much of a kind of “out-there” thing it is that had virtually no precedent whatsoever in Yamato’s prior hobbies. (Although, if you really think about it, space travel isn’t that huge of a hurdle as it sounds for a world like this where Digital Gates exist to bend space-time; you just send a probe with a Digital Gate link up there...) The original meta reason was, simply, that it was a holdover from one of the original ideas for the third Adventure series, in which they would be investigating forces that were obstructing evolution from space. (The original logical progression was that Adventure would have a threat from the Digital World, 02 a threat from the real world, so the theoretical third series would be space...) When you think about which of the original Tokyo Chosen Children would be the most likely to actively pursue this route, it actually is likely to be Yamato, given that Taichi is more of a person who’s an overall leader and coordinator, whereas Yamato, who’s much more up-front aggressive and openly passionate, would be more likely to want to tackle the situation with his own hands.

Kizuna -- or, more specifically, its novel -- offers another (and not mutually exclusive!) explanation:

While studying at graduate school, Yamato came up with a dream he had for his future. He wanted to study cosmology, and become an astronaut. The way there would not be easy. There was a whole mountain of things he’d have to do to get there. But Yamato had a certain ambition in mind. Someday, he was going to go to space with Gabumon. Whenever he thought of that future, Yamato was willing to do anything to get there.

Remembering that Yamato was at an engineering school (presumably originally from the motorcycles connection), it seems that he eventually “ran into” the career option by chance and happenstance, and thought about it and decided he wanted to follow it for the sake of going with Gabumon. It’s a very “romantic” and sappy kind of “out-there” dream, and, actually, that’s the point -- Yamato is a ridiculous romanticist, the kind of person who waxed about barbecue back in Adventure episode 6, and compared his relationship with Takeru to Hikoboshi and Orihime back in 02 episode 17, and spouted a bunch of poetic words at the sea during Letter. And, remember, he’s always been openly shameless and passionate about everything he’s felt and liked, and has never cared what other people would think.

And in the context of Kizuna, where Yamato was slowly losing touch with himself and his passions and eventually lost Gabumon as a result, it’s a very important sign that everything’s on its way back to healing, and that he’ll be able to achieve that future where they meet again.

[hopelikethemoon]

Cracks (Reader x Javier) {MTMF}

Title: Cracks Rating: PG-13 Length: 3000 Warnings: Therapy Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in late September  1997.  Summary: Reader goes to therapy.

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps​ @frietiemeloen​ @arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ (more tags in the replies)

You settled into the right side of the sofa, leaning against the arm as your eyes flickered around the room. “You got a new bonsai tree.” You pointed out, pointing to the larger tree that sat beside the smaller one that had previously adorned her table. “I didn’t know they bloomed.”

“It’s an azalea. I have a client who enjoys gifting them to people.” Nancy smiled a little at you. “You should see my house.”

You laughed, pushing your hair behind your ears. “At least it’s something lovely.” 

Nancy flipped her notebook open, shuffling through a few pages before making a note. “I thought that today might be a good day to discuss Javier.”

“Oh.” Your brows furrowed together and you shrugged. “Sure.” Honestly, you thought you had covered a lot about him in that first session. 

“Your relationship with Javier was rather unconventional, wasn’t it?”

You nodded. “We’ve definitely done things backwards.” 

“When did you realize you loved him?”

That was an easy enough question to answer. You still remembered the look on his face when you finally admitted what you both already knew. 

“I told him that I loved him the Christmas before Josie was born.” 

She shook her head, “Not when you told him. When did you realize?”

Your brows drew together. “Well…” You dragged your teeth over your bottom lip, thinking back over the years. It was hard to pinpoint the precise moment you realized you loved him. “I think I realized I had feelings for him when I was still dating Lance. I would catch myself comparing the two of them. I just assumed it was because I spent most of my time with Javi.” 

“But you had another partner too. Did you ever compare Lance with Mr. Murphy?” She questioned, referring to her notes. You watched her as she wrote something down, glancing back at you expectantly. 

“No.” You stared down at the ground. “It was always Javier I compared everyone to. But things were complicated back then. He led this life that I knew I didn’t factor into. I just bottled up those feelings and hid them away.”

“And what sort of life is that?”

“Uh, well…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m fairly certain he knew the name of every hooker in Bogotá.” 

“And how did that make you feel?”

“I didn’t feel anything.” You pushed your fingers through your hair. “Javier was my friend and that was his thing. Trust me, I even encouraged it.” 

“Encouraged it?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “We both encouraged each other to have a little fun.” Nights out at the bar with Javier had been some of your favorite memories from Colombia.

“But never with each other?”

“We worked together.” You rubbed at the back of your neck, fluffing your hair. “I was content with just being his friend.”

“You were content?”

“I mean… not always. But it was easier to go home with a stranger, rather than screw up a good thing.” You shrugged. “I know it’s hard to believe, but that was never really a problem for either of us. We were both very supportive of our extracurricular activities.” 

“But your opinion changed on that. Didn’t it? What changed?”

“It all happened so fast.” Though, maybe it had been a gradual slide towards something. “Steve left Colombia and I felt like my world was falling apart. I figured it was only a matter of time before Javier left too.” You admitted quietly. Reflecting back on that night, you now understood what you were feeling. You were lost and Javier was the only thing that made sense.

“So you slept with him?”

“I think that oversimplifies it. I think it was more like we both realized that life was short and sometimes it changes fast. Why delay the inevitable?” 

“So you believed that your relationship with Javier was inevitable?”

“I believed that we would eventually sleep together, yeah.” You hugged your arms around yourself, feeling exposed to Nancy. “Look, I wanted to stay. I wanted to tell him that I wanted more but… like I said, I knew all about the life he led. He wasn’t the relationship type. He had his hookers and.. I felt like I was no better than a one night stand.”

“But that wasn’t the case. Was it?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. I didn’t know that though. For three months I ran from him. It was fucking unbearable.” You rubbed at your forehead, “To have someone who means the world to you, but you just… you shut them out for your own sanity.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I was afraid.” Your shoulders sank. “I hardly looked at him for three months. And that was a feat. Our desks faced each other. I was fucking terrified that if I looked at him I would see just how little he really cared about me. That I was just some stupid woman that fell into bed with him.”

“Stupid?” Nancy questioned, furiously writing notes. “Why that word choice?”

“Because I felt stupid.” You rubbed at your eyes, sighing heavily. “There was so much love in the way he touched me that night and I just… I assumed it was how he was with everyone. He had a good reputation. Those women loved him. I’m sure I made a few hookers weep when I pulled him off the market.”

“And did he keep up his interactions with them after your relationship began?”

You frowned, sinking back against the sofa as you stared at her. “Yeah. But it was just for work. She was an informant of his. In his defense,  we weren’t even together. It happened while I was avoiding him.” You shook your head slowly. “But I think that eats at him. You should ask him about it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how he felt. We’ve discussed that — all of this. This conversation has come up before. And I know that it’s one of the many things he still dwells on.” He dwelled on a lot of things about the past. Things that couldn’t be changed. 

“And why do you think that?”

“I just do.”

“Do you want him to dwell on it?”

“No! I want to move past all of that.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “I know you’re trying to find out if I’m jealous, but I’m not.” You told her earnestly. “You can even ask him. When there was this ridiculous rumor about him fucking a student — I knew he never would do that. I didn’t even consider it as truth. He was scared shitless that I would believe it, though. I know he loves me and I know he loves our family. That isn’t something I worry about.” 

“Interesting.” She nodded approvingly, turning the page. “What drew you to Javier?”

“Day one... I felt this kinship with him. He really challenged me, which I appreciated. I think I did the same for him.” You rubbed your hands together slowly. “He was a jackass and he was handsome. It was a fatal combination.”

“Fatal?”

“I just mean…” You laughed. “He was definitely my type.”

“You’ve mentioned your previous relationship before. Was he anything like Javier?”

“Complete opposite. He had a terribly dry sense of humor, he was very straight-laced, and physically night and day with Javier.”

“How was your relationship with him?”

“I was bored.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Nearly a year I guess.” It probably said something about you that you didn’t know how long you dated Lance. “We broke up because he wanted me to leave Colombia with him. I couldn’t even picture it. My life was there. I was happy.”

“Was?”

“I am happy.” You assured her. “Javier and the girls are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nancy nodded her head slowly. “In our first session you mentioned Javier’s guilt. What is it about the way he dwells on things that frustrates you?”

Oh, you hated the way she took everything you said and presented it back to you. 

“Javier has convinced himself that he’s not a good guy. There was a lot of shit went down in Colombia. Stuff I can’t really talk about.” People who died, people who were killed. Shit that weighed heavily on both of you. “But he carries a lot of that with him. Constantly.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “And I don’t know how to help him do that. I’ve tried.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Why does that frustrate you?”

You blinked. “Because I know that he’s a good man. He’s an incredible father, the best partner I could ever imagine, and his students adore him despite how hard he is on them. He’s caring, loyal, passionate. He’s always been all in with me. But he lets things get under his skin and eat at him. Anything that goes wrong is instantly his fault. I mean, the garbage disposal could break and somehow he’d rationalize that it's his fault. That he didn’t think of it last week.”

“Why do you think Javier does that?”

“I’m hoping you’ll help him figure that out.”

Nancy’s brows rose upwards as she stared at you. “But this isn’t just about him.”

You dragged your fingers through your hair, sighing heavily. “No, it’s not.” You glanced towards the window, brows furrowed. “I’ve always had this theory… And it’s just a theory.” You glanced back at her then. “His mom died when he was young. Sofía is named after her.”

“I see.”

“I think sometimes that he is overcompensating because he has had such a complicated relationship with women throughout his life. Starting with his mother dying.”

“Why do you think that?”

“This thing we have is the most serious relationship either of us has ever been in. He was engaged once before, back when he was much younger. He left her at the altar.” You grimaced. “I know that there is a part of me that worries that the only reason we ended up in a relationship is because of Josie. That he’s still here because he wants to do right by our girls. But I know that isn’t true. Josie didn’t make us love each other, we already loved each other. She was just the linchpin that made us own up to it.” 

“So why the worry?”

“Because I still catch myself feeling like that stupid girl who did the walk of shame out of the apartment of the man she loved. Who felt stupid for weeks and months, even after things were good between us.” You covered your face then. “I think I’m still waiting for the day that he leaves me at the proverbial altar.” 

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years.”

“Has he ever given you a reason to think he’s going to leave you?”

You shook your head. “My only reasons for even thinking that it could happen are my own. He is incredibly committed to our family. He’d do anything for us.”

“Then why do you feel that way?”

You wiped away a tear as it slid down your cheek. “Because I love him and I don’t want to lose him. We have been through so much. And frankly…” You laughed softly. “The thought of doing any of this on my own makes me sick to my stomach. He keeps me grounded. And he has for ten years.”

Nancy nodded slowly. “Why do you think you both struggle to communicate?”

“Because we both want to protect each other.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “And sometimes we are protecting each other from ourselves.”

“An astute observation.” She took a few more notes before closing her notebook and leaning back in her chair. “I think we made progress today.” 

“I thought we’d talk more about me.” You admitted, wringing your hands together.

“Is there something that’s on your mind?”

“Not really,” You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek, brows furrowed. “But you’re right. I felt like I made progress this week.”

Nancy opened her notebook again and wrote something down. “And why do you think that is?”

“Well, writing things down has really helped. It’s nice to have something to reflect on when I feel like everything is falling apart. I mean, I couldn’t get Sofía to settle at all on Thursday. I ended up having to pump because she refused to latch on.” You frowned at the memory. “I felt like shit. But I looked back on Monday and Tuesday which were really good days.”

“You’re not going to have an overnight success. You went through a deeply traumatic experience.” Nancy reminded you with an even voice. “What you’re going through is understandable. We’re going to work together to give you the tools to overcome this.” 

“Also,” You laughed with a roll of your eyes. “Javier wanted to make sure I told you that he’s doing his homework.” 

“And how has that helped you?” Nancy arched a brow.

You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to ignore the way you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s not even about the sex. It’s the closeness I crave. The attention.” You laughed nervously. “So thank you for encouraging him to do whatever you encouraged him to do.” 

“Intimacy is a vital part of a relationship.” Nancy explained, “Even if it is as simple as holding hands. It keeps you connected to each other. Keep working on that until your next session. Focus on documenting the good things that happen.” 

 ———

 “How did it go?” Javier questioned as you slid into the passenger seat. 

“I think it went well.” You shrugged, glancing into the backseat. “Did you have fun at preschool today, Josie?”

“We did some math today.” She told you with a grimace. 

“She had an issue.” Javier explained, reaching over to give your leg a squeeze. 

“Oh no. What happened, sweetheart?”

“They had us counting with candy!” Josie said excitedly, though her expression faltered. “She had us subtractate-“

“Subtract.” You corrected 

“Subtract three candies.” She stared down at her hands bashfully. “And when she said to put one back I couldn’t.”

Javier whispered, “She ate them.”

You snorted, trying to keep composed. “And then what happened?”

“I cried.”

“I had to talk to the teacher. It’s fine.” He assured you. 

“Did she say you could eat the candies?”

“She didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Javier chuckled, rubbing his thumb over your leg. “She’s your daughter.”

“Always looking for a loophole.” You shrugged. “That’s okay Josie. It happens.”

“I know mommy.” Josie pursed her lips, looking rather dejected about the whole thing. 

You reached back and gave her hand a squeeze. “Now you know not to eat them in the future.” 

She nodded her head and clasped her hands around your hand. “I told sissy not to eat the candies when she goes to school too.”

“And what did she say?”

“She just stared at me.” Josie looked at her sister, brows furrowed. “She doesn’t like to talk yet.” 

“That’s because she’s a little baby, JoJo.” Javier told her, looking back at them in the rearview mirror. “Remember what we talked about?” 

“I remember.” 

“What did you talk about?” You questioned, settling back against your seat as you looked at Javier. 

“Josie was very disappointed that Sofía wasn’t fun. She’s used to Olivia and Emily. So we had a nice conversation about how she’s the big sister and she has to help us take care of Sofía until she’s bigger.” 

“Daddy said sissy is like a puppy and I’m a big dog.” 

“You called our daughter a puppy?” You slapped his leg playfully. 

“I had to use terms she understood.” 

You scrunched up your nose, “I suppose that’s excusable.” 

As Javier slowed down for a stoplight, he reached over and took your hand into his, interlacing your fingers. “Did you tell her I was doing my homework.”

You squeezed his hand and laughed. “Seriously?” You grinned at him. “Don’t worry it was discussed. In fact, you were the topic of most of the session.”

“I was?” His brows drew together. 

You nodded your head slowly, “You were indeed.” 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Should I be worried?”

“No.” You reassured him, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “It helped me realize some stuff. Crap I’ve been holding onto for too long.” He definitely wasn’t the only one who hauled around shit from the past. “I think we’re going to come out of this better than before.” 

“I hope so.” Javier squeezed your hand three short pulses, before he had to let go to drive the car. “How does ice cream sound?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grinned, reaching over to steal the aviators off his face, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thief.” 

“And proud.” You said smugly, pushing the glasses up the bridge of your nose. 

You definitely had worries about your relationship, worries that you had neatly compartmentalized and tried to pretend them away. And maybe that showed. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Javier to believe you were done with your relationship, because he’d seen the cracks in the facade along the way. 

You had always prided yourself on believing that you didn’t hide anything from Javier, but the truth was you were hiding things from yourself. 

[beebleboosuwu]

Fic: Took My Days With You

I originally posted this on AO3 but wanted to share this with y’all:

There’s one thing that she hated the most about herself:

The fact that she grew up.

Lydia didn’t want to, but that was a part of life. She left fifteen years ago to pursue her dream career of becoming a photographer. Her success with that led to her becoming an author and multiple of her publications became New York Times hits. Her autobiography came soon after, and people were enthralled by her life story. Obviously she had to leave out the... interesting bits of her teenage years other than telling her audience that she lived in a house where the previous tenants died and telling them that she could feel their presence everywhere she went in that house. And she told her story to all who would listen, they seemed to enjoy it claiming that it was all in the name of fiction but to her it was real. When she left, all five of her family members waved farewell and wished her the best of luck. Delia and Charles helped her pack, Adam and Barbara made provisions and supplies for her trip and Beetlejuice, the sentimental bastard, waited and bid farewell to her on the roof where they met. But one devastating phone call from Skye sent Lydia into a panicked frenzy, she hurriedly left her home of Salem, Massachusetts to Winter River, Connecticut. With her car supplied for only a week's worth of clothes, and now 40 years old, she returned to her home. She was always nearby, and never too far from her family, she didn’t have the heart to go that far.

Lydia drove past the sign of Winter River with a somber look on her face, her black convertible rolling down the familiar town. The town didn’t change much, it was still a small town and the nostalgia factor was striking a hard chord in her. She couldn’t stop the wetness running down her cheeks though.. This is where she grew up and now…. it’s gone..

Not like gone, but in the more ‘this no longer feels like home’ vibe. She had a home and lost that one with the death of her mother, but she rebuilt a new one with a second set of (ghost) parents and a strange and unusual best friend. Lydia could see it in the distance, a raggedy looking building faded with age. The surrounding hill hasn’t changed, other than the fact that her dad actually pulled through with that gated community deal with a different partner other than that snob Maxie Dean. It was a nice area though, multiple houses lined the way to her house, or rather the ‘flagship model home’ her dad nicknamed it so long ago.

She pulled up to the driveway, taking note of the dead vegetation around the property. She hasn’t been back in years, and it certainly has seen better days. The paint was chipping off from the wind, and there wasn’t even a strong breeze blowing. No one has lived here for a couple years either. Her father and stepmother died 3 years ago and she never got the chance to return to Winter River. She was always so busy, and whatever time she had to herself, she would throw herself into her work. Always working on the next big thing that her fans would enjoy.

The windows had been covered with wood and the door was left wide open. Multiple cans of bear and graffiti littered the front porch and the front door. Lydia was afraid to enter in, not because of the ghosts that she hoped were still in there, but how empty it looks from the outside.

She left her things in a hotel already and chose to come straight here rather than getting some rest. The hotel manager so it seem, was a big fan of Lydia’s and asked if she was going to return to her house that she used to live in. Rather than disclose that information, she said no. He said it was a shame what happened to her old house, it fell out of repair and no matter how many times realtors wanted to sell it, no one would buy it. According to the locals, no one would buy and live In a house that is haunted by its old occupants. It also became a place that was frequented by juveniles to get a good scare from this place. Which did work cause they claimed that some monster always chased them out. She knew who it was and the reason for Skye’s call:

The monster sightings and other weird stuff happening in her old house suddenly ceased.

The porch creaked beneath her feet, as if the wood would snap at any moment. Normally the Maitlands would come rushing out and greet her at the door and Beetlejuice would be in the living room watching whatever he wanted to, but there was nothing, and that definitely made Lydia pause her advancement towards the rickety old house. Her nose wrinkled from the old, wet, wood smell emanating from the house.

Lydia trudged on anyway and went past through the threshold, and what she saw saddened her. The roof had given out at one point and that pile of wood was tucked away to the side. The living room was a mess, riddled with dust and more garbage thrown around. And call her crazy for keeping it, but the sculpture that she used to stab Beetlejuice with was knocked over. The stand was crushed to smithereens and the pole and the adorning head piece laid far away. The pole was resting by the fireplace and the spiky headpiece was near the base of the stairs. Multiple photos of herself and her family were callously left on the floor, leaving the glass frame shattered and the photos caked with grime.

“Adam? Barbara?” Lydia called out to the empty house, “Lawrence?” her demon adopted brother would usually hiss at her for using his first name, and she got no response from her ghost parents or Beetlejuice. “Anyone home? It’ me, Lydia!” She called again, but only the echoing tones of her voice reached her.

She entered the kitchen next, leaving her just as devastated. The stove had been ripped out of the wall and the table was smashed to pieces, knives, pots and other cooking utensils were scattered on the island, sink and counter tops. the backdoor to the garden was no better. The door hung off its hinges and the backyard was full of dead grass and weeds, like the entire life of the house just disappeared.

Scared of what that entailed, she rushed towards the staircase and climbed up it without disregard. The hand rail fell off the moment she touched it but ran up, ignoring the protesting groans of the wood. She had to know.

She had to.

The hallway was filled with odd bits and bobs of the rooms, a smashed mirror was on the floor, a mattress was laid against the wall, pieces of metal stuck out from the mattress too. Making it seem that someone repeatedly stabbed the thing multiple times. Lydia cautiously stepped around the debris to head towards the door to the attic and out of all things that were destroyed, the door was the only one that looked like it hadn't been touched.

With hope rejuvenating her system, she busted down the door only to find no one inside. The attic was an absolute mess, the room was torn inside and out. Barbara and Adam’s bed was ripped to shreds, the love seat’s ripped and the fluff from inside the cushions were strewn along the floor, Adam’s model town was no longer here and Barbara’s clay pots lay shattered on the shelves. The window opening to the roof is left wide open causing a draft into the room. There was a small pile of clothes in the middle of the room, all looking like it was haphazardly thrown there.

“Adam? Barbara? Beej?” Lydia pleaded to the open air that one of them are still around. “Please, I’m here!” Now she couldn’t stop the tears from forming, “Beetlejuice? Ghost-mom? Ghost-dad? Where are you?!” Lydia started to feel the adrenaline and panic flood into her system, she frantically went to every nook and cranny of the attic throwing anything that might have obscured a hiding ghost, but no luck. There was no trace of the ghost couple and the green haired demon here. Her tearful gaze turned towards the roof, she checked every room of the house and no one responded to her calls.

The cold, crisp autumn air embraced her once more.. The weathervane rusted beyond recognition and the barriers between the edge of the roof and the solid ground she stood on were missing, most likely they were the things stabbed into the mattress. A hoarse scream left her throat and Lydia sunk onto her knees clutching her chest.

They were gone… She was alone, again. Forsaken. Invisible.

Her family has been scattered to the winds, Dad and Delia have expired, only days apart the doctor said. Lydia alone paid for the funeral and their gravesites to be dug, she didn’t return to Winter River. Instead she went straight into her work and wrote a hit, “The Demon Among Us.” It was about her experience with a literal demon, but over analytical professors and English majors chalked up her demon character (Beetlejuice) and said it was a personification of depression. Which would have been awesome… if that was what she wrote about.

Adam and Barbara were nowhere to be found, and the house they loved so much was falling apart. Their precious items, littering the lawn to the backyard to the front yard. If they could see what had happened, they would be surely hopeful and ready to fix it.

Beetlejuice didn’t appear instantly when she called his name, and since Juno was eaten by that Sandworm… Beetlejuice never had a problem with saying his name or getting anyone to say it. He did mention there was a slight tug from the after effects of the curse being lifted, but other than that he said it was manageable.

Lydia cried onto the roof tiles, the family she had built… vanished.

She pounded the ground, cursing herself for not making time, screaming that her life was taken away from her hands again. This was worse than when Emily died, back then she had her father to talk to about things like this. Delia would give insight of finding distractions to move past grief.. While Barbara and Adam gave Lydia a shoulder to cry one whenever she was upset. Beetlejuice made her laugh again and even though he was dead, or born-dead, he made her see that life is worth living. That even if it is a struggle, she could pull through.

Now they were not here, her decaying memories and odd photos of the family were the only things that helped remind her that they existed and were real to her.

“Lydia?”

Lydia turned around to find the familiar stench and sight of her black and white striped demon best friend. She gasped, got up and ran towards her friend. The demon had his arms wide open for her to collide into which she crashed into wholeheartedly.

“Beetlejuice…” she cried into his lapel.

“Heya scarecrow.. nice to see ya. You’ve changed.” Beetlejuice shakily rubbed her back.

“And you haven’t,” she let go to take a good look at him, “Oh Beej, your hair.”

Beetlejuice sadly smiled, his hair being a deep purple with even darker blue tips, his dress shirt was tinged purple too. She now got a better look at him, his face, stained with tears and wrinkle lines dominated his forehead. His eye bags were heavy as if he didn’t sleep for a long time. “I know.” He replied, “Things happened when you were away.”

“What happened?”

“The Maitlands…” His breath hitched. “They’re gone.”

Lydia stared at Beetlejuice and waited for the punchline. This was Beetlejuice, he was a prankster. Lydia laughed a little.

“You’re joking right?” She playfully shoved him, “They probably moved to the Netherworld, did you check there?”

“I checked… They aren’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. They’re gone… Adam, Barbara… They vanished.” Beetlejuice rubbed his shoulder, “I’ve searched the Netherworld top and bottom, they aren’t there.”

Lydia stood dumbfounded, staring at Beetlejuice with wide-eyes.

“Here, I’ll tell ya what happened.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 years ago

The couple scared off its next batch of kids that thought it was cool to party when the Maitlands were around still, haunting their now decaying house. Beetlejuice hung around giving the ghastly couple tips on what could be scary for these new kids coming in and trashing their house. Delia and Charles passed peacefully during a trip at their vacation spot in Lake Tahoe. They never got to go to the funeral, but letters addressed to Lydia were mailed here. Offering condolences to her and informing any other occupants that the Deetz couple have passed away.

The house quickly fell in disarray, Barbara and Adam couldn’t step outside the house in fear of being teleported to Saturn and being eaten by a Sandworm, so the plant life outside died. Beetlejuice tried to revitalize the plants by gardening, but nothing he did made the grass green again and the plants to grow. Barbara and Adam tried their best to coach Beetlejuice but the pants wouldn’t grow. Nothing was growing in the house.

At one point, during a cold winter, the three had become a throuple. Barbara initially asked Beetlejuice if he was interested, and with Adam’s happy smile, the three became a relationship. They slept on the same bed, kept each other company, and scared everyone who dared enter their territory. They kept the house unoccupied in hopes of Lydia returning one day.

But she never did.

One day when Beetlejuice was finishing scaring off a particular group of kids who seemed impervious to his usual tactics, returned to the attic to celebrate another successful spook, only to find no one there. Thinking it was a joke, Beetlejuice playfully rummaged through the attic to find his partners. Nothing. The roof was next and still: nothing. He checked all points of the house and each empty room he entered, he got more worried and scared that they have been abducted into the Netherworld by one of Beetlejuice’s enemies. After Juno, a lot of Netherlings seemed to come after Beetlejuice. He easily deflected them off but now if they came after the people he loved then there would be hell to pay.

He investigated the attic once more to see if there was any sign of struggle but there was nothing. Not even evidence of a door being open to the Netherworld. He checked anyway, he drew his passageway to the Netherworld and entered. Beetlejuice asked multiple people if they have seen the couple anywhere, and all of them have said they haven’t. Even Miss Argentina said she never saw them, and they were decades past their date of death. If they came through to the Netherworld, she would’ve seen them.

Beetlejuice returned to the house with a broken heart, and fearing the worst, he thought they were done with life. Done with him, and teleported themselves to Saturn for suicide. But that didn’t sit right with him, Adam and Barbara said they loved him. That they cared for him, was that all a lie?

Beetlejuice transported himself to Saturn to search for his partners, and when a Sandworm started following him and nudging at his palm, he concluded that Sandy was the one who followed him and consumed the Maitlands. At first he was furious, hair flushed a deep red and yelled at the Sandworm to spit out the couple, if he was there early enough they could be still alive within the Sandworm. Sandy tilted her head to the side like a dog, confused why Beetlejuice was yelling at her.

He continued to berate the worm into telling him where they are, but Sandy only stared with puzzlement.

Beetlejuice cried and begged Sandy to show him where they at least ended up so he could say goodbye on top of their graves, she agreed and took both Beetlejuice and herself back to the attic. She shrunk and dragged herself to the middle of the attic and curled around herself.

Beetlejuice finally understood.

The Maitlands have… died, again.

After some time, if they don’t go to the Netherworld, ghosts usually fade into nothingness. He has seen it a couple times, and all of them writhed and squealed with pain. It was sudden too, you never know when it will happen. Beetlejuice had gotten enthralled with the prospect of being loved for the first time that he forgot about this and he paid the price.

He then let an anguished cry, and laid on top of the floor. He was unable to hold them as they reduced to ash and disappeared into the void. He scratched the floor and roared. The entire house shook, and he left the attic in a flurry of rage and grief. Beetlejuice tore through each room, tearing it asunder and plowing it of all  memory of a happy family within each wall. He grabbed the metal spikes from the roof and stabbed them into a mattress, he tore the oven out of the kitchen wall and threw it out the door. He brought his fist through the table and slit his arms with the knives over and over again. Causing them to bleed over and over again. He smashed Delia’s sculpture next, throwing each piece to the opposite ends of the room. He returned to the attic and smashed Barbara’s pottery and set Adam’s model ablaze.

He blamed them, he blamed himself for falling in love, he blamed their stupidity for not heading to the Netherworld when they had a chance, he blamed the universe. Cursing it. It took away his happiness and he would burn down the world to force people to feel how he felt.

But he couldn’t, it would dishonour their names. It would dishonour his love to them, he won’t hurt anyone. He’ll scare off anyone who comes nearby the grieving demon.

People started coming in troves everyday, and it was fulfilling at first… But without them, it meant nothing. Beetlejuice became defeated, each scream never satisfied him as much anymore. Not without them.

He collected a pile of Adam and Barbara’s clothing and placed them in the middle of the attic floor and he would sleep on it, and he would dream the sweetest dreams. Adam and Barbara cuddling him and making him feel loved. He would dream of everyone, Barbara, Charles, Delia, Adam and Lydia having a great time. He would dream of Christmas parties and softer moments with his partners. Sometimes he dreamt of memories, a kiss there, a fleeting touch, a smell from Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne would linger in the air when he suddenly woke.

He always woke up crying, knowing that he’ll never have them again.

And one day, he wrote a note:

To the Maitlands,

For the past couple of months I haven’t been able to sleep much or if not, not sleeping at all. I mean, I already had problems sleeping but with your disappearance, it got worse. By all means, this does not seem like I am pointing fingers or blaming anyone… Although it is easy to blame someone for something.. I loved and still love you guys. I still do… I mean it, one hundred percent. All those little kisses we shared, stay with me everyday. Any place I want to be, I want you guys here with me. With you guys, my whole undead life found meaning again. My world, my days, my nights, my hopes, my dreams, was there in front of me and I didn’t do anything about it. This place fills me sorrow, and I can’t bear being here without you two.

Thinking back, you had grand ideas and many stories that the world should’ve heard. All the things you’ve told me were fascinating. All those conversations we’ve had will always be in my memories. Even forgotten, they will be there.

Each day it is depressing to know that I’ll never get to see you two ever again. You guys had so many things to do, and I was left with those broken hopes and dreams. I’ll never get to see your happy faces and feel the same happiness you two gave me, this hurts beyond human and even demon comprehension.

You know, all the time I ever smile and laugh, I instantaneously frown and have a huge wave of sadness run over me. The thought of: “why are you happy? You don’t deserve to be happy.” shut me down. Even with the sweaters and photos left behind, it has both given me great relief and immense sadness. Cause it is a constant reminder that you’re not here with me.. Selfish as it is, I just wished I would’ve spent one more day with you. And I would do anything to have that one last day.

I am haunted with each day that passes. Most, if not all, of my dreams always have you in them. I see you, I hear you, I feel you. When I wake, I loathe to get out of bed. Cause I want to be with you, even if it was just a dream.

Countless memories flood my mind each night before I sleep. From the time I harassed you two, and to the time where we three fell in love. I am overcome with joy and sadness when thinking with those memories. And I’m sad I can’t make more with you. I don’t sleep until 3 or even 5 AM because the thought of seeing you in my dreams puts me in great agony and some nights I lay in anticipation for you to come barreling to my room saying that more breathers have entered the house.

I’m sorry that I’m saying all of this now that you’re gone. I’m sorry I think about you every night. I’m sorry for my brash and lewd nature. I’m sorry that I didn’t make enough time for you two. I’m sorry that I didn’t try hard enough. And I know I am apologizing for nothing but it hurts. Everything hurts. Everyday I’m putting on a mask to hide my emotions because I’m afraid.

I will never stop looking for you in this house. I will never stop hearing your booming laughter in these hallowed halls. I will never take down your photos. I will never stop being your friend and lover.

Everyone knew that there was something wrong with all three of us being dead and all… You two knew what was wrong with me, and I to you. We comforted each other at times, You guys were smart. Funny. Talented and beautiful. And undeniably sexy. A couple with hearts of gold.

I love and miss you guys,

BJ

Beetlejuice wrote multiple letters that he left scattered to the winds, and everyday he thought it was all a nightmare and he would wake up to find them on top of him smiling their bright smiles at him. But no, he would wake up to empty air and breathers rummaging around the house. Beetlejuice kept the door to the attic shut and would lock each time a breather would try to pick the lock.

He hoped that they would walk in through a portal from the Netherworld and make him feel better but it never happened. Days passed, weeks, months and eventually a year.

He laid unmoving from the pile of clothes, until a voice called out to the empty house.

“Adam? Barbara? Lawrence? Anyone home? It’s me-“

It was Lydia.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At one point during his retelling, Lydia and Beetlejuice went to the roof and sat on the edge just like they used to do. They cried together, comforted each other. Lydia hugged Beetlejuice when he stopped to catch his panicking breath, and returned it to Lydia when she curled into herself. They stayed like that for minutes and finally moved when Lydia stood.

She wiped her eyes, “Beej we have to leave. It’s not healthy for us to stay here,” she looked over to the setting sun. “I rented a place here for a week, it would be nice if I had a friend with me,” Beetlejuice opened his mouth but was cut off by Lydia, “I know, I want to stay here too, grab a picture of them and grab a piece of their clothing and maybe find their perfume and cologne”

“But what if they come back?” Beetlejuice asked her, with desperate hope in his eyes.

“I… wouldn’t bet on it Beej,” she sadly replied, “Here I’ll help you grab some stuff.”

Lydia headed back towards the house with Beetlejuice following. They grabbed one of Adam’s green flannels and one of Barbara’s oversized coats. During her time in this house, she found a way to take a picture of the ghost couple, and Beetlejuice took the family photo and stuffed it within his suit pocket. Barbara’s perfume and Adam’s cologne was stuffed in a closet that was full of their junk, Lydia quickly did a search on her phone. Luckily enough, the companies that made the perfume and cologne still made them.

Their treasures in hand, they headed towards Lydia's car in silence. They both got in and headed towards the hotel.

“Wait, before night falls, I have to show you something.” Lydia quickly made a detour, and reared towards the graveyard.

“Lyds, the graveyard?” He asked incredulously.

“Just wait, I came here once and discovered something. Got that letter with you still?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ll see.” Lydia smiled at her demon best friend.

They pulled into the parking lot and Lydia frantically left her vehicle, yakking at Beetlejuice to come after her. She has been here before and quickly went down the path. During the ride, Beetlejuice had changed into Adam’s flannel and donned Barbara’s coral coat. It was warm underneath, and he could still smell them.

“M….” Lydia scanned through the multiple rows. “Here! Lawrence come on!”

Beetlejuice slowly trudged down the path, meeting Lydia at two gravestones. Two gravestones, engraved with the Maitland’s names. A little poem alternating between the two headstones:

Warm summer sun,

   Shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind,

    Blow softly here.

Green sod above,

   Lie light, lie light.

Good night, dear heart,

    Good night, good night.

Beetlejuice immediately seized and collapsed to his knees, hugging the two marbled stones.

“I’ll be in the car if you need anything,” Lydia rubbed his shoulder and left Beetlejuice there crying.

“Thank you Lydia.” Beetlejuice looked at her with sad eyes.

Lydia nodded and walked away, her boots digging into the gravel path, the sound retreating as she got further and further away.

Beetlejuice rubbed the gravestones longingly, hoping that wherever they ended up that they might feel his soothing touch. Lydia brought him here to say goodbye and to leave the letter he wrote.

He couldn’t do It right away, but opted to sit there a little while longer. It seemed like ages went by but he knew that Lydia would be in the car and she had to go to bed and eat sometime. He’d hate to leave but he could always teleport here anytime. Beetlejuice bit down on his thumb, biting down hard enough to make it bleed. Knowing a rune that he had learned as a child, smeared his blood on Adam and Barbara’s grave. A triangle and three circles on each point and then a small inverted heart in the middle. He’s going to come here often.

Beetlejuice summoned a bouquet of flowers for each of them.

For Adam:

Rosemary

A Crimson Rose

Purple Hyacinth

Red Carnation

For Barbara:

Pink Carnation

Primrose

Sweet Pea

Forget-me-nots

He placed them and stood up, but before he would forget, he dug a little hole where he stuffed his letter in. They wouldn’t read it, but having it nearby their graves made it feel like that would.

He returned to the car soon after, and let himself in. Lydia had it running and was ready to go when he got in.

“Thanks again,” Beetlejuice said softly.

“You needed closure and you can always come back,” Lydia leaned over her seat and hugged her best friend again. “I’ll miss them everyday.” She sighed. Beetlejuice nodded his head in agreement, it was a small movement but nonetheless it was seen. His hair throughout this entire interaction has never reverted to its usual green, staying on that deep purple and blue. Lydia let go and drove to her hotel.

It will never be the same for Beetlejuice ever again, he loved them and knows he’ll never see them again and will never feel that same love again. Sure, Lydia is his best friend, but nothing would fill that void left in his unbeating heart after today. Lydia reassured him that time heals all wounds and even she missed her dead mom, dad and step-mom but it got easier when she met people like Beetlejuice to make her feel better. He had a little flutter in his chest but paid no mind to it. He wished that he didn’t have to live this cursed world, but having good company made it worth the while.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They watched the car drive past the graveyard gates from up above, tears flowing down their faces. They didn’t want to fade away but that’s the next progression of their after life. They initially believed that the Netherworld was definitely the end, but here? The Aether was just as everyone imagined it to be, like the Netherworld, they were forbidden to interact with the realms but they could watch whenever and whom ever they pleased.

This made Adam and Barbara so happy. They loved Beetlejuice and it broke their hearts seeing him mope for months until Lydia stopped by. They wanted to hug them but it was not allowed.

“Thank you Beetlejuice, we love you.” Barbara whispered.

“Lawrence, I’ll never forget you.” Adam wiped away a tear from his face.

[ellaintrigue]

I've had health problems for nearly a decade now, stemming from urinary things. Things I would already have but on top of it I get kidney stones which is sadly genetic. I am on a diet for it but nonetheless I get the fucking bastards roughly yearly at this point. When I first started getting them I would jump in the horse bucket, which was always cold, to numb the pain. Last year I went to the ER with one and they found out I had passed it but it had, well, ripped up my pee hole. I was in agony!

So last week I didn't feel well, then got my period, still didn't feel well. Swollen ovaries and the OTHER shit I get (I have so much going on). Well, I got up one morning and just doubled over. I was having cramps almost as bad as when I went to the ER last September. Fuck! I was in intense, INTENSE pain to the point I was almost gasping. It lasted 20 minutes while I contemplated going to the doctor, then I felt cramped for 3 days after that.

Finally I figured out, or my best guess, was that the stone was in my bladder so I could barely piss for two days. I was miserable but just went to work on the computer as usual. The problem with these kinds of pains and also regular fatigue and my other issues is that it all makes me weak, dizzy, and unable to focus. So while I would most definitely call out of work at my previous, physical job, with the computer job I can barely work either because I have to read and write and well, my head is a blur. A lot of people, including my mom, don't understand that. Like hey, your job is just on a computer, why can you just sit and work?

The last night of this nonsense I got wasted which isn't great but holy fuck, pain. (I don't normally binge or get shit faced, believe it or not.) They gave me painkillers at the ER last year and I took them the day I had bad cramps but I am not a pill kind of girl. Only take that shit if you're dying. Plus the pee factor. I drink citrus, vinegar and all that but in the end nothing makes you piss like alcohol. I've literally used beer to push out a stone before because it makes me pee so much. And the real irony is that alcohol in general inhibits the development of stones. If I didn't drink I could very well end up with much bigger and more problematic stones. Obviously no one should drink but sometimes life has its laughable moments.

I was in pain the whole night despite the booze which means it was pretty bad and the next day I woke up bleeding. I had finally passed the motherfucker without going to the ER to whine. Woo hoo! Now to look out for infection. People have told me to go to a specialist, blah blah but I already have and between that, my GP, and the ER I've had everything tested and I just have a weak bladder, messed up female parts, and scarring. So there's really nothing anyone can do since I don't retain urine or anything dangerous. I just have to live with it, which is fine, EXCEPT THE DAMN STONES which will happen anyway. All I can do is diet. There is no sure fire way to prevent kidney stones, especially when they run in the family.

I honestly think the worst part is that not many people really listen to me during these times because they either think I'm seeking attention or it's too much drama for them. All I told mom and other people was that I was doubling over in pain that one morning and was trying to get past it. I wasn't rambling in an emotional way or crying, just stating a fact when people asked how I was. Mom rapidly changed the topic while I was sitting there squirming and sweating (I mean she has fucking cancer so I probably shouldn’t even say anything to her about my issues to be fair). Then over the course of the day everyone stopped talking to me as soon as I mentioned I was sick except for my best friend who just changed the topic on me and another guy I talk to who was like, "wow that sucks, I hope you feel better!" That man had told me before how he hurt his leg and we have honest conversations. He seems really cool but at the same time I don't think I should have to be surprised when someone is nice or sticks around when I'm not having a good day. Again I wasn't screaming or bitching, just saying I was trying to pass a kidney stone and that I was hurting!

Years ago when I was with the ex before last I had an episode I get very rarely but is very agonizing. Doctors can't quite figure it out, they think it's something to do with a bad nerve near my heart if I remember right. Basically I feel like I have indigestion but the cramps spread throughout my jaw and shoulders. It feels like I'm being crushed and stabbed around my shoulders and I can't move or function, it's agonizing pain in waves. I normally just cry from the pain but it was fucking  ridiculous one night so I was literally wailing. All I could feel were these excruciating waves of agony from my jaw to my shoulders. So I was laying on the bed nearly paralyzed from it because every time I moved it hurt worse. And my ex started yelling at me to stop it. “Stop crying! Just stop this!!” Then he huffed out of the room angry and I literally forgot about him because I was in too much pain to care. He didn't calm down until I did, because he couldn't stand my cries of pain. He didn't offer to do anything to help.

In 2017 I got the same thing, RIGHT before my last ex came over. He texted me to unlock the door and the second he saw me he knew I wasn't right. I could only gasp to him that I was sick because of the pain again radiating around my shoulders making it so I couldn't move my neck. I choked out the my body was seized up and he instantly took action. He filled up the bathtub and put me down in it and started working his hands around my shoulders to try and loosen up my muscles or whatever was causing the pain. It eventually went away and I apologized for ruining the night. He said that I hadn't and that I was also never under any obligation to have sex with him. He said we could always do whatever I wanted, even when I wasn't sick. I will never forget his kindness because once when I was having horrible period cramps I had another ex tell me that he wished I could just fuck him anyway or at least blow him when I was sick. Sometimes it really does feel like most people only care about themselves.

[vinylhazza]

hii i love your concepts!!! could you write something about either y/n being deaf or about y/n and ethan or graysons child being deaf? i have this scene in my head that y/n is at a family party of theirs and someone tries talking to her or maybe the moment they get their hearing aids and hear for the first time? i think its a really cute concept; theyd deal really well with a disabled gf especially since we saw how they are with molly :)

grayson didn’t see it as something wrong with you. he didn’t see it has something that was holding you back - even your relationship back. in fact, it actually brought you closer. your strength to overcome such a big hurdle with this grace and confidence was something he couldn’t ever forget about. you had the boy hooked, absolutely infatuated almost instantly.

he had to think of all of the ways to get inside your heart with so many other acts of devotion. it pushed him to know you inside and out. his heart started fluttering not over small minuscule things but over the graceful movement of your hands when you would sign. the way you would speak every word along with the motions as if he would have trouble understanding. the way words seemed...unnecessary when you were with each other. with a look into your eyes he would understand. you were connected, and you’d never felt that with anyone since you lost your hearing. everyone always struggled...but not him. he was smitten quite quickly. but now his heart was full of fiery love. it wasn’t something he’d ever experienced before, but it drove him crazy how head over heels he was for you.

he adored that everything in the relationship was authentic. you had a different way of looking at the world and chose to share that with he and ethan daily and teach them new ways to appreciate the world around him. you opened his eyes to another side of his heart. but he wanted to give you something back...but what? in your eyes, just him giving you is undecided attention and trusting you with his heart was enough. the fact that he tried to hard to make sure you always felt normal and included was enough. the way he kissed your eyelids every night before bed was enough. the way he taught you how fucking amazing the sexual side of life could be was enough.

it was something you never opened up about because who would understand? it was embarrassing enough that you had to put forth so much effort to do every day tasks, but then he knew that no one had ever shown you what it was like to feel touched. you just wanted to hear his voice, you knew it would be just as beautiful as his body and his kind heart. just feeling the vibrations while you’re laying against his chest makes you shiver even if you can’t hear it.

you had lost your hearing at 15 and spent so long trying to adapt to your new way of life that you honestly forgot about the whole dating thing...until grayson. the sudden life change took you off the market in its entirety. but then grayson fucking dolan had to come in and make it impossible for you to not love him. he was honestly the only man that you fell hard for. i mean hard.

it was interesting that he went through so much to chase after you even when you repeatedly turned him down countless times - with your own fear that he would figure out it is actually something that will be a major factor in the relaitonship. but he was persistent. everytime he looked at you...it was like this fire erupted in you. you couldn’t take that heat one night when he leaned in just slightly, staring at your lips intently, longingly. you had been the one to smash them together, closing your eyes and letting every hightened sense take the lead in your motions. slow, fluid, passionate, unmatched. the feeling of his hands reaching up to cup your face to keep you in place as he worked at your lips almsot had you convinced you were in a dream. there is no way he’s this perfect. it had been electric, and you knew right then that...you were inevitably in fucking mushy, gag worthy, love woth grayson bailey dolan.

he made it a point everyday to try make things as easy as he could for you with his crazy lifestyle. it was actually easier than either of you thought. you clicked like puzzle pieces. you even started appearing in the videos. at first you refrained from signing in case it was annoying for the viewers because you could talk quite fine, but grayson had shut that down real quick. he assured you it was okay to be yourself, that you never have to hide your light and uniqueness from anyone.

the day he suprised you in his bedroom one evening was one day you’d never forget. he had been taking classes to practice more with signing, an online class where he could live chat with an instructor and make sure he could actually have fluid conversations. once he was fully equipped and practiced enough, he was ready to surprise her.

he had sat through many conversations and breakdown sessions about your lack of hearing. kissed your head when you expressed your longing to finally hear his voice, hear your mother’s voice, hear your favorite song again. you had a doctors appointed to check and see if you could get hearing aids to hear for the first time since you were 15. the doctor had told you that you were a perfect candidate, but unfortunately you didn’t have the money to go through with it.

grayson had walked into your room, scaring you only slightly when he grabbed the book you were invested in out of your hands and tilting your chin to look up at him.

then he started signing.

really fluid hand motions, explaining that he had been practicing to surprise you, take classes, and had a surprise for you. you are looking at him in awe, grinning dreamily up at the man that God decided to send to you for reasons unknown to you. he was mouthing along, eyes tearing up when you started to cry, gentle rocks of your shoulders letting him know that not only were you impressed and thankful, but happy that he would do that for you. that he really loved you enough to jump headfirst into the lifestyle.

but what really got you was him explaining that he had set up a doctors appointment for your hearing aids. he would pay for the entire things, down to the very dime, just to make his loves dream come true. he was going to fly your mom in to come to the appointment, so you could hear her on the same day. all of the people you loved would be there - and he would be holding your hand the whole time.

you broke down into a series of sobs, jumping from the bed to hook your legs around his waist, burying your face into his neck as he rocked you back and forth, rubbing circles into your back to sooth you through this moment...you would finally get to hear him say i love you. after all this time...you would finally hear his voice speaking to you. you would finally hear ethan, who you are sure will crack a joke about the whole situation, in a kind hearted way of course. and you will finally be able to hear your parents voice for the first time since your teen years...this is almost too good to be true.

this man has given you a gift so sacred, so cherished by you and it hasn’t even happened yet. he explains it will be next week on tuesday. the appointment will be at 1pm, just enough time to pick up your parents from the airport.

you hope all goes well, and you cry once more just thinking of finally hearing the love of your life speak to you for the very first time.

...

part 2?

[incoherentbabblings]

Take Back the Cake, Burn the Shoes, and Boil the Rice (9/11)

Within two months there have been two murders of Gotham newlyweds moments after the ceremony. The only connecting factor was both brides wore the same designer’s work. Needing to establish who exactly is behind the crimes, Bruce enlists Tim and Stephanie to have the biggest wedding Gotham high society has seen in decades, putting a target on their heads not just for the killer, but Gotham society too. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

Ao3 Link Here!

*A little bit nsfw towards the end in this chapter, but nothing explicit*

The rehearsal at the Cathedral had been hilarious. Cassandra had been distracted the entire time, on her phone even when walking with Dick down the aisle. Bruce has sat in the front row pew and promptly passed out, only for Alfred to repeatedly nudge him. Alfred, who was in his element of bossing people around and making arrangements for everything under the sun, seemed to be relishing the chance to do his actual job.

Bruce looked a little affronted at Alfred’s nudges. Tim sighed, then explained,

“You are supposed to be walking Steph to the midway point.”

“I am?”

He turned back, to see Crystal sat one row behind, glaring at him. Bruce promptly turned back around. Steph was far away in her mind and body, staring at the entrance all the way down the far end of the aisle, remembering what had happened the other week. Tim was pacing back and forth along the steps in front of where the Dean stood.  Dean Shergate’s impressive eyebrows twitched at how distracted everyone was, whilst Dick had strewn himself across the altar floor as if he belonged there.

“The ceiling is really nice!” He said, flippant and enjoying the chaotic mood. Damian, being designated ring boy and intensely bored, yelled across the length of the aisle.

“Hurry up! This is ridiculous.”

Stephanie looked down at the tiny angry puffball and nodded thoughtfully. Cassandra clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers, pointing to Tim.

“He’s right.” She said, eyes never leaving her phone.

The Dean coughed and Tim jumped a mile.

“Yes yes! Mister Wayne, walk Miss Brown to the end of the aisle on her left-hand side, whereupon Mister Drake will be waiting on her right-hand side and walk the rest of the way into the chapel together as a pair. Mister Wayne will then walk behind the couple next to…the younger Mister Wayne and then take their seats…” And on the instructions went. Stephanie and Damian, at the back of the room, were unable to hear a thing.

“This is ridiculous.” Damian grumbled once again.

“You think?” Stephanie giggled. “Have you ever attended a wedding before?”

“No. They are boring.”

“True. Hopefully not this one.”

Damian kicked his toes on the floor, a habit he had picked up from Dick to indicate restlessness. “Father is not being very open with this case.” He said quickly. Stephanie looked down to see Damian’s cheeks burning red.

“What do you mean?”

“He won’t tell me any progress with the investigation.”

Stephanie nodded emphatically. “He won’t tell me or Tim either. Which is unhelpful.”

“To say the least.”

“Do you know why?” She asked. Damian shook his head. “Huh.” She blew a gust of air out, disturbing her bangs, and shoved her hands in her jean pockets.

She saw Bruce waltzing down to her, plodding himself to the right.

“Other side Mister Wayne!”

Bruce slid behind her, making her laugh despite herself, and Damian continued to grumble, dragging his feet after them. Steph took Bruce’s arm and tried not to gawk at how solid his muscles were. She knew he was built like a brick tank, of course she did, but still… Bruce was beefy.

“Who said I was going to be the one walking you down?” Bruce asked, tone light.

“Well, I guess Alfred was an option. But this whole thing was your idea. Mom wants as little to do with this as possible so…”

“Humph. Vengeance.”

Steph smiled as they reached Tim, who was actually a little sweaty. She would have taken his hand but judging by the way he was rubbing it on his trousers, it would be a little slippery.

“Jesus, Tim.” She tried not to laugh. The Dean was less amused and coughed very loudly. Instantly, she turned white. “Sorry.”

A grunt was all she got in return.

So it was fun in all the wrong ways. Dick and Cassandra, who made a career out of being gnats, had genuinely been intensely unhelpful throughout the whole thing, testing the patience of everyone in the room. Bruce was his usual foppish self, Damian had done as he was told, but made his displeasure deeply known, Crystal had frowned, and Alfred had been distracted, focused on other things.  All whilst Tim and Stephanie tried very hard to practice the vows. They had not written their own, God forbid they were that invested in the soppiness, but when they were going through the usual phrases, Tim broke off through his, a little befuddled.

“…and thereto I give thee my troth…Quick question?”

The Dean’s face became pinched tightly shut. “Yes, Mr Drake?”

“Steph has the obey line in hers, right?”

The Dean struggled not to roll his eyes at this usual bone of contention. “Yes, she does.”

“Can she like... not… say it?”

This seemed to break Damian, who promptly ran back down the aisle, heading for the front door. Cassandra bolted after him, chasing the teenager through the building. Bruce did not rise from where he had crumpled amongst the pews, and instead his head fell down in frustration.

“I’m not doing this anymore!” Damian was heard screeching through what was an otherwise silent building. There was a rough oompf, as Cassandra caught up with him, and wrangled him off his feet.

Tim blinked, keeping his eyes on the Dean, but he did not miss how Dick next to him was turning red and looking like he had sucked a lemon.

Everyone aside from Tim watched as Damian was dragged back, which seemed to take an uncomfortably long amount of time. Eventually he went limp in Cassandra’s arms, and she tugged him all the way back up the aisle, his heels and legs splayed out as Cassandra shuffled backwards. When they returned to the chapel, Damian threw himself with a huff next to his father, folded his arms, and made an almighty pout. Bruce kept his head down and said nothing.

There was a moments silence as everyone’s heads turned back around to get back to business, but then Crystal’s hand shot up, as if she were in a classroom. The Dean, more than a little put out and desperate to move past whatever Damian’s tantrum was, nodded at her. Crystal leaned forward eagerly.

“Uh, yes. Cut that line, please.”

“Mommy!” Stephanie protested, trying very hard to not laugh. She tilted her head away, sniggering to herself. Obeying was not something that came naturally to her. Tim stubbornly held his eyes on the Dean, refusing to indulge in the hysterics of his family. The Dean’s face was very white, like he was holding in all manner of blasphemous phrases. He managed to bite out,

“It is not uncommon for many to drop it from their oaths these days.”

“So, she can?” Tim asked.

“Can ‘she’ give her own opinion?” Laughed Stephanie. Tim’s fingers twitched around hers. Yup, sweaty hands. Poor boy.

“Do you want to say it?” He asked, completely lost.

She held a straight face, looking Tim dead in the eye. After a breath, she broke character and laughed. “Not really.”

Tim took a moment, then caught up with her joke, snorting in response. The Dean looked upwards and muttered a silent prayer, regretting agreeing to the plan to host a wedding at all.

“That’s absolutely fine… Now please switch hands.”

They did as bid, and the rehearsal continued. Dick was starting to turn purple he was holding in so much laughter, and it was then that Tim decided he was going to murder his eldest brother. When it got to the bit where they would (hypothetically) be signing the register, the Dean went to talk to the rest of the family, leaving Tim and Steph standing at the altar.

Tim ran his hands across the wood carvings in the banisters, settling to rub his thumb on an eagle’s beak.

“Tim?”

Tim made a querying noise but didn’t look Stephanie’s way. This was just as well, as she was nervously picking at her nails, not looking at Tim either.

“My dress tonight… is red.”

“Oh? Well… it’s a good colour.”

Steph giggled, then quietened. She stopped picking her nails and rammed her hands in her back pockets once more, not sure what to do with herself.

“Alfred actually said… well he got me thinking. The…the…the tiara… is it…”

“Still yours?”

“Oh God. Tim, I’m so sorry…” Before she could get too upset, Tim grabbed her hand and squeezed it to the point where someone else would have found it painful, but Steph felt the reassurance. The two were still not looking at each other, but she smiled and Tim answered her question.

“I’ll bring it over for this evening. My mom had a whole bunch of stuff. Let you take your pick.”

“Thank you.”  She shook her head, tossing her hair back behind her shoulders. “I got to pick this outfit you know. Cut, colour, pattern… all me. Making sure my hair’s down.”

The hand holding had quickly turned to flat out fondling of the other’s fingers, playing with knuckles and rings. Steph broke first, and looked at the back of Tim’s head. She headbutted his shoulder.

“Okay?”

Tim looked back, over to Bruce, frowning. “Nervous.”

“Oh. There’s a twist huh? You get cold feet. Runaway groom.”

Her light tone did not match Tim’s openly concerned face. Finally, he looked down at her, and without a hint of shame, he said, “Not running from you.”

Steph blushed, and Tim kissed the very tip of her button nose.

Dick wolf whistled then, which earned a glare from the couple and a smack on the shoulder from Bruce.

Tim’s urge to murder Dick continued through to the evening, when Dick poked his head through to Tim’s room. Tim, who was painstakingly arranging his hair just so in his Henry Poole suit, looked increasingly stressed as the day had wore on.

“You alright there Timbo?”

“Like my heart is gonna give out any second. Peachy.”

“Well, if only you’d have let me do a bachelor party for you…”

“God, no.”

Dick looked a little affronted, but only in an amused way. Shutting the bedroom door behind him, he laid across the bed watching Tim fidget. Slowly, as the silence stretched, Dick’s expression grew increasingly worried.

“Seriously,” He pushed. “What happened the other night? I checked on that drug lord yesterday and the guy is looking like an injured looney tunes character. Never seen so many bandages.”

Tim rocked, looking at Dick upside down, head hanging off the back of the seat. “You ever have a rough week, but then it’s actually like…a rough five years?”

Dick snorted. “It can feel like that. Yes.” Dick rolled onto his back. “I’m sure if I stopped and thought about it, I could make an argument that my life has been nothing but a downward spiral the past twenty years… but that would ignore how much good I’ve done and experienced. It’s always easier to focus on the bad, because we expect happiness as a norm. That’s dangerous I think.”

Tim sat up straight and turned around to look at Dick properly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you go through life measuring your time as a sort of happy-sad binary, with the goal always to be on the happy end, deviations will seem worse, because you’ve convinced yourself they’re abnormal. That it’s supposed to be like that. I don’t think of my life’s purpose is to be happy. It makes me take the good for granted and the pain hurts even worse.”

“What do you do then?” Tim asked.

At that, Dick shrugged. “Dunno. That’s where my guruness expires.”

Tim turned back around. “Helpful.”

“I try.” Dick yawned. “By the way… be sure to compliment Steph. And make sure you don’t dance with any other girls – Cass and Babs and maybe Selina aside.”

“I know that.”

“She’s a right picture at the moment.”

Like a yoyo, Tim spun around once more. “You’ve seen her? Is she ready?”

Dick crossed his arms, a little huffy. “We’re all ready! Just waiting on you and your master hair fluffing!”  

Taking one last look at himself, Tim bolted out of his room, leaving Dick lounging on his bed.

“…At least he’s wearing a nice suit…” Dick muttered to himself.

Tim found Stephanie watching the catering staff walk by along the servant's corridors. Her back was to him, and she was bent partially in half, peeking round the corner like a naughty schoolgirl to see what was going on in the kitchen.

She was indeed wearing another red dress, whereas the one from the photo shoot had been crimson, strapless and with a sweetheart neckline, this was a deep blood red, the colour of Tim’s Red Robin suit. It was off the shoulder, but still with a higher neckline, and – like she had promised – her hair was down, with braids and twists providing a base for the tiara to be pinned to.

From the hand that was resting on the wall, he could see she was wearing another piece that belonged to his mother. A hidden wristwatch in a gold that matched the rest of her jewellery.

“Wow.” Tim said.

Stephanie straightened and turned. Tim didn’t miss how greedily she looked at him up and down, biting her red lips.

“Wow yourself!” She moved towards him, injury in her leg largely healed. Her eyes sparkled, the colour popping against her dark makeup. “Don’t we make a pair!”

“Wow.” He repeated.

With the red lip, smoky eyes, and hair so carefully arranged, it was the most done up he had ever seen her. A real bombshell.  Depending on how far through the ceremony they got, the girl in front of him might actually end up as his wife in less than twenty-four hours.

Wow.

“I’d kiss you,” Steph teased. “But you’d get a horrid lipstick stain on your cheek.”

“I’ll do one better then.” And then he kissed her cheek instead. A quick peck, but slow enough that he could feel her cheeks grow warm.

“Flirt.”

He took her hand. “Oh, look who’s talking.”

She immediately noticed he was nervous and swung their hands from side to side. “Honey, take a breath. I’m the anxious wreck. Not you.”

His chest puffed up. “Tonight, there’s gonna be some real...”

“Difficult...people?” She giggled. Tim exhaled in such a puff of air Stephanie felt her waves of hair be blown back.

“Rich people are the worst.” He grumbled. Steph simply raised her eyebrows, expression excruciatingly polite. Tim turned redder than her dress. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but I can see you thinking it.”

Steph laughed incredulously, pinching Tim’s cheek like an overly friendly aunty. Alfred then found them and, in typical prim Alfred form, told them to get out of the staff’s way and go help Bruce host.

Near the front entrance, where people were being let in, one of the tables appeared to be filling up with gifts. The pile of presents was a little alarming. Stephanie very much doubted there was a toaster amongst the neatly wrapped piles that sat on the table.

“We’ll donate them...” Tim said, seeing Stephanie’s face.

“You mean I can’t keep the cheques?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

Twelve women and five men told Stephanie how beautiful she looked, and she believed about a third were being genuine. There were seven courses for dinner, and mercifully Alfred had the foresight to sandwich Stephanie between Damian and Cassandra, with Tim sat between Dick and Bruce. Babs and her father were just a couple of people down, whilst the entire Fox family took up another side. Nearly regretting it the moment she made the motion, Steph gave a tiny wave to Tam, who looked a little confused but waved back. Tim seemed quite happy to pretend she wasn’t there, which Steph thought was a little rude, but then again, she still didn’t really know what had happened there. Regardless, she was just thankful an ex of Tim’s didn’t seem to bear a grudge.

The rest of the table seemed to be taken up with WE board members, and other high-flying society folk of Gotham that Stephanie recognized neither the face nor names of. Mrs van Rijk was sat with her husband, critiquing every piece of food that passed her lips. Alfred, who was stood at the far side of the room, only narrowed his eyes at her and kept his mouth shut. Otherwise he seemed utterly overjoyed at getting to Butler it up once more.

Bruce stood up after dessert, looking like he was going to make a speech. Tim’s mouth dropped open, and he looked to Dick, who once again was enjoying the secondhand embarrassment too much to be anything but sadistic. Damian entered a panic and tried to leave like he had at the cathedral, only for Cassandra once again to catch him and glare. If they had to endure it, so did he. Suddenly having a row of diners staring at him, Damian slowly returned to his seat. Indulgently, Steph rubbed his back. She was trying to be sweet on Damian, and thankfully he did nothing but blush at the attempt of sympathy.

Bruce coughed, tapping at his crystal glass to get everyone’s attention. He did it for a moment too long and the crystal shattered under the constant pressure of his tapping with the little cheese knife. Everyone jumped, whilst Bruce stared into his hand, then very carefully, very methodically, put down what remained of the stem of the glass. He coughed again, fanning his wet hand dry and clearing his throat whilst Alfred whizzed around, cleaning up the mess expertly.

“I won’t bore you all with a long speech,” Bruce begun.

“Good.” Tim muttered under his breath. Dick kicked him, and when Tim turned to him, outraged, Dick had that terrible manic look on his face, a closed mouth smile and wide eyes that was telling Tim something. Keep your mouth shut probably.

“Listen.” Dick mimed.

Oh. Close enough.

Stephanie pressed backwards into her chair. It was too heavy to roll back on its hindlegs, which would have been humiliating if she had rolled all the way back, legs and skirt flying upwards. She gripped the table and smiled, channelling her inner customer service smile.

Bruce seemed blithely unaware of his children’s distress (liar. He knew. He knew and did not care. In fact, he probably revelled in it) and soldiered on.

“I know this has been a bit of a whirlwind these past two months…”

Steph’s painted nails had started to make crescent shaped imprints on the wood of the table.

“…But – in fact – it was a long time coming. I am… extremely lucky to have these two in my life. They found me and wriggled their way in. All I can say is, I still see that thirteen-year-old boy who insisted I was Batman –” People politely laughed at the absurdity of the statement. Tim stared at Bruce, mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies. “– And the fifteen-year-old girl who has since proved me wrong so many times I don’t bother to keep count anymore.”

Steph’s smile turned a little less frigid, and her grip lessoned. Tim meanwhile remained unmoved, still gabbing like a fish.

“You have no idea, how glad I am that you two have each other… Point is, I’m proud of you both.” Then, seemingly as an afterthought, Bruce spilled out, “You are still my kids though, so please don’t go too far after all this, you know I have separation anxiety.”

Dick’s incredibly loud bark of laughter made Tim jump, knocking over another crystal glass. Alfred mysteriously appeared to give two refreshed glasses to Tim and Bruce. A toast was made, and somehow, everyone seemed a little choked up. Tim threw his glass of sparkling water back like it was a shot of vodka.

“Dancing time?” Bruce asked, and the table clapped and chatted and began to migrate away. Tim didn’t miss Tam’s look of confusion, like she really didn’t know if she should be happy for Tim or not.

“That was unbearable.” Damian muttered, shoving his seat back and looking to go sit on the balcony.

“No lie though.” Cassandra said. Bruce shot her a dangerous look, but before he could leave the room, Stephanie kicked back her chair and rushed around the whole length of the table. She threw herself into Bruce’s arms for a tight hug.

Tim shot up from his seat, Dick catching his cuff.

“Be nice.” Dick hissed.

Stephanie rocked from side to side, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you!”

Bruce, ever an awkward man, patted her elbows, and carefully broke away. Stephanie remained undeterred though, and decided to keep badgering him. “Promise to dance with me in a bit?”

Because we’re not going to get the chance tomorrow went unsaid, but Bruce heard it all the same. Slowly, he nodded. Backing away, Steph went to grab Tim’s hand and together they made their way to the ballroom. Tim, who seemed increasingly lost as the night went on, held on tight. Bruce watched the pair. It seemed almost like both could not be confident at the same time. Things would come along and knock one back, and the other would turn around and drag them forward, back to normality, back to a sense of purpose, until the inevitable moment when the roles would flip, and the other would stumble.

Bruce told himself that the pattern would break. That soon the two would be able to rest, to see the fruits of their labour beyond a smile here and there, a thank you from time to time, and a pat on the shoulder on the rarest of occasions. The gig was supposed to be temporary for Tim, and for Steph it was a decade’s long culmination of searching for a life’s purpose. A second chance she’d said. Surely, she had succeeded by now.

Not for the first time, Bruce wished that his kids would give up the life they had chosen for themselves and go be normal.

Such a wish was impossible however, and Bruce knew that. Too much baggage and too much empathy meant other options were alien and disconnected from what they truly wanted. What they needed.

Bruce watched them dance, awkwardly, like they were attending the prom they never got to, but also saw how happy they were whilst doing it. He watched as they spoke to many people, most of whom Stephanie had never even met before, and somehow managed to make a good impression with. He watched Tim sidestep and Stephanie deflect every potential pointed barb, every stab in the dark to find something at fault with her character. Some hint that whatever hold she had over Tim would snap and break before the year was out. It did not escape Bruce’s notice that Stephanie’s grip on Tim’s arm was white knuckled by the end. They’d done very well, but by the time the last person had left, it was two o’clock in the morning and Stephanie had collapsed at the foot of the main stairwell, shrugging off her shoes with a wince. Tim was being a good boy scout and doing what he could to help Alfred clean up.

Bruce walked by, about to enter the cave, when he paused, and after a brief argument with himself, sat down next to Stephanie. She smiled, and as she hiked up her skirts so she could rub her feet, she asked,

“All good?”

“You and Tim have done so well.”

Steph scoffed. “Don’t lie. There’s been more than enough slip ups to warrant a lecture.”

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes, then a lecture may be due.”

Stephanie slowly stopped rubbing her feet and looked to Bruce. “You… you sure this person is going to turn up tomorrow?”

“I’m sure.”

“So, you know who it is?”

“Yes.”

Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. “For how long?”

“Just after Bishop Sherborne’s death. It shouldn’t have taken me that long, but when they were trying to frighten you, not to kill you, they slipped up, and I got the confirmation I needed.”

“I… Bruce. I don’t understand. So, you’ve known for weeks? But why haven’t you…?” She huffed, leaning back. “There’s something else going on here. Isn’t there?”

No response. Stephanie felt like throttling Bruce but tried to stay encouraging. “Tell me. I can help?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I wonder if that’s your most commonly used phrase. You are helping Stephanie. The murderer saw what a big event this was going to be and shot at you to help raise the stakes. Toying with us. But they slipped up, and they’re going to get that big ending. I swear that.”

Oh. Bruce wanted as much of a spectacle as possible. That made sense.

“Also…” Bruce looked over his shoulder, ensuring Tim was nowhere in sight. “It gives you and Tim a bit more of a reason to ‘take a break’.”

She looked at him out the corner of her eye.

“You know…don’t you?”

“Know what?”

Oh God. He was going to make her say it. Fine, she would embarrass him. Tim had once thrown a fit in front of Bruce, essentially declaring his love for her whilst telling Bruce to get screwed. It was the first time he’d said he’d loved her (hers was months before… the hormones from the baby had made the L word slip out a little early, or so she’d told herself at the time). Tim had also picked her up and kissed her right in front of Bruce after they’d caught up with her post-Africa. If Tim had no issue being open about his affections, Stephanie saw no reason to either. Quietly, almost pleadingly, she said,

“That I’m in love with your son. That we want to be together for real when this is all over.”

Bruce exhaled, and wrung his hands. Stephanie tried to not let his silence eat at her, but it did, and she grabbed his wrist, as if the physical contact would change his mind. Bruce looked down. Tim had tried the same thing the other day, but with Stephanie he knew she wasn’t trying to get him off her back, if anything she’d wanted him to be more involved.

“Bruce… is that okay with you?”

“Ask him about Captain Boomerang.” He said, tone short. He watched the blank confusion pass over Stephanie’s expression, and he felt a pang of disappointment in Tim.

“What? What about him? What’s he got to do with –”

“If he hasn’t told you, then he’s hiding the truth because he feels guilty, and he’s frightened of your reaction. That’s not a relationship built to last. Ask him about Harkness. Regardless of what you think of it all, you deserve to know what Tim did.”

Stephanie’s confusion turned to frustration and consternation. “I don’t understand?”

Bruce shook his head, knowing that now the thought was planted, Stephanie wouldn’t let it go. He got back on his feet and looked down at her.

“I’m going to patrol now. Tomorrow I might be late coming to the cathedral. If I am…start without me.”

As she listened to Bruce, Stephanie tilted her head like a confused puppy. “Please let me and Tim help?”

“Help Tim first.”

“But I’m the one who needs hel —”

“I promise you Stephanie… you’re not.”

She stared at the floor as Bruce walked away. What she supposed he intended as a comforting moment for Stephanie instead made her outraged on Tim’s behalf.

“You should have more faith in him.” She called out across the room. She heard Bruce stop and turn, and slowly she raised her determined gaze to meet his sad one. She choked on her final words, “You should…”

She stopped, feeling she was starting to project paternal issues too much, and hoisted herself upwards, picking her shoes off the floor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Bruce. Thank you for the speech today. It meant a lot.” Then she turned away, trying to maintain the last word, and made her way upstairs. She had been sincere when she spoke, as she hoped it would shame Bruce a little more than snark.

She was spending the night at the manor. The whole don’t see the bride the night before thing seemed a little moot in these circumstances. She wanted one last night with Tim, regardless of what happened tomorrow.

Slowly, carefully, Stephanie sat in Tim’s room at his desk, and took off Janet’s (hers. It was hers now) wristwatch. Janet Drake had kept all kinds of beautiful pieces. Lots of rings. Lots of pendants. Lots of earrings. Steph had opted for the watch and the tiara, conscious that anything more would have made her look like a magpie, like someone of new money. She knew that was something Gotham society hated. She felt like she was living in the Great Gatsby.

Her head was aching however, and she knew it was from the tiara and the pins holding it in place. Ten hours of it sitting on her, weight light at first but pressing down by the end made her grunt a little. One lady had recognized it as Janet’s and had actually got a little teary eyed; she had seemed so proud. Two weeks ago, Stephanie would have scoffed, but now it just made her feel warm. She wondered if Janet would have liked her. Jack had been indifferent at first. He probably thought what Tim and her had was nothing more than a typical teenage romance. Then everything had come pouring out about Robin and the baby and… well, maybe she was a bad influence on Tim, but she also mattered a lot more then Jack first thought. The way Tim spoke about his mother suggested she was the one with the emotional intelligence, maybe she would have seen Tim and Stephanie were serious almost from the word go. Maybe she would have liked Steph.

Stephanie looked up to the ceiling briefly, hoping that regardless of what Janet thought of her, she wasn’t angry that her jewellery was being worn by Miss Madam from Nowhere.

She was going to start taking the pins out when Tim came in, looking tired and stressed. She smiled at him through the reflection, Bruce’s words stuck in her head. Tim saw what she was doing and made his way over. His fingers found their way up the back of her hair, and began to remove pins, braids and twists uncurling as he did so. He saw her twitch in pain when the tiara was finally lifted off her scalp, and his fingers returned to her head, rubbing to calm the ache.

Stephanie shut her eyes, blissfully happy for a moment. Tim grinned a little cheekily, enjoying her cat like smirk. The mood grew sombre strangely, and Stephanie sighed, opening her eyes once more.

“That wasn’t too bad.” She said.

Tim’s fingers found their way behind her ears, and he watched the shiver go down her spine.

“No… Just… Nervous for tomorrow. Feels like a ticking clock.”

“We’ll help each other through the aftermath.”

“Promise.”

She tugged at his hands, and he leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder, arms lazily crossed in front. Her makeup was a little bit smudged from smiling and eating and generally fading as time went on, and it made her look as tired as she felt. Her leg had started to pulse a little, the wound reminding her of its presence, despite the healing going well.

She buried her fingers in his hair, and in the mirror, Tim noticed that she looked distant, like she was only half present in the moment.

“What is it?”

She ground her teeth, not sure if she should tell the truth or not. This was such an intimate moment, she didn’t want to spoil it by dragging Bruce into the conversation. Tim however, nuzzled her, and asked again. “What’s wrong?”

“Bruce spoke to me… just now.”

“Oh.” Tim scoffed. “That dinner speech was something huh? I can’t figure him out sometimes. What’s genuine and what’s an act.”

“I asked him about the case. Why it was taking so long.”

Tim chewed his tongue, feeling smug in his irritation. “What was his excuse then?”

“Tim… he’s figured it out. He figured it out weeks ago.”

“What?”

“He’s trying to catch them in the act, so there’s no doubts about the guilty. But he said also, if it was a big scene like what he wants, then it leaves us free to do any option. Break up because it was too traumatic, take a moment to catch our breaths… stay together…”

“Mmm.” Tim rocked them from side to side, thinking aloud. “I get all that. But why keep us in the dark? What’s his angle? We’re the ones in danger, right? We should know what we’re up against.”

Stephanie supposed it was to prevent either of them acting a certain way around the suspected parties, but she thought that was a weak excuse. Ignorance wasn’t going to keep them safe. She would have thought Bruce would have learned that by now.

“He said he might be late tomorrow. And to start without him if he is.”

“God, he’s a piece of work sometimes.”

“He also…” She gulped. “Tim… He also said, that if we wanted to stay together after…” Steph felt Tim’s arms tighten around her. Bruce’s judgement on them as a pair was something he could never stomach. “He said… I didn’t want to… I’m sorry if it’s none of my business but he said I should ask about Captain Boomerang? Which… if you want to not talk about your dad and him right now, I get that. And we can forget about it. But…why would he even say to ask?”

Slowly, robotically, Tim’s arms retreated from his cradle of her. She saw in the mirror as he grew pale and backed away.

Thinking he was angry at her, she got up, and began to try and do damage control.

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t need to talk about him. He hurt you in the worst of ways and that’s it. It’s not relevant to now. Bruce is just… he’s just shit-stirring.”

“I hate him sometimes.” Tim’s voice was cracked and dry, barely audible after Stephanie’s pleading explanation.

“No. No don’t say that. He’s just… I don’t know. He’s worried.”

“You’ve said that before. And I went to speak to him. And I told him not to use you to punish me again, and then it’s the same thing over and over.”

“Baby, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”  

She wasn’t mollified. There was something more going on here. Something more than Tim feeling sad about his father and hatred for the murderer.

“Why are you and Bruce so tense round each other?”

“You know.”

He wouldn’t look her in the eye. “No. Don’t start hiding things from me. Not now. Bruce is worried because you’re getting more violent?  Is that it? Because of what Boomerang did to you?”

“Because of what I did to him.”

Steph stared at Tim, not understanding. “Please let me help.” She whispered.

Finally, he looked at her. Screw it, Tim thought. He was so close to being happy, so close to him and Steph setting the groundwork for moving forward, and Bruce, as always, ruined everything.

“I tried to kill him.” He confessed. “After Bruce came back. I tried so hard. And Bruce thinks I don’t deserve to be happy until I regret it. Until I get on my knees and beg for an apology.”

“You don’t regret it?”

“No.” He laughed, incredibly bitter. That was what she had taken umbrage with? Not the attempted murder but his lack of guilt? “Part of me still hopes he comes back so I can…”

He trailed off, noticing Stephanie had stepped away from him. “He ruined my life, Steph. And Dana’s. And my dad…” He pled. She had to understand. She had too.

“I know.”

“I told you, I’m not as far gone as to… jump off the edge or anything. It’s just him.”

“This isn’t like you.” She said. Finally, she returned to him, holding him tight. Tim’s chest still felt strangled, even when Steph whispered into his neck. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t there for you when it all happened.”

“No, God, Steph. Don’t turn this into a blame game.”

“But I can be there for you now.” She ignored him and pulled back a little, her nose brushing Tim’s.  He kept his head stubbornly down. “Tim? Remember we promised we would stick together after all this. I’m not going anywhere if you aren’t.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Stephanie swallowed.

“Why didn’t you then, in the end? I can’t believe it was because your plan failed. You stopped yourself, didn’t you?”

“Dick and Bruce and Damian were watching… I couldn’t stand them judging me. Can’t stand the thought of you…”

Steph’s temper flared, though not at Tim, not truly. “Wait what? That’s why you stopped? Because daddy might be angry with you?” Tim broke away, pacing a little heatedly, whilst Steph continued. “No way, Tim. You’ve never been afraid of pissing me or Bruce off. I think you’re in denial.”

Incredulous, Tim collapsed on the bed. He kicked off his shoes, sending them flying across the floor. “You and Bruce have been doing this thing recently where you open your mouths and the other person’s words come out.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s weird.” He pouted.

Stephanie moved closer again, and Tim allowed it. Her skirt was voluminous enough that it pressed against Tim’s legs first, until she knelt down in front of him. He wasn’t going to be convinced in one conversation to change his mind regarding Harkness, but she hoped his stubbornness had been thrown into question. Even though he always meant well, if she could point out Tim’s worst flaw, it was that he could be entitled. Entitled to someone’s time, entitled to their emotions, entitled in his world view. He sometimes struggled with seeing things from outside his initial judgement, and it always seemed to take a metaphorical (or literal in one case) earthquake to shake things up for him.

Tim stared at her. She looked a little bit of a mess with her tangled hair and fading makeup, but her skin was so healthy and glowing, even at half two in the morning, she looked so lively. They were both tired, and tomorrow was going to be even more exhausting, but Steph wouldn’t let it lie. Not yet.

“I’m not judging you, Tim. God knows how often I imagined smashing my dad’s head in with a baseball bat. Or with Black Mask… I so nearly shot him when I escaped. I still don’t really know why I didn’t.”

“Because you’re a good person.”

“And so are you.” She smiled, and Tim could feel how in love she was just from that look. “One of the best people I’ve ever known. And I’m not going to let some shitty little man make you believe otherwise. If he does come back to Gotham, call for me, and we’ll deal with him together.” She sighed, then reached up for his hands. “I want you to be happy Tim. But I don’t think that’s the way to it.”

“Do you think that’s life’s point?” He asked, thinking of Dick and his conversation earlier in the evening. “To be happy?”

“Ooft. I don’t know. That’s a toughie.” She shrugged, a little blasé. “I just live. Does it have to have a deeper meaning?”

Finally, Tim smiled, though when he did, a tear slipped out, and he gasped a little. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As she pulled herself up, and fully knowing she was going to get Tim covered in lipstick, she kissed him. He responded enthusiastically, rising off the bed so they could kiss at their usual angle. His hands twitched against her shoulder blades, feeling the fabric of the dress blocking the heat she was radiating. When his fingers brushed over the ribbons that corseted her in, she broke off the kiss and stared at him. She chewed her lip and decided there and then to take a gamble.

She reached back and took one of his hands, pulling him down to the knot. Biting the inside of her cheeks, Stephanie tugged at Tim’s hand, trying to make him understand. It took a moment, but then Tim moved closer so he could stare down over her shoulder and undo the ribbon that held her in the dress. Neither spoke, only their anxious breathing filled the room. Stephanie’s hands were up on Tim’s shoulders, held in loose fists, uncomfortable and unsure. Eventually Tim was able to loosen the dress enough that she was able to wriggle out, and the whole thing collapsed onto the floor. Stephanie immediately pulled Tim in for another kiss, unbearably shy at the thought of him seeing her in her underwear (and less) with all the scars present for him to see and feel guilty over.

He broke away, hands hovering near her waist. He could feel the heat of her, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go and indulge.

“Steph… are you sure?”

“I want it. I want this. I want you. For real.” She begged. “Please, Tim. Please.” He caught her mouth then, one hand buried in her hair, the other pulling on her shoulder, almost as if he was trying to press her into him, melding the two together. He sobbed, desperate, and bit her lip hard enough that she knew it would bruise. She would have to wear a red lip again tomorrow to cover it up.

They broke apart to catch their breath, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same air. Stephanie gulped as she felt Tim shudder. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, breathing laboured, as if he were in acute pain. She brought her hands up to cradle his cheeks. He was limp in her hold, so tired and utterly trusting.

“Tim.”

He opened his eyes to look at her and she tried to appear encouraging. She moved closer, impossibly, so that her chin rested on his shoulder, legs moving to wrap around his hips and waist. He caught her and held her tight, moving to the bed.

When he set her down, she reached up and pulled him back home to her. She soon ended up on his lap with the two of them moving together instinctively. When she felt him press against her she groaned and the kiss turned sloppy.

Tim broke away, Stephanie ensuring the kiss ended with a loud wet noise, and he seemed to be in a huge amount of pain. His eyes were still screwed shut, and whilst his hands – one on her elbow and the other on her shoulder – were gentle in their touch, she could see him shaking from how tense he was.

“Baby, if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“I want to.” He said, tone half begging, half drowning. “But you... I’ve never... And you...”

Words were failing him, so Steph pushed his hair off his forehead. Her smile was fond, but Tim, in his little angst bubble still had his eyes shut.

“Not for a very long time, Tim. And never with anyone I loved.” She giggled. “I’m really nervous too… if that’s any help. But I want to sleep with you.”

They both burned red at it being spoken out loud. They’d both been so tentative about the topic for so long. Steph had largely negative memories regarding her relationship with Dean and the pregnancy it produced. The only bright glimmer was the knowledge that the baby was well looked after and that she had grown so close to Tim during those nine months. She hadn’t felt secure enough to be with anyone else in recent years, and she knew Tim took it seriously. Very seriously. He wanted that safety too, and they had just been so young at first, and then everything was so strained, and they weren’t even together but now… “It’s my promise. To you. That I’m in it for the long haul.”

A long moment passed, until something within Tim seemed to make up its mind, and he grinned. It was the smile Steph didn’t get to see too often but when she did, she was reminded of that cheeky teenager he used to sometimes allow himself to be. There were red lipstick stains all over his lips and cheeks, and his eyes shone. He looked sweet and alive and –

Tim threw Steph back, letting her bounce on the bed and she laughed, watching as he wriggled out of his clothes. She saw the scar from his spleen ruining injury, as well as others that looked like gun shots, burns, stabbings… She sighed in sympathy then looked down at her own hurt body.

Screw it.

She flung off her underwear and held out her arms.  Tim swiftly returned to her, kissing and nipping every bit of skin he could get his mouth on. She gripped his shoulder blades and did not let go for the rest of the night.

No more lies, omissions or half-truths, no more insecurities, and no more blind anger. No matter what happened by tomorrow, she wouldn’t regret being with him, and she prayed that he thought she was worth the effort.

With Tim looking at her like she was made of literal starlight, Stephanie thought maybe her wish had already been given.

[gojira007]

Movie Meme

Took me a bit of time, but I was tagged by @bunnikkila to list my nine favorite movies, and since I can’t help but be ridiculously verbose about that very topic, you can see them all under the cut 8D

As for who I tag?  Well, as always with the caveat that you are free to ignore if you don’t wanna, I’ll go with: @elistodragonwings @kaikaku @donnys-boy @robotnik-mun @sally-mun @fini-mun @werewolf-t33th  @cviperfan and @wildwoodmage​

and don’t worry, if you DO go for it, you don’t have to get as Extra as I did about it XD

9.) 

Look, the meme is about Favorite Movies, not necessarily the BEST Movies, OK?  And for the most part this list consists of films where that division is less meaningful in terms of how I evaluate the other movies on here.  But in this specific case, “Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie”, which is ultimately not all that different from the “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ TV show it spun off from and thus not particularly impressive as a work of Cinema Qua Cinema, makes the cut primarily because it’s a movie I know so well and have enjoyed so often that I can practically recite the whole thing to you by rote; I quote it all the time in my day-to-day life, I think about it often when I need a little smile, and it’s also become my favorite tool for introducing newcomers to MST3K as a whole since it was designed with a slightly broader audience in mind than the more willfully-eclectic series.  And given how much I love MST3K As A Whole, that’s an especially strong factor in its favor.

8.) 

Looky looky, @bunnikkila, we (unsurprisingly) have a pick in common!  I’m sure this is the one and only time THAT’S going to happen on this list. 8D

Y’know, nearly thirty years (and one fairly useless remake >_>) later, I think the thing that impresses me about “The Lion King” is just how much it is still able to grab me emotionally.  Some of that is unquestionably tied up with how strongly I associate this movie with my family, all of whom it became very special to as a Shared Experience.  But I also don’t know of a lot of people who haven’t had that same emotional experience with it, and that to me suggests there’s more going on here than just Nostalgia.  The mixture of Shakesperean plotting with Disney’s signature strength of Character, for one thing, granting the movie’s story an Epic Scope that never forgets the emotional inner lives of its cast.  The music for another, not only its instantly-iconic song-book but also its memorable score, armed with both Big Bombast and Gentle Sentiment.  And the unforgettably gorgeous animation, rendering every last element of its world with believable naturalism and strongly-defined personality.  All of it, together, makes for what I still personally consider the Crowning Achievement of the Disney Renaissance.

7.)

I think, if I had to name the thing I find most lacking in far too many modern Action Movies, it’s Clarity.  They all tend to lard their plots up with a bunch of unnecessary contrivances and complications in hopes of making themselves appear more clever than they actually are, and all it usually does is just dilute the impact of the whole thing.  “Mad Max: Fury Road”, by contrast, is all about Clarity.  I could sum up literally its entire plot in a paragraph if I wanted, because it is basically One Big Chase Scene from start to finish, never really deviating from that structure for more than a few minutes at a time.  And that, combined with its exceptionally well-crafted Action Sequences, means that the full weight of its visceral power hits you full force every time.  But don’t be fooled; that simplicity is not to be mistaken for shallowness.  Indeed, precisely by getting out of its own way, knowing exactly what it wants to do and why, “Fury Road” also delivers a story that is, in spite of what you might guess, genuinely subtle and smart.  Every character is immediately unforgettable and compelling because their role in the story is so well-considered and their personalities all so stark.  The world it crafts feels at once fascinatingly surreal and yet All Too Real at the same time because even its most Fantastic elements are ultimately just grotesque reflections of things the audience knows only too well.  And most of all, it tells a story with real, meaningful Themes that are deeply woven into each of its individual elements, such that the whole thing is deeply satisfying emotionally, but also piercingly Relevant in all the best, most affecting ways.

6.) 

Oh look, another pick I have in common with @bunnikkila!  This must be the last one, right?

But yeah, this is just a legitimately great movie, at every level, in every way.  Stylistically, it is one of the most radically inventive things to have ever been made in the world of Western Animated Movies, gleefully mixing together a vast array of Aesthetics and Techniques that are at once viscerally distinct and yet coherently connected, all rendered with a fantastic eye toward the world of Comic Book Visual Language that keeps finding new and extremely fun ways to play with that instantly-recognizable iconography.  For that alone, I would call it one of the greatest triumphs of 21st century animation.  But then, on top of that, the story it tells is one that is simultaneously Arch and self-aware, delivering some of the most fantastically hilarious punch-lines imaginable more than a few of which are at the expense of the very franchise it is working within...but also entirely earnest, sincere, and emotionally affecting.  It is, at once, a movie that manages to be about The Idea Of Spider-Man in its totality while also being about just one kid coming to grips with who he is, what he can do, and what his life can be.  I don’t know that I can remember the last time a movie so immediately and unmistakably marked itself as an Enduring Masterpiece, but “Into the Spider-Verse” absolutely pulled it off.

5.)

Ordinarily, I would cheat and give this slot to the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy in its totality.  But somehow, the fact that this is about “FAVORITE” movies instead of just what we think the BEST one is compels me to narrow it down to just one.  And if I had to pick just one, it would be the first of the three, “Fellowship of the Ring”.  It’s not necessarily anything that the other two movies get wrong, either.  All three of the LotR movies possess many of its keenest strengths, after all.  For a starter, there’s the keen understanding of how best to adapt the source material without being enslaved to it; capturing many of its most iconic moments while cleverly tweaking elements to make them more cinematic, knowing what scenes to focus on for the sake of more clearly focusing the emotional through-lines of the story, and knowing what scenes, no matter how good on the page, ultimately don’t fit to the shape the adaptation has taken.  There’s also its pitch-perfect casting, each and every actor doing a fantastic job of embodying the characters so well that even as your personal vision of them from the books may differ radically from what is on-screen, they nonetheless end up feeling Right for the part and a strong, compelling presence.  And there’s the deft visual hand of director Peter Jackson, who knows exactly how to craft a Middle Earth that feels at once lived-in and real but also Fantastic and magical.  “Fellowship”, for me at least, thus wins out mostly because it has the good luck of being adapted from the strongest of the three books, the point at which the narrative is at its most unified and thus has the strongest overall momentum.  But also because so few movies have so swept me away with the sense of stepping into a world I have always dreamed of in my mind’s eye, and that’s the sort of thing that can only happen at the beginning of a journey.

4.) 

Now here’s a movie that is literally sown in to my very being.  It’s the last movie my mother saw in theaters before becoming a Mom.  I grew up watching the “Real Ghostbusters” cartoon all the time and playing with the attendant toys; I had a “Ghostbusters” Birthday Party when I was, like, four years old.  It has been my annual Halloween Tradition to get myself a big Cheese Pizza and watch this movie for about as long as I’ve had disposable income to myself.  There is, quite literally, no point in my life where I don’t remember “Ghostbusters” being a fixture in it.  And as a nice bonus?  It is, legitimately, a Genuinely Great Movie.  I realize that isn’t quite as universally agreed upon these days as it was even a few years ago (thanks, Literally The Worst Kind Of Virulently Misogynist Assholes lD; ), but I still feel pretty confident in saying this one really is That Good.  I still find basically every one of its jokes hilarious; even now I could quote just about any one of them and get a laugh.  I still find its central premise, What If Exorcism Was A Blue-Collar Business, a brilliant, almost subversively clever one that takes The Supernatural out of the realm of The Unknowable and into a world where even you, an ordinary person off the street, can in fact fight back against it.  I still think it’s one of the all-time great examples of how to balance Tone in this sort of High Concept Genre Bender, by allowing The Story to be played relatively straight while allowing the comedy to flow naturally from the characters’ reactions to that story, allowing its Ghostly aspects to land as Genuinely Scary (or at least Worth Taking Seriously) without getting too Stern and Serious about it.  And I still listen to that unforgettable Title Song all the time!  So yeah, even if I could be more objective about it, “Ghostbusters” would almost certainly make this cut.      

3.) 

And so we come to the third and last pick I have in common with @bunnikkila, not coincidentally a movie that played a key role in solidifying our friendship, as bonding over our shared love of it was a big part of how we got to know each other on deviantART waaaay back in the day <3

By 2008, I really didn’t think it was possible for a movie or comic or TV show to really become “part” of me anymore, the way things like Sonic the Hedgehog or Marvel Super Heroes or Some Other Movie Character Who Might Be At The Top Of This List had.  And then “WALL-E” came along and proved that to be completely, utterly wrong.  I didn’t just love this movie, I was inspired by it, to a degree of strength and consistency that I’m still not entirely sure has yet been matched.  And to be sure, some of that is undoubtedly because the movie had already basically won the war before I’d even bought my ticket; Adorable Robots In Love is something like My Platonic Storytelling Ideal, after all.  But even setting that aside, “WALL-E” is a movie where even now I can’t help but be keenly aware, and gently awed, at the beauty of its craft; indeed, watching this movie in a theater did a lot to make me better understand why movies work on us the way they do, because I left that theater chewing so much on every last one of its elements.  Its gorgeous animation, the way it conveys Character through Actions more so than language, the dream-like quality of its musical score (even as i type this i get teary thinking about certain motifs), the clear and meaningful way it builds its theme and story together so harmoniously, and the particular perspective it takes on our relationships with each other, with our environments, and with our own technology...all of it speaks to me deeply and profoundly, and it’s no coincidence that I have seen this movie more times in theaters than any other on this list (twelve times, for the record, and I still remember each and every time XD).

2.) 

This one needs no personal qualifications, to my mind.  Yes, I have some degree of nostalgic attachment to it for having seen it relatively young with my brothers and being deeply moved by it then, but it’s not at all like the kind of Nostalgia I have for “The Lion King”.  “Princess Mononoke” is just flat-out, full-stop a complete Masterpiece, not just my personal pick for one of the single-best animated films ever made, but one of the best films period.  It’s almost difficult for me to put into words how great this movie is, certainly in a way that hasn’t been repeated to death by thousands of other smarter people, because no one of its elements quite answers the question of why it is so great, to my mind.  Yes, the animation is absolutely gorgeous with a design sensibility that brings Ancient Mythology to life so vividly that its influence can still be felt today (The Forest Spirit alone has been homaged all over the place).  And yes, the music is hauntingly beautiful, at once capturing the gentle rhythm of nature but also the elegiac tone of Life Moving On.  And yes, the story is an incredible mixture of the Broad Mythic Strokes of an Ancient Legend grounded in all too human Emotions and Ideas about the balance of nature, the full meaning and cost of Warfare, and perhaps most important of all, about how we determine Right and Wrong when everyone involved in a conflict is fighting simply for the right to survive.  But all of those things add up together to something even greater than a simple sum, because each one isn’t just good in its own right but because each element so perfectly reinforces the other.  And even having said all that?  I really could just carry on singing this movie’s praises.  Just...an absolute masterpiece, top to bottom.

1.) 

I don’t imagine any of you are terribly surprised at this, right?  I almost feel like it’d be redundant to explain my love for this movie, given how self-obvious I imagine it is to basically everyone who knows me Literally At All.  But heck, I’ve rambled on this long, why not go all the way?  Because the thing of it is, “Gojira” (to be clear, the original Japanese movie from 1954 rather than its American edit, “Godzilla: King of the Monsters” from 1956) doesn’t just top the list by being a Great Movie.  Though to be clear, it really is.  Flawless?  No; there’s a reliance on puppetry that even for the time can be a bit chintzier than the movie can really afford, in particular.  But brilliant, even so, a heart-wrenching example of Science Fiction Storytelling As Allegory, one that, in a rarity not just for its own genre but indeed for many movies in general, very meaningfully lingers on its deepest, darkest implications.  Many a film critic has pointed it out, and it remains true: the stark black-and-white photography heightens the sense of Implacable Horror at the core of the story, and the way the central Melodrama, a tragic love triangle that carries with it many aspects of Class Conflict and Personal Desire VS. The Collective Good, ties back into the main story is truly beautiful in its elegance and emotional impact.  Still, for me personally, it tops the list, now and always, because it is a movie that affirmed something for me, that the character I had fallen in love with as a child convincing his family to watch a monster movie with him on television to prove his seven-year-old bravery, really was as genuinely as powerful and meaningful a figure as I had always imagined him to be. 

[apveng]

Team Danvers! Forever!

Here is the seventh and final part of my story. The first part, Khao-Shuh, is here. Second part, Why Do You Need Supergirl, Anyways?, is here. The third, She Is Not Kara, Damn It, is here. Fourth, Kara oh Kara is here. The fifth part of my story, The World’s Worst Pretender, is here. The sixth part, Partners in Crime, is here.

Hope everyone is doing okay.

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

“How on Earth did you find a half Kryptonian, half human child?” Kara was gazing at the said child, fast asleep, as she asked the question. She had had a midnight hankering for watching Hope sleep, so here they were, in the kid’s room, watching her sleep.

Kara’s expression, a mix of reverence and affection, was a treat to watch.

“You should ask your mother that question.” At Kara’s questioning look, she explained. “Some exile decided to come here and have a fling. Hope is the result, abandoned to her fate after her human father died.”

At Kara’s guilty look, she reached over and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Hey! I didn’t mean it is your fault. But, Argo should be paying attention to what their people are doing now that they have re-established connections with the rest of the universe. Not every Kryptonian is like you and your cousin, and blue and yellow sun planets are at risk.”

“You are right. I will talk to mom when I see her. It is also probably something rest of the planets should think about.” Kara looked determined, as only Kara could. Alex smiled at the set of the chin.

Sensing an opening, she changed the subject. “Okay. But, don’t you want to know why I named her Hope?”

Blue eyes lit up at the question. “Of course, I do.” Kara gently tucked a few curls off to Hope’s side and then looked back at Alex. “Why did you name her hope?”

“As I told Kelly at the time, because I hoped that you would come back some day. And, it’d be very silly for both of you to be named Kara. Especially since, as I blurted out then, I didn’t like the convention of naming mother and daughter the same name.”

“Alex!” Kara exclaimed and then, as Hope shifted in her sleep, murmuring, dropped her voice. “I am sorry. I had no idea.”

Alex smiled at the guilty look directed her way. “Don’t be sorry. It was never your fault. I just didn’t realise until then what you meant for me. Turns out, Kelly had her suspicions. Needless to say, that was pretty much the end of our relationship.” She paused and smirked. “And the start of years-long therapy for me.”

Kara still looked guilty. As if she could have done anything about how Alex felt.

Shaking her head, Alex grabbed Kara’s arm and tugged her towards herself. “You know what I am saying, Kar? Kelly has known about my feelings for you for some time now. She may not have been okay with it when we were together, but it is now, to use Kelly’s own phrase, water under the bridge. There is nothing for you to worry about on her account.”

Kara stayed where she was, reminding Alex, rather forcefully, that she was a Kryptonian. “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent.” This time when she pulled, Kara came to her arms, though she was still chewing her lips.

Adorably so, might she add.

Why though?

“Alex, I don’t think we should tell Kelly before tomorrow’s league meeting.”

Ah!

“Of course, we can’t. Though, I’d be really glad when Kelly and Jaya would stop looking at me as if I have lost my mind.” Hope was shifting again. Taking it as cue that the gaze-adorably-at-daughter session should be brought to a close, Alex nodded at the door.

Back in their bedroom, Alex pulled Kara to herself. “What I mean is, you don’t have to fear Kelly’s reaction whenever we tell her. Okay?”

Kara smiled. “Okay. As long everything goes okay tomorrow, she will know anyways.”

Alex grimaced. She didn’t want that. But, that was applicable for all of their friends, and J’onn and M’gann’s reasoning was sound, so she couldn’t protest either.

Kara touched Alex’s cheek. “I am sorry, I am causing you so much trouble, Alex.”

Alex shook her head and smiled up at Kara. “You need to stop blaming yourself. This is our decision, and it is for everybody’s good. Whatever flak we get, we face together. Alright?”

Kara smiled her brilliant smile. “Alright.”

And, the discussion ended there. They had to, after all, prepare for tomorrow.

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

“Nonsense. I know her. There is no way she has been replaced by a double.” That was Kelly’s voice raised in protest.

“I know this is difficult to take in, Kelly.” J’onn said, his voice sympathetic. “But, what Lena says is also right. We can’t be sure about the tests when we can’t be sure about the person who developed the test. And, remember, I have known her since she was a teenager. Think back. Have you noticed no change in her behaviour the past couple of weeks?”

That was cue for her entrance. Alex tapped on the door before letting herself in.

At her entry, the people around the room fell silent. At least, this time she knew what it was about.

There were far more people in the room than there were at the past League meetings, strangers making up most of the new. A good thing J’onn’s gift was never far from her.

“Oh! Look at that. You people actually care whether I am in the room or not.” Alex noted sarcastically, as she took her seat beside Kelly.

Kelly avoided her eyes. As did Barry, Sara, and Nia.

Ouch!

Clark and Lois gave her a grave nod, which could mean anything. Either that they believed Lena or that they didn’t. Brainy eyed her steadily as if he could get into her head and discern whether she was a Martian or not. Andrea and William smiled while Kate nodded.

Not too bad. At least, some people still believed in her. It didn’t matter that a couple of those believed because they were warned in advance.

“Wait a minute.” Kara, her Kara, raised her voice so that everyone was looking at her.

“Just because Lena says it is so, doesn’t mean we have to believe her.” She turned to Ja’all. “How do we know you aren’t the infiltrator? For all we know, you may be just trying to get Dr. Danvers out of the way. We would need to test you too.”

Ja’all smirked.

Oh! He was good. Alex would give him that.

“You can use both Dr. Danvers’ tests and the tests Luthor Corp developed. Let us see if any additional White Martians are here. Then, we can take all our DNAs and get the matter resolved.” He nodded at the strangers. “That is why I brought my entire team. We can get the tests done in a matter of hours.”

Alex stood up, causing everyone on the table—except Ja’all and his people—to straighten and be on their guard.

“So, let me get this straight. You folks now believe that, me,” She pointed at herself, “I am the infiltrator? Really? Based on this woman’s say so?” She stepped back from the table and turned towards Kelly. “You too Kelly? You have known me for how many years now?” Before Kelly could answer, she turned to J’onn. “J’onn. You can’t believe this too?”

J’onn met her eyes steadily. “You have blocked your mind to us, Alex. We have to factor every possibility into account.”

“Lena is agreeing to the tests, Alex. If you are Alex, you should have no problem taking them as well, right?” Lois raised an eyebrow at her.

For a minute, Alex believed her herself. Damn! She should have been the undercover agent.

“There is one problem though. What is the guarantee that the Luthor tests even work?” Alex argued. The more time they wasted the better.

“You can test them here, and it will show you the exact number of White Martians in this building. Two. If there is more than two, that means we have an infiltrator here, yes?” He turned to M’gann. “It is a good thing you didn’t bring your force here, or we would have had a delay.”

“While we are arguing, they do need to show the invaders that the planet is protected.” M’gann returned.

“Bullshit!” Alex turned to Ja’all. “The tests could be made to show an additional Martian, just to cast suspicion on everyone.”

And, so they argued, round and round and round, some taking Alex’s side, some taking Ja’all-Lena’s, Kara switching back and forth as if she couldn’t decide.

An hour into the interminable arguments, Alex’s mobile buzzed. After surreptitiously taking a look at it, she threw up her hands. “Al right! I am tired of the debate. Let us do both the tests. Let me see what L-corp has got.” She paused and then looked at everyone. “I didn’t bring my test though, so I will have to go and fetch it. You guys can do your test while I am gone.”

“Oh no! You are not going anywhere.” Lois retorted instantly.

“You have to agree Alex, it looks a tad suspicious for you to ask this.” Clark added. “How about I go and get your test? I can prove easily that I am a Kryptonian, so no tests needed.” He turned and directed a heat vision at the wall, setting off all sorts of alarms. When he was done, the alarms were still ringing, footsteps could be heard running outside, and there was an ‘I love Lois’ on the wall.

It took Barry and Sara a while to get the alarms deactivated and the security calmed. Clark looked suitably chagrined. “Sorry. I didn’t know they were going to do that.”

“Dad! You would know if you had paid attention to the building’s security like Uncle Barry always does.” That was Jon of course.

“And, did you have to write that message?” Jordan mumbled.

The boys were there as part of their training. At least, that is what Clark must have said when he brought them in. At 19, they could serve as defence for the humans and backups. Though hopefully, they wouldn’t be needed. Right now, they looked less superheroes, more embarrassed teens.

Alex hoped that girls weren’t as given to challenging their parents as boys were. Or, she was looking at a world of pain, ten years from now.

Oh! Who was she kidding? Of course, Hope will challenge every last one of them until they would all be begging for mercy. Probably even the boys.

Clark laughed. “Hey, it was our anniversary yesterday. I had to give your mother a gift.” Lois grinned and blew him a kiss.

Ja’all raised her hand, well his hand, to draw everybody’s attention. “Now, that we know Clark Kent is indeed Superman, can we have him go and get Dr. Danvers’ tests? Then, we can finally put all this behind us.”

Clark nodded at her and left, while Ja’all directed his team to set up his tests. It didn’t take long for the test to scan the area and flash the number. 03. One for M’gann, one for Kara who was supposed to be S’lynn, and one for whoever was the infiltrator.

How convenient.

“Just so you don’t keep doubting me, I can go first with the personal test.” Ja’all said as he looked around the room.

“What is the point?” Alex retorted. “Everyone here knows that your test will be calibrated to show you as human. How about we wait for Clark to come back?” She looked towards the window, assuming an anxious expression. “Where is he?”

“How about we start with the rest of the people?” J’onn asked his tone, mollifying. “All of us have to be tested. It is not as if humans have any other way to show they aren’t humans. And, how will I show that I am a Green Martian?”

Kelly looked up. “Wait? Can’t you just join with Alex and do that thing you do? Alex told me that she has a device that allows you to join minds. That way you can test both her and you. Then, you can test Lena as well.”

Damn! They had nearly gotten away with it.

She had forgotten Kelly knew about her artefact.

There was a brief moment of silence as everyone stood frozen. And then, there was mayhem as Kara and J’onn quickly gathered everyone vulnerable and got them to safety, while M’gann activated the security systems again to ensure Ja’all and team didn’t run.

Alex stepped back, so that, for the moment, she wasn’t in the way.

William and Kelly were too confused to put up much of a fight. Barry was by Iris side and took her to safety without anyone interfering.

By the time the blurs settled, the humans—all except Alex and Lois—were out of the way. Credit to Ja’all’s training that instead of immediately turning into their true forms and fighting, the White Martian infiltrators just decided to form up. Or, may be, it showed his desperation. If they failed here, the mission was done.

The Heroes remaining—Arcata, Nia, Sara, Kate, Jon and Jordan—formed up and stood back to back in the centre of the room.

“What is going on here?” Ja’all asked. “Surely, we shouldn’t decide anything before the tests are done? For all we know, J’onn, M’gann and the others may all be imposters who teamed up to infiltrate our planet.”

Desperation then.

“If that is the case then your tests are not working. They showed only three White Martians.” Alex pointed out.

That was it. It became clear even to the White Martians that the hiding was over. As Alex watched, they changed and grew in size making the heroes step back.

She hoped Lois had pressed her watch to call Clark. The wait was over.

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

“I hate alien attacks. Especially flying alien attacks.” Sara said as they watched the flyers duke it out on the skies. Kara, Clark, J’onn and M’gann had returned as had some of the rebels including S’lynn, with more and more turning up as the time passed. They were fighting the invaders in the skies.

Alex smiled at her. “I feel your pain.” She nodded towards the ceiling. “But, there is something we can do.”

At Sara’s questioning look, Alex directed her to a few harpoon throwers that the DEO had developed in the past few years. They allowed you to target flying targets. The advantage was that they just decapitated the target, provided they were alien and not human. Before their morning adventures, Alex and Kara, with J’onn and M’gann’s help, had set them up. They hadn’t wanted to leave anything to chance.

Given the numbers and the scarcity of resources needed, the machines wouldn’t have worked against 1000 or 10000 White Martians, but a few dozen or so was not difficult. With, Barry, Kate, Nia and Andrea joining in, they made quick work of any White Martian that dared to stray away from the main fight.

It didn’t have the exhilaration of putting on a suit and going up there, but as far as Alex was concerned, it was necessary work.

Kara was up there fighting. She was watching Kara’s back.

They just complemented each other, Kara and her. And, that for her, was the most important thing.

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

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Kara was, well, Kara.” Kelly exclaimed.

The fight was over, the hostile White Martians were all safely constrained at the DEO and the League members had left after welcoming Kara and promising to catch up.

The National City folks—Alex, Kara, and the rest of the gang including Andrea and William and of course Jaya—had gathered at their place to recap the evening. And, officially welcome Kara.

It was late and after much haggling, they had managed to put Hope to bed, so Alex had to contend with just adults. And, thank God for that. She didn’t know how she would have explained the whole story to their five-year-old.

Alex raised her arm in response to Kelly’s question. “I told you. J’onn and M’gann asked me to keep quiet.” She pointed at them. “Ask them.”

J’onn smiled. “We thought it best if nobody had to worry about their friends until the last moment.”

“We did worry quite a lot about Hope though. And, Alex.” Jaya pointed out with a frown.

“I am so sorry about that.” Kara replied immediately, looking contrite. She went over to Jaya, took her hands in her own, and squeezed them. “But, Hope herself at least doesn’t know there was anyone else in the mix. She is okay.”

Very few people could remain irritated at Kara Danvers for any length of time. As Kara turned on her charm, it didn’t take long for Jaya and even Kelly to give in and smile.

“So, Lena was the infiltrator the whole time?” Nia called from her corner, where she was cuddling with Brainy.

“Ja’all was. He captured Lena a few months back so that he could use the incredible resources that L Corp had.” Kara looked at Alex. “We got her out by the way. All of them. S’lynn and our squads were incredible.”

S’lynn dipped her head at the complement. “It was not difficult. The planning and keeping Ja’all and his people away had been the difficult part. And, you guys did everything there. Especially you both, Kara, Dr. Danvers.”

Kara, by dropping hints, had convinced Ja’all that he could get Alex out of the way and stop the tests by directing suspicion at her. Since she hadn’t directly been responsible for his plan, she was also free to do just the opposite at the meeting, creating more confusion and chaos.

That allowed Alex, ably assisted by Clark and Lois, to keep them on the backfoot almost until the rescue effort was complete. Though only Clark Kent would have thought of using “I love Lois” as a distraction. She hoped Kara wouldn’t take the wrong lessons from him.

Or, may be she did. But, not right now.

“And, there it is.” Nia waved her hand, a beam on her face. “Team Danvers. Always working to perfection.”

“And, saving our planet.” J’onn added with a smile.

Nia raised her glass. “To Team Danvers. They should come with a warning.” She paused and grinned widely. “For anyone who dare threaten our planet.”

All of their friends joined in. “To Team Danvers.”

“We have missed you Kara.” Andrea said as the cheers died down. “Yes, even I. Despite stealing your boyfriend since you left.” William, sitting on her chair’s arm, grinned. “I am no longer her boyfriend but your husband, Andrea. Don’t be so quick to fob me off on her.”

“Oh, I am not. I was just describing the lay of the land to Kara.” Andrea retorted, with a smile at Kara.

“Noted.” Kara returned the smile.

“As have I.” Kelly said quietly from beside Jaya. “I know you have your doubts.” She raised her hand as Kara tried to protest. “I know you, Kara. May be not as well as Alex, but well enough. But, I have missed you. You were my friend before I ever met Alex, remember.”

“I remember.” Kara said softly. “And, thank you.” She looked around. “I have missed all of you too. You have no idea, how much.”

“Are you going back?” Brainy asked after a brief silence. “Because if not, I have to make changes at the DEO for you and” he looked at Alex. “I assume Director Danvers.”

Kara looked at Alex first and then at M’gann and S’lynn.

For a minute, Alex’s heart trembled as she wondered at the hesitation in Kara’s eyes. Kara wouldn’t want to go back, would she? What if she felt obliged to return? To help the rebels?

Something of her fear must have shown in Alex’s eyes because Kara took Alex’s hand in hers, squeezed it, and held it close, before turning back to Brainy. “I am staying. I am not sure I’d be joining the DEO. There is time to make plans. And…” she waited for cheers from the humans to die down before turning to M’gann and S’lynn. “I will always come if you ever need anything. And, even if you won’t, I will keep visiting. And, bring J’onn along.”

“We would expect nothing less from you.” M’gann assured her.

“And, if you don’t come, we will come and drag you to Mars for a visit.” S’lynn added with a rare display of non-soldierly conduct and affection.

Alex’s heart returned to normal speed. She smiled at Kara and got a brilliant smile in return.

Looked like she had Kara back. Forever.

And as far as Alex was concerned, that was all that mattered.

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

There you are. And they lived happily ever after. The End. Thank you for reading. 😊

Also, I know that certain details in the past couple of episodes changes some things. However, no reason they wouldn’t have changed back since then. 5 years is a long time.

Oh, and apologies to fans of Sara Lance and others. Even Clark and Lois. I don’t watch any of the other shows, so I may have got their characterisation (any little I showed) wrong.

Be well folks. And get through safely to the madness—both of conservatism and covid—that has gripped over world to the other end.

PS: I wouldn’t be me, if I didn’t add a note for open borders, given all the talk about infiltrators. ^|^

Presence of threatening elements is not an argument for tightening our borders (just like presence of rapists and gropers is not an argument for keeping women confined to homes) and being horrible to immigrants. It is an argument for better social structures, community action for education and acceptance and preparation to manage security in a humane way.

Oh and I should also say that, I am against incarceration, but I have no idea how to manage that. I am sure many someones far wiser than me, with more experience, are already thinking about that. Both Immigration restriction and incarceration are things that should be thought about and in a staggered manner phased out. May be in a few decades, but that should be the plan.

Sorry again, middle of the road friends who disagree with me.

Let us say, that the White Martians got therapy, and were sent safely back to Mars. Some time in future, when the idea (not the people) of supremacy was eradicated, let us imagine Earth goes on to establish friendly relations and movements with Mars as well.

[rureikia]

Chapter 1

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"Why me?"

"Because you're single and you're my life long best friend! Friends have each other's back, no?"

I stared at Sumiko and instantly shook my head to reject the idea, "Then I don't want my back anymore. I don't want to go."

"Ah (Y/N) please." She clasps her hands in a prayer pose.

A long, tired sigh escapes from my mouth, but she stays stubborn and chooses not to listen to my aspect of the situation, "Uwaaaah, Sumiko what do you not get? I do not go to those sort of events. Who do you think I am?" 

Even after I had given her the belated answer she didn't like, Sumiko decided to lean on my work desk further and pulled a rare puppy-dog expression.

She's not actually like this, trust me. Sumiko is much more mature than me, but today she's extremely persistent in acting like a crazy aunt because of this silly little blind date thing. 

"You're a bland person (Y/N), that's what I think. And you're literally only going as a substitute so you don't have to uh - date anyone," she explains, "Tag along, you might even enjoy yourself for once. You never have fun anymore, and it'll be like the old times!"

Her hopeful smile doesn't affect me, rather made my eyebrow twitch. Thus, I returned back to my computer screen and continued typing up work as a way to defocus my mind off her, "I don't know what you mean. Of course I have fun, I just don't really like blind dates."

"Goukon is fun though! And you're single."

Right, she doesn't need to mention that I'm single over and over again like that...

"Aha, but you said that I don't need to date anyone." I contemptuously reminded her.

Her expression changes from my words, "Oh, whoops... Yeah whatever! Well, the point is that our other girl can't make it, and we can't have one guy hanging 'cuz it'll be really awkward being the only partner-less one."

"Mm, I see."

"You know what? If you join, I'll even pay for all the stuff you order in the restaurant we're meeting at."

Oh actually, that's something I love to hear on an overworked Friday... Especially since I'm a person that will never be made out of money and buy luxuries.

This statement was the only part that caught my attention fully. Because it's free stuff. That particular free stuff being my hearty dinner for tonight.

I raised a brow as a sign of piqued interest, "Everything...? Are you sure? Really?"

"That includes drinks, yes..." Sumiko looks at me with a proud face, "Absolutely everything."

Smiling curiously I was beginning to consider accepting the offer, "Is there anything else?"

"What do you want?" She says.

For a second, I put a finger to my chin and looked up at the ceiling to hum a heavy brainstorm teasingly.

There was this one idea I had which was going to turn this into a sort of win-win situation for my remaining hours left here. And so I chuckled at Sumiko in this suspicious style whilst her smile instantly wiped off her face - a pensive expression replaced that smile.

Even when watching her quick shift of emotions, I kept beaming as my mind made the decision. 

"Here." I said. 

I had grabbed the four large piles of documents that were all 5cm thick.

Earlier, it was idly lying next to my computer, waiting for me to start on it. And now, I placed it in front of Sumiko, where she then gawked at me.

You know what made it better? That loud flop sound it made after being dropped. 

"W-What?" She gasped.

"Haha, you can do my work."

With my clenched fist raised in front of my face, I furrow my brows in determination. She on the other hand glared at me with threatening intent.

"Thank you very much!" I said, "I'm very excited for this event now Amaya Sumiko! But take your time, do your best!"

"Why (Y/N) -!! You little rascal, you're taking advantage of this aren't you?!" She exhales heavily in disbelief through her mouth.

My chin moves to rest elegantly over on my two intertwined hands that were put up on the desk, "So, when is it? Tell me more, I'm so very excited for this. Is it after work? Seven? Eight? Or are we going wild and starting at nine? Which restaurant is it? "

"God. You're never funny when you do this." She pretends to throw the documents in my face, I however pretended to act scared by shielding myself with my arms. Afterwards, Sumiko continues, "I won't be the one picking the restaurant, but this other guy is gonna do it and he'll text us the location probably an hour before it starts at eight."

"Oh so in three hours to get work done?" I ask.

"...Yeah. I guess."

"Then you better get all that work done or else you'll be working overtime instead of going on dates haha."

She scowls at me and I grin with my teeth showing.

I soon observed her storm off to the opposite side of the office where her own work station was whilst I was still jokingly beaming behind her.

...

I went back to thinking of what could happen with me and the others over in that meetup. I think it won't go awfully too perfect for me, not that meaning I will be pessimistic about it. Ah I'll say it a bit clearer - what I mean is that I won't really be interested in finding someone there since I prefer to meet someone by chance and not choice.

Haha, to be honest... I haven't dated for a while or done anything like this. Well I haven't been in a stable relationship in general for a while. So I'm now kind of nervous...

I've been on a couple dates here and there but never actually got myself a significant other ever since my first real relationship. And it made me a little teary-eyed as I thought my first real boyfriend was probably also my... (sniffs)... Final...

I'd grow into an elderly person and not understand the concept of romantic love anymore as I haven't experienced it in absolute decades by then. Ultimately, I will live life as a lonely senior with dozens of pets to keep me company instead.

If you put yourself in a positive mindset, it sounded quite nice, living with animals until death. But I do not carry that positive mindset so it ended up not sounding very nice.

I did want to find someone before my parents send pictures of potential partners for me to meet and greet... In fact, they've already started - and no matter how many times I tell mom that I'm not interested at the moment, she persists.

Mom wants me to find someone, get married, live in a better house, be financially stable and add new children to the family tree one day, all that whatnot!

Of course, I know she's just worried about my future, but how am I supposed to find love if I basically forgot how it feels? 

In addition, there was also this. My lack of feeling for romance is often what makes all the dates I've been on every blue moon, only be a date. Only one date, never another one again. I just can't seem to identify a sort of love with other people, and it makes me afraid about my future.

I guess another factor for my lack of dating experience may be due to my specifically high-level standards I have raised. Because ever since three years ago, I now tend to struggle to find a suitable partner that would make me feel as much emotions as my last one did.

After all, I can't lie to myself that me dating my ex-boyfriend was something I think during some of my nights, not that I wish to reunite of course. But I think about how it's a little strange that he's the one of the only people I'm not related to I've known for a large portion of my life and also the one I strived for more than my current career. 

The most important thing to me is my job. But back then, the most important thing to me was him. 

From the beginning of middle school, I've known him and I proceeded to get to know him at high school too. So in a way, we were childhood friends, right?

We lived in the same neighbourhood , him actually living right opposite me - we went to the exact same schools too, middle, high school and college. It was like we were meant to be or something haha!

Well... His name was Kita Shinsuke.

He's definitely the I'm-so-perfect-and-good-looking-but-don't-know-it kind of guy, if you get what I mean.

Kita was respected by so many people. He's responsible, always got excellent top tier grades, talks very polite Japanese, always was the teacher's favorite, was even captain of our high school's volleyball team and mentioning it once more, he was quite good looking too. For a bit, I kept having this stigma that his existence was simply unfair and unbelievable... He can do practically anything and wouldn't react that much as if he's some kind of snobby prince. But soon, when I observed him more, everything was done unintentionally and he was simply like that.

...

Often in stories, dramas or anything similar, two kids that live closeby, or have known each other since young are portrayed as something incredibly sweet. Most commonly called this concept of childhood sweethearts.

Two kids would routinely go to and from school together, possibly holding hands, picking sticks that look like magical wands from the ground, buying ice pops in the summer, blowing bubbles, they'd get told off by the elders, constantly spark up trouble together and they'd pet the stray cats etcetera, etcetera. These two would enjoy each other's presence obliviously not knowing what would develop in the future. Because once those kids grow up, only then would they realize what they share is a friendship that has actually been blooming into love. 

I guess that's my summary of one of the examples of childhood sweethearts, but I have yet another one to mention!

Two kids in a love-hate scenario this time, to which I think is a little more complicated.

In this case, one party doesn't like the other at first. However, the other party would take somewhat interest whilst still not liking them too. So throughout time, these two will glare and click their tongues in irritation, not even batting an eye of respect at one another. And so their initial relationship therefore being rigid and competitive - but likewise, once they grow up and become more mature, they come to realize they're used to each other's presence so much that it's odd to not live without it! Suddenly they're like, (gasp) Oh!! It must be true love!!

Maybe if fate had given me a childhood sweetheart like that, I could walk around with hearts in my eyes like what you'd see in television shows.

But me and Kita weren't really like either of those.

We really and truly were just two separate lives that lived coincidentally close. 

At my younger age, I'd be at home reading manga, watching Doraemon and singing the opening song for Cutie Honey Flash, as Kita would be doing all his homework, playing sports and helping around his house.

It was definitely during middle school. That's when I started to notice Kita a bit more. I mean to be fair, he went to the same school as me, we left at the same time and we also lived in the same area, who on earth wouldn't notice? And at some point, we were put in the same classes miraculously too.

He was for sure a very good boy. Always completed work to his full potential with that annoying photographic memory of his, often did lunchtime duties and was consistently showered compliments by the teachers! Gah! Wasn't fair! 

He sat next to me in year 2 middle school which was probably the year I began liking him even more. Because I would turn my head and just see him and then my whole peripheral vision was also still just, him.

Kita and me never bickered at that time slot nor did we talk too much - come to think of it, I think it's either because I was too scared or because of his introvertedly noiseless attitude. Well, more or less I disliked arguing so I thought if I ever argued with a boy like Kita, it would end in the worst.

There was actually this one memorable time, still set in 2nd year middle school, where me and Kita were the ones chosen by the teacher to hand out the numbered vests for P.E. as everyone was going to join in for soccer. There were around 45 vests in total, Kita handed out a pathetic number of 6, then left to go play ball as the other boys asked him, subsequently leaving me behind to do the rest...

I was therefore running around angrily, trying to hand out all the remaining vests for everyone.

Funnily, the less vests I gradually had, the more I got angry since it reminded me how the one that handed the majority of these, were all me.

It was only when I finished handing them out and the teachers told us to find a partner to stretch with, I bumped into Kita again purely by accident.

Looking at him made me mad. At that second, I wish I had scolded or ranted to him or even thrown my numbered vest to his face to the very least, but we partnered up automatically and I had no time or build-up of confidence to do any of that. Instead, I just copied how he was stretching with a scornful face.

He was stretching with complete concentration adding onto this air of tranquility as if he forgot what he just did, and I was weakly doing the same whilst trying to keep my petty thoughts in check.

By the time I twisted my torso to do a different stretch, I glanced at Kita where he was doing a stretch with the opposite arm. And I stood there, watching him, with a slightly open-mouthed expression, similar to a fish.

I was baffled how he was wearing the same tattered and ugly green vest as everyone else in class and how he was wearing just our school's plain P.E clothes - yet somehow, the wind gently brushed his hair, the sunlight made his dark eyes brighter and I saw how he was noiselessly mouthing numbers to himself to count his seconds of stretching.

Similar to a movie, time stopped. Everything turned slo-mo and my heart had a strong twinge at the sight of him. 

It was right then, that was the promising moment I fell for Kita.

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[sandersstudies]

Quirky - Chapter 5

A High School Superhero AU - Sanders Sides

(Will add tag list in a reblog! If I miss you, please let me know ASAP - As always, asks, comments, messages, reblogs, and keysmashes are more than welcome.)

-> Chapter Six

<- Chapter Four

<<- Chapter One

You can now also find the fic with the same username and title on AO3 :)

Virgil kicked a stone in front of him as the class walked toward the bus. Next to him, Logan was going on about the history of U.S.J., their destination for Hero Studies class. Virgil wasn’t a fan of field trips. He almost envied Terrence, who had stayed home sick from school.

“Pick up the pace, gang,” Mr. Picani said. “Last I checked, none of you had lead feet as a quirk.” There had been no updates on Mr. Sanders, but Virgil and many of the other students had been watching the news religiously. All that had been released to the public was that Mr. Sanders had encountered an unnamed retired pro hero at the site of a recent vandalism, attacked him using his quirk, and fled the scene. Police officers had pursued, but initially lost the trail until Mr. Sanders was arrested in the early hours of the morning in his apartment. The date of his trial had not yet been announced.

“Am I boring you?” Logan asked, stopping mid-sentence.

“Oh, no, no,” Virgil said, spasmodically grabbing Logan’s wrist and then dropping it immediately. “Sorry, guess I’m a little caught up in my own head. What were you saying?”

“U.S.J. is a fascinating location, that is all,” Logan said. Mr. Picani checked their names off his list as they got on board the bus. “Think: a single building containing several ecosystems and terrains to prepare heroes for work in any field at all! Especially useful for disaster intervention, search-and-rescue...but I won’t go on.” He took one of the few remaining open seats, and Virgil sat beside him, on the aisle side. “What were you thinking about?”

“Mr. Sanders again,” Virgil said, lowering his voice and leaning toward Logan. He felt exposed sitting near the aisle. “Do you really think he attacked another hero?”

“Rumor has it the other hero was the Flying Falcon,” Logan said in an even lower voice. “But I don’t like spreading inconclusive evidence.”

“The Flying-” Logan shushed him. “The Flying Falcon?” Virgil whispered. “Roman’s dad?”

“Inconclusive evidence.”

Virgil craned over the back of his seat as the bus started. Roman was several seats back reading a comic book, the seat next to him empty.

His posse not hanging out with him anymore? Roman had seemed a little quieter than usual yesterday. Then again, everyone had. Roman was dwelling an awfully long time on his page. He’s no genius, Virgil thought, But I’m pretty sure he can read. Roman’s eyes did look a little glazed over, come to think of it—

Logan pulled gently on Virgil’s sleeve, and Virgil came back to himself as he slid back into the seat.

“It’s rude to stare,” Logan said. Virgil felt his neck flush hot as he bounced his leg. Logan must think he was a real ass. He stared down at his hands, and then toward the front window of the bus, watching for U.S.J. to appear on the horizon. Another disadvantage of sitting on the aisle side of the seat was limited window access.

“There it is,” Rafaela said a few minutes later, pointing. Students craned their necks to get a first glance at the dome.

“Please stay in your seats,” Mr. Picani said from the front of the bus. Students sulked back down.

U.S.J. didn’t look like much to Virgil. He’d gone on vacation once with his mom and visited the Omaha zoo, and the huge glass building reminded him of the desert dome that housed things like Fennec foxes and meerkats. He had a vague idea that once he entered U.S.J. he would be pounced on by a bobcat.

“The hero Glass runs the U.S.J.,” Kai whispered to Kenny from behind Virgil. “They’re so cool.”

Virgil vaguely recalled seeing Glass on television before. The hero could turn things they touched into glass, and also transform into a glass figure which, when damaged, could regenerate almost instantly. That cheesy action figure, Virgil remembered. The little clear plastic arm that shot off and could “regrow with the power of their Quirk!” (that is, be replaced and reused). How many millions did heroes make off of dumb things like that?

Kai was bouncing up and down, grasping the back of Virgil’s seat and shaking it back and forth as the bus pulled up to the building. Virgil winced. He’d noticed that when Kai was overexcited, his quirk goo could leak from his nose and ears.

“Let’s go!” Kai said.

“Just a minute,” Mr. Picani said. “Your names must be checked off the list as you get off the bus, so don’t rush, now.”

“You checked us on off when we got on!” Kai whined, draping himself over his seat. Roman was instructed to check off names so Mr. Picani could lead the students into the building, and the students started to file into the aisle. Virgil wondered for a moment if Roman would be petty enough to leave Virgil’s name unchecked, but the class president’s face was serious as the other students got off the bus.

“Are you thinking again?” Logan asked, alighting just behind Virgil.

“A little,” Virgil admitted. At least Logan wasn’t embarrassed by Virgil’s awkward staring anymore.

“I do find the construction of U.S.J. compelling,” Logan said again. “The ecosystems…” He was staring at the building with barely-contained delight. “I’ve read about their systems of environment regulation for the six main zones. It’s fascinating. Do let me know if I go on about them too long.”

Virgil felt his lips contort irresistibly into a smile. Logan sure was a nerd, but it was kind of funny how excited he got. “You’re fine.”

Logan continued, rejuvenated by Virgil’s consent. “The main zones are the Ruins, the Landslide, the Mountain, the Flood, the Downpour, and the Conflagration zones. As their names suggest, each is related to a different environmental factor.”

Logan sounded almost like he was reciting from a book. His quirk isn’t a photographic memory, Virgil thought. In fact, Logan was liable to forget things that didn’t interest him. But it might as well be when it comes to this stuff.

“The Conflagration Zone is perhaps most impressive,” Logan went on. “Designed to simulate a city on fire, a blaze is kept constant within the zone, maintained by the environmental factors which prevent it from spreading into the other zones. It’s actually a very delicate balance, the design took years to perfect.” He spoke as proudly as if he’d designed it himself. The class began to move toward the entrance of the building where there was a large sign with U.S.J. emblazoned above it in gold letters.

“Glass is the official caretaker and one of the head designers, along with Multi-Man himself.” Logan’s arms moved emphatically. “Glass’ quirk is quite astonishing. I would be very interested in seeing it in person. Of course, they are also a faculty member. Perhaps they would prefer to be referred to by their civilian name.”

Other students were also commenting on the structure and its caretaker, but none in such technical terms as Logan, who had paused to take a breath after a particularly long paragraph.

“We’re going to process into the front entrance,” Mr. Picani said. “We’ll stop there and you’ll be directed into the next location.”

The students jostled a bit, and Virgil shrunk into his oversized hoodie. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to have grown two inches taller since they’d left the main campus. He was scanning each part of the building as they went through the front double doors, and Virgil imagined once again that he could hear Logan’s synapses firing.

The class oohed and ahhed as they entered the building. The raised platform they entered onto let them see across the entire space, which was more massive than a stadium. From their height, it reminded Virgil of an arena. In front of them was a blue arch leading to the stairs that descended into the rest of the building, which had a dirt floor. Smaller domes encased two of the environmental zones, but a real miniature mountain rose to the ceiling on their right, with a landslide arching down to its base where rested a mock town, small but with everything to real scale. It was so realistic Virgil expected to see people peering out of the windows to watch their arrival. At the edge of the town was a series of collapsed buildings which came almost up to the edge of the raised platform, and across from those was a lake to the students’ right; Virgil had anticipated a pool, a simulated lake, but the body of water had grass and even small trees at the edge, growing happily inside the pavilion with a healthy diet of lake water and sunshine.

The building seemed all sunshine, in fact. Even the mountain was contained inside the massive glass ceiling, and on this sunny day no artificial lights were needed. A few metal beams around the edge were the only reminder that they were not really outside.

Forgetting Mr. Picani’s instructions in their excitement, a couple students began to rush for the stairs that led down into the zones, but stopped suddenly, as if prevented by an invisible barrier.

“Woah there,” said a new voice. In their astonishment at seeing the building, none of the students had noticed the figure standing before him. The person had outstretched their hands to stop Kai with one arm and Rafaela with the other. They were not invisible, but clear through their entire body, and it was only as they began to return to their ordinary form that Virgil could make them out.

They wore ordinary black clothing that looked casual and modern. In place of the mask that usually covered the whole round face was a smile under dark eyes and hair. Virgil realized that the action figure had exaggerated the hero’s age: Glass could not be much older than some of the UA upperclassmen. A few students muttered the name in awe and surprise.

“Here, I’d ask that you refer to me as Mx. Stokes,” Glass said. “Glass is for field work and going on Ellen and things like that.”

Kai was staring up at Mx. Stokes in astonishment, mouth slightly agape. Mr. Picani walked up to the other hero.

“Mx. Stokes is going to begin by giving you all a bit of a tour, and then you’ll be prepared when you start using this place for rescue training,” he said

“That’s right,” Mx. Stokes agreed. “Do any of you know how many zones are in U.S.J.?”

Logan’s hand shot up so fast he almost smacked Virgil in the face.

“Yes?” Mx. Stokes said. “And your name is?”

Logan had begun after the teacher’s first word, so the response went something like “U.S.J-contains-eight-zones-six-of-which—Logan—six-of-which-contain-specific-environmental-factors.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Mx. Stokes said. “That’s correct. All of you are actually standing in the first zone now. The entrance is itself one of the zones, and if you’ll look down those steps you can see into the central plaza, which connects the entrance to the six environmental zones.”

Virgil stared past the other students down the massive flights of steps, lined with guardrails and wide enough that the whole class could have walked down side-by-side. At the base of the steps was the plaza, in the center of which was a circular green space. Virgil hadn’t noticed it at first; it had been dwarfed in size by the other zones. It was little more than a fountain surrounded by plants, a typical park centerpiece. It looked out of place only because it was framed by fallen buildings, a mountain, and a lake.

“Let’s start walking toward the plaza,” Mx. Stokes said, turning for the stairs. The students began to follow, Kai leading the way. Virgil grumbled at the thought of having to go back up the stairs again before they left. He envied Patton, who Mr. Picani was directing to a small elevator — too small for the whole class, but Virgil could dream.

“Now, when lots of people think of hero work,” Mx. Stokes went on. “They think first of TV stuff like punching people and blowing stuff up, right?” A few students muttered agreement. “Right! But the most important part of being a hero isn’t that stuff. Even more important than knocking the shit out of villains—”

“Glass,” Mr. Picani warned from the top of the steps.

“Knocking the stuffing out of villains is caring for the people we serve, and that often means search-and-rescue operations. Plenty of heroes are known for this kind of work.”

There was a beat of glances among the students. Rescue was Multi-Man’s speciality.

If he wasn’t in jail, would he be giving us this speech? Virgil wondered.

“Now,” Mx. Stokes said, breaking the moment. “If the entrance is noon, we’re going to move around the zones clockwise. Does anybody know what the zone immediately to our left is called?” The students were halfway down the stairs, and the collapsed buildings began to loom to one side.

Logan’s hand shot up in the air again, but Mx. Stokes glanced over the students and called on Kai’s much shorter raised arm instead.

“The Ruined Zone,” Kai said.

“Ruins Zone,” Logan corrected in a whisper.

“Right, the Ruins Zone,” Mx. Stokes said. “Or the Collapse Zone. It probably looks a lot like the place where you guys had your heroes vs. villains exercise, and where you took your entrance exam.”

Virgil shuddered at the memory.

“However, the Ruins Zone is meant to simulate an urban environment in the middle of a disaster like an earthquake or tornado, and some of the buildings are not very stable.” They’d finally reached the base of the stairs and had landed almost among the buildings where Patton, just coming off the elevator, was waiting for them. Virgil was startled by the level of detail in the fallen city. Real road signs lay bent at the side of cracked roads. He could see inside individual broken windows and into the rooms inside. He could imagine himself, perched on top of a building in his mask. He could swoop inside the windows and rescue...who was inside the building? He imagined a crouched figure inside. Perhaps it was—

He cut off his daydream halfway. Unrealistic.

“Could...could one of the buildings collapse now?” Kai asked nervously.

“Nope,” Mx. Stokes said, hands on their hips. “The entire building is currently in safety mode. Nothing can hurt you right now so long as nobody goes messing around. But some of the beams and stones are very unstable and are liable to collapse if tampered with, so it’s not a good place to experiment if you don’t know it very well. Anybody know the name of this next zone?”

Since they’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Logan had edged closer to the front of the class and was directly in Mx. Stokes line of sight when he raised his hand.

“Logan.”

“The Landslide Zone,” Logan enunciated.

“That’s right,” Mx. Stokes said, turning around to lead then away from the buildings and toward the small town, surrounded by forest and half-buried under the edge of the mountain with mud and rocks. “I think the name is pretty self-explanatory.”

Virgil was astonished with how long it took to walk first to the Landslide Zone and then all the way to the Mountain Zone, around five or six o’clock on Mx. Stokes’ imaginary map. Surely the building didn’t look this big from the outside? If he kept his gaze focused on the mountain, he found he could almost forget he was inside a building.

“Quite a lot of cliffs there,” Mx. Stokes declared after ignoring Logan’s hand to allow Remy to say “Mountain Zone.”  

“Here’s a question,” Mr. Picani said, coming to stand beside Mx. Stokes. “I want each of you to think about your quirk strengths and weaknesses for a moment, and when we get back to the entrance, I’d like to hear which zones you feel work to your advantage and which would be most difficult for you.”

“Does this count as homework?” Remy asked.

Mr. Picani pointed a joking finger at the students. “Be lucky this is Hero Studies and not Literature or I’d have you write an essay on it.” A few students chuckled good-naturedly.

“We’ll take a quick break here,” Mx. Stokes said. “You guys can think about that question and take a quick look around the base of the mountain. No climbing though, okay?”

Some of the students practically sprinted toward the rocks, while Virgil and several others fell gratefully into splayed sitting positions.

“I am going to investigate the rock face, would you like to come?” Logan asked, leaning over Virgil.

“No thanks,” Virgil said. “Think I’m just gonna chill out here.”

“Understood.” Logan sped-walked away, paused to examine a root, and vanished behind a small clump of trees at the base of the mountain.

It is cool, having all this stuff indoors, Virgil admitted to himself. But he was no geology student. He flopped onto his back. The ground felt like real dirt, and he stared through the ceiling’s metal beams to see the clouds drifting lazily overhead. He hadn’t slept well after the news about Mr. Sanders. It was silly but—

He was distracted from his thoughts as Mx. Stokes leaned in to say something to Mr. Picani, too quietly for Virgil to hear except as a mutter. The glass hero touched the other teacher on the arm, and the two took several steps away from the class, though Mr. Picani’s gaze still scanned the students, most of whom had run some distance away or were now chatting amongst themselves. Kai had made a bouncy ball using his goo quirk and he and Kenny were tossing it back and forth, occasionally sprinting after it when it managed to slip through their fingers.

What was Glass saying to Picani? Half-closing his eyes, Virgil rolled onto his side as casually as possible to see the pair better. With the arrest of Mr. Sanders, maybe it was better not to trust anyone, not even the other UA teachers.

From Virgil’s distance, Mx. Stokes’ furrowed brows looked almost sympathetic as he spoke. Picani shooed the younger teacher away after a moment, and Mx. Stokes took a respectful step back.

Something’s going on between those two, Virgil thought. He glanced around to see if any of the other students were watching, but the only one nearby was Patton who was—

Looking at him.

Virgil quickly rolled over and went back to half-closing his eyes. He probably didn’t see that, he tried to convince himself. It didn’t work. He really didn’t like Patton’s eyes. If Virgil had had the courage, he would have watched to see if Patton ever actually blinked, or if his eyes were always staring just a bit. He didn’t look back for several minutes, and was nearly drifting into a nap when Mx. Stokes’ voice broke out again.

“Okay, everybody come back!” Mx. Stokes called. “Roman, you’re class rep, aren’t you? Run around toward the mountain and make sure we’ve got everybody back.”

Virgil pushed himself back into a standing position and dusted himself up without checking to see whether Patton was looking at him.

“Enjoyed your rest?” Logan asked as he approached.

“Enjoyed your investigating?” Virgil responded.

“Thoroughly. They’ve used an ingenious mix of sedimentary rock and artificial materials to create an accurate imitation of a genuine landmass. The trees are growing via an irrigation system routed from the lake under the tile.”

“Who knows the name of the next zone?” Mx. Stokes asked. Logan’s delight at the discovery of sediment and irrigations had distracted him long enough that he had not raised his hand by the time the question was answered.

“The Conflagration or Fire Zone.”

“That’s right, Roman,” Mx. Stokes said. “Let’s start moving that way. And before any of you freak out—” The teacher raised their hands defensively. “The safety settings make the location totally secure.”

A few students scoffed, but Virgil stifled a grateful sigh. The Conflagration Zone, situated near seven o’clock, was the first of the zones covered completely in a dome, this one red instead of clear, with drawn-on flames rising along the sides. Ordinarily, Virgil would have thought of it as a large building, but dwarfed by the entire U.S.J. it was much less impressive. Virgil could almost feel Logan shaking with excitement next to him.

“How does the Conflagration Zone work?” Virgil said, deadpan.

“Very interesting that you would ask!” Logan almost burst out. “Actually, the fire in the space is maintained via a chemical balance, not by burning materials, which regulates it while simulating real fire. Many of the materials inside are actually functionally fireproof. A ventilation system maintains a regulated amount of smoke, and—”

“So,” Mx. Stokes began from the front of the group. Logan trailed off his lecture to listen. “We’re about to go inside the dome now. We are going to stop right inside the entrance, where there won’t be any fire, so don’t break off from the group or run around.”

The doors looked as if they might lead into an ordinary pavillion or museum, but Virgil shivered (ironically, he thought) at the prospect of going inside. He pulled his hood over his head.

“The Conflagration Zone is an environmentally controlled space—” The teacher’s voice changed as he crossed the threshold of the dome, and Virgil was pushed along as the students followed. It was a good thing Logan had already told him about the zone, because he couldn’t hear Mx. Stokes talking over the roaring in his ears.

Like the Ruins Zone, the space contained rubble and several collapsed structures, all engulfed in fire. Standing just inside the door was like facing a raging campfire, and Virgil flushed in the heat. There was no lighting inside the dome besides the flames, so the entire place was illuminated in red and orange. A few mock streets between buildings were the only places away from the entrance that seemed to be totally clear of fire. The class’ brief stay inside was mostly a blur for Virgil, and he breathed deeply when they turned and proceeded back outside. Outside, Virgil realized, was how he thought of the inside of U.S.J., despite the domed ceiling above them.

“Everybody really likes this next spot,” Mx. Stokes said. “Who knows what it’s called?”

“Flood Zone,” a few students said at once.

“Right, sometimes called the Shipwreck Zone,” Mx. Stokes went on. “Nice relief after that heat, huh?”

The students muttered agreement. Near nine o’clock arched the clear blue water of the artificial lake, a large yacht bobbing like a massive buoy two hundred yards from the shore. Behind the lake rose up a small mountain on which perched wooden scaffolding to support a amusement-park-style waterslide, funneling water into the lake. The main slide twisted around several times, reaching the height of an office building, and was wide enough that the entire yacht could have slid inside it. An offshoot from the slide did not come to rest in the water, but jutted out over the zone, spewing water to form a waterfall.

“Looks fun, right?” Mx. Stokes said. “You can’t see from here, but rock formations stab out of the belly of the slide, and the way down is pretty dangerous. The slide and boat are fully functional, though. You guys can check them out when you come back for your first session of rescue training.”

They’d reached the edge of the water, and Mx. Stokes bent down on the mossy shore to reach into the water and cup it in their hand.

“Lightly chlorinated,” they said. “To keep out bacteria and the like. You can even—” and they slurped the water from their hand like they were taking a shot. “Though I don’t necessarily recommend it. Go ahead and touch if you like.”

Several of the students plunged their hands into the water. Kai slipped off his sandles and dipped in his toes. Virgil slid down to sitting and felt the wet ground sink slightly under his weight. When he stuck his fingers into the lake, he could still see them clearly, if slightly distorted in shape and blued in color.

Logan plopped down next to Virgil and plunged his arm in all the way up to his shirt sleeve. When he pulled his hand back out, he’d grasped a fistful of soil from the edge of the water.

“Incredible,” he said, rubbing the grains of sandy dirt between his fingers. “They’ve actually incorporated the lake directly into the ground of the location. The irrigation of the water must be highly advanced.” When he sat back up, the front of his shirt was blurred with mud, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“The lake is connected directly to our next zone,” Mx. Stokes said, gesturing to the dome near ten o’clock. “The Downpour Zone’s ceiling and floor are routed with pipes to and from the lake to create the constant rain without wasting water. Now, I can see you’re all enjoying the lake, but I’m not sure you all would like to walk into the eye of a storm.”

Virgil suspected Logan would enjoy that very much, if it meant a chance to learn about irrigation or whatever it was.

“So, we’re going to walk along the dome and take a look through the doors, and we won’t be getting soaked,” Mx. Stokes said, beginning to walk around the edge of the lake toward the second dome at a brisk trot. Some of the students took an extra moment to get up from the shore, and Kai skipped several steps as he tried to put on his left sandal. Mr. Picani brought up the rear.

“You guys still with me?” Mx. Stokes called over their shoulder smilingly. “We’re almost done, I promise.”

As they approached the final dome, there was a faint sound of thunder from within, muffled by the walls, and Virgil had an image of the Downpour Zone as a snowglobe on Mx. Stokes’ mantlepiece. The dome was indigo and dappled with large painted clouds of blue and purple, intersected with large beams. When the teacher swung the double doors in to let the students peer inside, Virgil remained suspended near the back of the group. He’d seen storms before, and he only had to wait through a few minutes of oohs and ahhs before it was the time he’d been dreading: time to ascend back up all those massive stairs to the exit. Do you want to be a hero or not? he asked himself in an attempt at motivation.

Not that badly, he responded.

The entire group sans Patton and Mr. Picani, who had returned in the elevator, slugged up the stairs. The only students still apparently full of energy were Kai and Logan, who had sparked a conversation in their mutual admiration of the space and were now gibbering away to one another excitedly.

Too discouraged by the stairs to keep up, Virgil walked a few steps behind. It looked like Logan had found a new, more willing set of ears, even if those ears sometimes leaked goo. Virgil found he wasn’t relieved to be rid of Logan’s lecturing, and managed to catch a few snippets of their conversation.

“The production of the building was a direct result of…that’s why I find it so interesting....me too!”

Kai was several inches shorter than Logan, and did pant for breath about halfway up the stairs. Virgil slowed even further, but still caught up to the pair.

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan said. He was smiling. “Kai also knows a lot regarding the history of U.S.J.”

“I’m a big Glass fan,” Kai said, pausing to catch his breath. “I figured.” Virgil hadn’t meant to sound so cold, but Kai’s nose was leaking goo again. The shorter boy sniffed and then suddenly tensed. “Oh no, don’t—” Virgil didn’t get a chance to finish before Kai let out a massive sneeze, splattering Virgil with flecks of goo like smashed Jell-O.

“Oh, gross!” he said instinctively, shoving Kai away from him. Whether the other student was already thrown off balance or whether he’d pushed harder than he meant to Virgil was never quite sure, but Kai tumbled back and would have fallen onto his butt if Logan had not been directly behind him. Too surprised to catch Kai, Logan fell back against the railing of the stairs with an “oof,” Kai essentially in his lap. His glasses went flying.

Kai exclaimed and threw out one hand as if to catch the glasses, and they were enveloped suddenly by goo shot from his fingers before they flew past the safety rail and over the edge of the tall, tall staircase.

Kai almost screamed. “I’m really sorry!” he said, covering the noise of Virgil swearing.

Virgil leaned down to drag Kai to his feet — he was very light — and take Logan by the hand.

“I think my glasses…” Logan muttered.

“They went over the edge,” Virgil said. “Gosh, I’m so so sorry, will you need new ones? Can you see okay? Should I—”

“Oh, they’re not broken!” Kai insisted.

“What?” Logan got back to his feet.

“They’re not broken,” Kai said. “My goo is a shock absorber, they’ll be protected.”

“Everything okay back there?” Mx. Stokes had been leading the group, but paused when Kai shouted, and had now turned around to approach them. Mr. Picani appeared at the top of the steps after exiting the elevator with Patton and was also peering down to see why the group had paused.

“We’re so sorry, Mx. Stokes,” Virgil stuttered. “It was my fault. Logan’s glasses fell over the side of the stairs.”

“Well, that’s not good,” Mx. Stokes said after a beat. They leaned over the guardrail to peer into the Ruins Zone below. “Can’t see much from here, huh? Well, why don’t you — and what’s your name, kid?” They planted their left hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Virgil.”

“Okay, Virgil, I don’t think Logan here will be much help to you down there.”

Logan had, in fact, lost his depth perception and was experimentally walking up and down the nearest three steps with only minimal success.

“You...you want me to go down there?” Virgil asked. He was unsure how to put confused emphasis on every word in a sentence at once.

Mx. Stokes tapped their thumb against their lip. “Here, Virgil, why don’t you take your class rep, he’s a popular guy, right? His light quirk will be a big help down there.” Virgil had no time to protest before Mx. Stokes was waving. “Hey, Roman! Hop down here a minute!”

Roman was near the front of the group but trooped down the steps at the sound of his name. Mx. Stokes slapped their right hand onto his shoulder so they stood in a T-pose connecting the boys (albeit a crooked T, because Roman was taller than Virgil).

“You’re gonna take a jaunt with Virgil here to recover Logan’s glasses,” Mx. Stokes said. “Think of it like a real hero mission, boys.”

Roman looked unimpressed.

“Now,” Mx. Stokes went on. “Safety settings are still on in all zones, so there’s nothing dangerous down there so long as neither of you messes with anything. Just go ahead and run down there and right back up and we’ll hold the bus for you.” They lightly smacked both the boys’ shoulders and jogged away, gesturing for the rest of the class to follow.

“I really appreciate it, Virgil,” Logan said, touching Virgil’s arm lightly before walking away and leaving Virgil facing Roman on the middle of the stair.

The two stared at one another for a second before Roman huffed and started off down the steps. “Well, are we going or not?”

Virgil bit his tongue. He supposed putting up with Roman was enough of a punishment for sending Logan’s glasses spiraling into a collapsed city, and began to follow the other boy down, loath to think that he’d have to climb the stairs all over again.

When Virgil reached the base of the steps, Roman had wandered a few steps into the city and was staring around the ground, occasionally swearing under his breath.

“Thought you and Specs were buddies or something,” he said, peering under some fallen beams. “What’d you knock his glasses off for?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Virgil snapped.

“Geez, chill out,” Roman said, straightening up. “Just a question. Where did the damn things go, anyhow?”

“They fell over there,” Virgil said, pointing deeper into the ruins. There were a number of beams arching above the walk and though a strong sunlight was coming through the ceiling, it was difficult to see underneath them. “Why don’t you just use your quirk?”

“I don’t need to use it for everything!” Roman said a little too loudly.

“Geez, just a question,” Virgil said, imitating Roman and sticking out his tongue. “What, jealous since you’re basically quirkless anyway?”

“Hey, fuck off!” Virgil said, bristling. “I didn’t drag you down here or anything.”

“You said it was your fault the stupid things fell.” Roman took a few steps toward Virgil, his hands balled into fists.

“Yeah, but it’s not my fault that you’re acting like a massive ass,” Virgil snarled.

“Oh, fuck off, I’ll get the stupid things myself.” Roman whirled around. He stalked away, shaking slightly at the shoulders. Just as he was about to round the corner of one of the collapsed buildings, he took a furious swing at a low hanging beam, the impact of which created a hollow groaning sound. Roman kept walking.

Virgil was about to follow him when suddenly the groaning grew instead of faded, and the beam shuddered and collapsed directly over Roman’s head.

[scottsflow]

So what do you think about Scott's engagement with Jackie ?

Yeah sorry I haven’t been around this weekend. It’s been a terrible weekend in America and I have a lot of family in El Paso so I had about a half of hour of panic trying to figure out if they were okay (thank god they were) so I needed to step out of this fandom for a bit especially given the shit storm that brewed over the weekend.

I’m still not in a great headspace and reading everything that has happened here isn’t helping if I’m honest. This fandom has long become a place that isn’t exactly great for my mental health and that’s only increased this weekend.

I’ll go more in depth with my thoughts on everything after the cut but the summary is, Scott is an idiot who is rushing into things because he’s running from Tessa and Jackie is an ignorant, privileged person who has no awareness or respect for the people that Trump has hurt/killed and feels threatened by Tessa.

For a good while, I’ve been keeping my opinions of this whole relationship to a minimum because, if I’m honest, the whole thing has always been troubling to me.

Summer of 2018 we get the podcast from Scott where he states they are both single and then shortly after, we get the single photo of him in Florida. I’m assuming this is when they started dating for a couple of reasons. Namely, Jackie was still with her former husband up until at least the fall of the year as he was listed as her husband in an obituary that was posted and there was no way Scott started dating her until after SOI in 2018 because he legit didn’t have time to.

During this time, Jackie is still legally married. I know some people dismiss this but I just can’t. It’s fine if you want to get divorced but, if it were me, I would pretty much instantly file for that at the point when I wanted to start dating someone not wait five more months until you’re going to a public event with him and then suddenly file it. The divorce was uncontested, the fact that she waited just adds to my unease with the whole thing. I have no idea if Scott knew she was still married but I kind of have to assume he did which… doesn’t speak volumes to me about how that relationship started. 

So Scott has only been dating her while she’s legally single for like three months because her divorce wasn’t even finale until March and now they’re engaged?? I’m sorry but that is rushing into things.

I have no idea why, hardly a year after they started dating, they would get engaged. They still live in different countries, they have very different jobs that they can’t just get up and leave from, and Jackie has lived for 10 years in America. She’s a citizen there, is she just going to pack up and move back to Canada? JUST for another marriage?

I’m sorry but really? She already had a 10 year marriage fall apart, surely that would make you more wary of jumping into a relationship so fast. I would think long and hard before getting married again but I guess she’s fine with rushing into things.

And Scott… really?

I know some people don’t agree but can you really look me in the eyes and say for sure that he and Tessa weren’t together at least up until March of last year? Like REALLY?

The whole thing just feels to me like he’s running away from Tessa because things went wrong. This feels like after Sochi where they just go their separate ways and Tessa is super busy all the time and Scott is diving headfirst into a relationship only this time, he’s actually proposed just to take it a step further. They are both avoiding each other, the only difference is they have the tour this time. 

The fact of the matter is, Scott has been in this relationship hardly a year and during that time, he was all over the place because they live in two different countries so spending time together, as he said, was hard and now they are engaged? Just as soon as her divorce was final? How can anyone look at that and say that that’s a stable start to a relationship.

This is clearly Scott just running away from Tessa because their relationship fell apart and he’s scared and over reacting. How quickly they got engaged just proves that for me. The two of them were probably not in a great place when they started dating with Scott breaking up with Tessa and Jackie’s marriage ending and I just can’t imagine that those mindsets lead to a healthy start to a relationship.  

If Scott is truly trying to find the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with, surely he’d want to take a little more time to get to know them before jumping the gun and getting engaged. Yes, I know they knew each other when they were little but she’s lived in America for 10 years. People completely change during that time and I just can’t imagine marrying someone so quickly. Especially considering the fact that they both admit they didn’t really have time to process all of last year before November so they’re still very much in the transition stage of their life. 

Yes, I know they have the tour this year but all these other off ice projects they kept promising aren’t happening. It would honestly wouldn’t shock me if this is the last year of the tour either. He’s running away from her and only seeing her for work and can’t even manage to call her his friend during his wof speech I mean what?

Because I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that she probably feels threatened by Tessa. I mean it’s been a running theme with these two and, after last year, who the hell wouldn’t be? You have all of the country either thinking they were together or wishing with all their hearts that they would be and we all saw what we saw between them. Again, there’s a reason that this fandom became a thing.

People thought they were together, hell we have kobe, and the idea that this engagement is some sort of way to reassure jackie wouldn’t shock me in the least. See today during his speech. He tries to play up her position in his past to make it seem like what they have is comparable to his and Tessa’s partnership (despite that clearly not being the case) and the way he acts around Tessa now. No cheek kisses, no unneeded touching, he doesn’t even look at her as much. You can’t even compare it to last year because it’s SO different.

The way he talked about jackie and tessa today is frankly crazy. To compare what they have is wildly out of order and frankly disrespectful to Tessa. They have 21 years of hard work behind them and he and Jackie have a year of dating across different countries and a rushed engagement three months after her engagement was final. And to bring attention to it on this day is just… I can’t get past that. 

He’s clearly pulling back from Tessa to reassure Jackie and it’s another red flag for me. If you have to change the way you act with your apparent best friend just to make your SO feel okay, that should tell you that you don’t have trust. And if you don’t have trust, you don’t have anything.

The fact that they live in two different countries only feeds that insecurity because they aren’t together all the time and so the engagement to make it feel more permeant. Also, again, you should trust your SO even if you live apart. Hell, my mom and her boyfriend live in different states and have so for a year since he moved back home to take care of his mom and it’s not a problem. Yes, they miss each other but they trust each other and so there’s no fear of cheating or anything like that. 

So, he gets her a ring, she stops complaining. 

Is it healthy? Nope. Is it the right way to start a marriage? Absolutely not. 

But it’s easier than actually having to deal with all the stuff that is causing the issues in the first place. I don’t think anyone looks at this engagement and sees it as the move of someone who is in a stable place in their relationship. It’s so rushed and their whole relationship has been surrounded by all these external factors that put stress on it. 

Now, onto the stuff we learned about Jackie and Trump this week…

I know a lot of people here are from Canada but I’m from the US and holy fuck guys, making jokes like she makes? It’s awful. 

I’m not joking when I say that what she’s mocking is literal children in cages and literal children dying. She lives in the US, she knows. This shit is on the news like every night, it’s impossible NOT to know. So either she supports Trump or she just doesn’t give a fuck about children dying. 

I don’t think Scott supports those things, I don’t think he would ever say the things she does but guys, I cannot stress this enough, it is so important not to just let these things fly.

When they started dating, she was saying these things and now that they are engaged she is STILL saying these things. Scott has to know these things are going on and he clearly isn’t saying anything and that more than anything makes me upset with him. 

Yes, it’s hard. It’s hard to call out people you care about but it’s also so important. I can’t tell you how many of my family I’ve had to do it to because it is so important for white people to do too. It can’t just be a job left for the people affected. So to see Scott basically enabling her… I mean I can’t tell you how awful that is. Being in a relationship with her is a choice he’s making. She’s not part of his family, he’s not stuck with her like I am with my great aunts and uncles, being with her is something that he’s choosing and it hurts so much to see him choosing someone with views as awful as hers. 

People died this week because of Trump’s hateful rhetoric and to see her making fucking jokes about it… is horrible. Because the honest truth is, she would never be deported. She’s white. She’s Canadian. She’s so privileged and it’s frankly disgusting to see her making those jokes because of that. 

I just can’t believe that that is the type of person that Scott wants to spend the rest of his life with. Nothing about her or this relationship seems healthy or stable and the rush into getting engaged is such a huge red flag for me. That’s not the way you start off a long lived relationship and it just screams insecurity to me. 

I can’t express how disappointed I am in Scott. I think he’s making a huge mistake, one that he’s going to regret sooner rather than later, and I hope he wakes up before he truly regrets it. 

Because I think he’s going to really regret pulling away from Tessa like he has and marrying someone after such a short time. This isn’t the Scott that I fell in love with, this is like pre-comeback Scott all over again. 

If I hadn’t legit booked my flight and airbnb for rtr this week, I seriously would sell my ticket and not go. I just can’t stand to watch them out there. The ice is where they just create an au for themselves and we really get to see what could have been and fuck it hurts.

I just can’t accept that they will be happier with other people than they are with each other. I just always go back to all the stuff they say about how important their relationship is, about how they balance each other out and how they are each others rocks and their centers, and I just look at Scott and Jackie and I just can’t imagine that he feels that way about her. 

Maybe if they didn’t rush straight into the engagement, he could figure that out but as it stands, he didn’t and I truly believe he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life. 

I don’t know what I’m going to do about my involvement in this fandom. This week has been terrible for me and it’s simply not a healthy place for me to be anymore. I’m so angry at Scott I can’t stand it and Tessa’s projects just don’t hold a ton of interest to me. So we’ll see. 

I’m awful at quitting things and I still have rtr to go to but after that… I’m pretty much planning on phasing myself out of here. I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t watch their partnership disappear while Scott married this women who supports everything I hate in America while Tessa buries herself in work. It’s just not what I signed up for and I hate the fact that this is where we ended up. It’s truly the worst timeline and I hate it everyday.  

And before the anons come @ me, yes I do know I’m making a lot of assumptions but no one will ever be able to convince me that Scott didn’t rush into this relationship because he broke up with Tessa. This rushed engagement and their own separation are proof enough of that to me so anything you say probably won’t change my mine. 

[scarlet-star-witch]

Never Enough (Jim Hopper/OC) -  Part 1

Note: This starts pre-series but it will eventually follow through season 1 and maybe the others if people would like me to. This is my first time writing for Hopper and even Stranger Things, but I just finished season 3 and I need to fill the hole in my heart, so here it is. Hope you enjoy! xx

I don’t know what he’s doing with her

What the hell does he think he’s doing with someone that young? Some sort of midlife crisis?

You know what he’s been through, this is just some way to blow off steam

Never thought he’d stoop so low to rob the cradle

Devon rolled her eyes, wishing she had enough courage and confidence to turn around and give those gossiping ladies a piece of her mind. Did they really think she couldn’t hear them?

Rob the cradle, she scoffed to herself. Jim was ten years older than her and people were acting like he was some Hugh Hefner type predator. She had just turned thirty and she was woman enough to make her own choices.

The people of Hawkins, however, did not see it the same way.

If only they knew, Devon thought to herself. The fight she and the Chief had the night before had been a doozy. They’d been seeing each other for a few months, he’d been one of the only ones to be welcoming when she’d moved to the small town and things between them had progressed quickly. 

Her mother had called her naïve for making the decision to move to Hawkins. She knew people like her usually got a bad rep in towns like these, based on the colour of her skin alone. But Devon didn’t care. She needed a new start. She was tired of always looking over her shoulder.

Chicago had too many bad memories and Hawkins seemed to be her safest option to start over. She should have listened to her mother’s warnings, though. The looks that were constantly thrown her way were getting irritating.

It wasn’t like she was the only woman of colour, or hell, person of colour in the town, but she was certainly one of few.

It wasn’t only the colour of her skin that caught the attention of others, no, it was her relationship with Jim Hopper, the chief of police that people loved to talk about. People were quite surprised when they’d seen the pair at the local diner, and then the local bar, or even just holding hands as they strolled around town.

Even months later, they were still the talk of the town. Something Jim absolutely despised.

“Mama?”

The small voice broke her out of her thoughts and she looked to her little boy, his wide brown eyes looking back at her own. Her annoyed expression immediately faded as she looked at her son and she smiled.

“What’s up baby?”

“Mama?” He asked again, pointing to the sugary cereal on the shelf next to them.

Devon smiled and shook her head in defeat, she couldn’t say no to those big brown eyes of his. She grabbed the Lucky Charms and placed them in the cart.

“The things I do for you, little one.” She mumbled, unable to stifle a giggle at the wide smile on Charlie’s cherub-like face.

Devon loved her son, but the sight of him smiling so widely, so innocently, sent an ache to her heart, knowing he was the topic of the fight the night before.

She knew about Jim’s past. She didn’t have to gossip with the bored housewives of Hawkins that had nothing better to do to get the dirt. No, Hopper trusted her enough to tell her about Sara and his ex-wife. He had told her how hard it was to lose his daughter and how hard it was to be around Charlie as a result.

Being a single mom wasn’t easy for her, but Jim had made her life so much easier, he had been so sweet and so helpful, she felt like she could finally give her son the family he deserved. Then Jim got scared. His insecurities got the best of him and he had freaked out, leaving with shouted words and a slamming door.

Devon ignored the stares from the housewives’ book club and made her way to the check out, listening to her son babble as she went. She smiled politely to the checkout girl who she knew was eyeing her curiously, as everyone in this town still did.

She was quick to pick up her son from the cart, grab the grocery bags and get the hell out of the store. She wondered when the mysterious Devon Wicklow would be old news. Apparently, not anytime soon.

Devon sighed, placing the bags in the trunk of her car. She didn’t want to just go home and wallow in silence. Well, wallow in the noise of children’s cartoons. That racket might be worse than silence.

She looked down at Charlie who was looking up at the blue sky curiously, which made her smile. Getting a more comfortable grip on him and shifting him on her hip, she closed the trunk and walked past her car, her sights set on Melvald’s General Store just a few doors down.

Joyce Byers looked up from her crossword puzzle as the bell chimed with the signal of a new customer. Her face lit up and she smiled widely at the woman who entered.

“Devon, hi!”

Devon instantly calmed, Joyce seemed to have that effect on her. Aside from Jim, Joyce and her two boys were some of the few people who were always welcoming and kind to her. The two women knew what it was like to be single mothers and it was a quick bonding factor between them.

“Hi Joyce.”

“Oh, look at that handsome little man. Give him here.” Joyce held out her arms, just dying to hold Charlie, who was equally excited to see her. He squirmed in his mother’s grip, his chubby arms reaching out for Joyce who eagerly took him off of Devon, holding onto him tightly.

“He’s getting so big.”

“I know. Before I know it, he'll be off to college.”

Joyce groaned dramatically, resting her cheek against Charlie’s head. “Don’t remind me. Jonathan started looking at places to apply. I almost started crying.”

Devon smiled and leaned against the counter, her arms were thankful for the break Joyce had given her. The woman looked over at Devon and smiled slyly, a knowing glint in her eye.

“So…”

“So?” Devon answered, raising a brow in question.

“How’s Hop?”

Devon’s smile fell and she lowered her head to avoid Joyce’s gaze. The woman was immediately curious by her reaction and she moved forward, looking at her intently.

“What happened?”

Devon groaned and let her head fall to the counter. “We had a fight last night.” She mumbled.

“About?”

“About Charlie.” She answered softly, not willing to raise her head and have the conversation face to face like an adult.

“What?” Joyce snapped, her face drawn tightly. If it wasn’t for the infant in her arms she would’ve marched down to Hawkins Police station and kicked Jim’s ass herself.

“With all the stuff in his past, you know… Sara and…” She trailed off, unable to say out loud what had happened to that poor little girl. “I knew he was apprehensive, but he said he wasn’t ready to be a father figure to Charlie. I mean, I get why he would be scared, I can’t even begin to imagine what he went through, but why wait until three months into a relationship to tell me? He knew I had a kid when we met and he still asked me out. Why drag me along all this time?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how scared he was until he was in it. I mean, it takes time for a relationship to get serious.” Joyce started, choosing her words carefully so she didn’t upset her new friend. “Maybe it wasn’t until he started seeing you and Charlie more as the relationship grew that he got scared.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Devon said softly and her sad tone had Joyce frowning, looking at the mom sympathetically.

“You wanna come over tonight for dinner, get your mind off everything?” She offered with a small smile.

Devon shook her head. “I don’t wanna impose.”

“No, no, you won’t be. Jonathan and Will love you. And they love Charlie. I’m sure they wanna spend time with the most adorable little boy in the world.” Joyce said, cooing her last sentence to the boy in her arms.

“Alright.” Devon relented. She couldn’t resist, she loved those Byers boys just as much as their mom.

“Alright.” Joyce echoed with a big smile. “I’ll see you at six.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Byers’ home was a little chaotic. Not that Devon was judging. She had a kid, she knew how messy and unorganized life could get. She couldn’t imagine having two, let alone, a teenager and one who was approaching quickly.

Devon smiled as Will held Charlie in his lap, holding out his Star Wars action figures for him to play with.

“Will, be careful. He could choke on that sword.” Joyce warned.

Will rolled his eyes, holding the toy out of Charlie’s grasp. “It’s a lightsaber, mom.”

“Sorry.” Joyce whispered, raising her hands in surrender.

Jonatan smiled at the little boy next to him in his brother’s arms and turned to Devon as they dug into dinner.

“So, Devon, how’s the gallery?”

“It’s great. They’re pretty flexible about me living here. I just have to take weekend trips to Chicago every once in awhile to drop off the pieces.

“Are you selling them?”

“Not all of them. Some of them go up in the gallery as permanent displays and some are specifically requested by clients.” She answered and shared a quick, knowing look with Joyce. “If you want, you could come with me one weekend. I could introduce you to some of the sellers and the clients. They’re always looking for new art styles.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened and he sputtered, flustered. “I-I don’t know about that. I’m too young-”

“That doesn’t matter.” Devon interrupted. “If your stuff is good, it’s good. That’s all they care about.”

Jonathan looked at her in astonishment, like he couldn’t believe what she was offering. He looked to his mother who nodded eagerly and he smiled, looking back to Devon.

“Ok, yeah, I’d love to.”

Once dinner was finished, Charlie started to get fussy and she knew it was time to go. She hugged Joyce tightly, thankful she had found such a great friend.

“Thank you for dinner. I really needed this.”

“Of course. I know how men can be. Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

Devon smiled and nodded. “You know it goes both ways, right? If you ever need anything, I’m just a phone call away.”

“Honey, you’ve already done so much, and just tonight. I can’t remember the last time I saw Jonathan so excited.” Joyce told her, holding onto her hands tightly.

Devon smiled and moved to take Charlie from Will’s arms.

“Thanks for coming, Devon.” Will smiled shyly.

“Of course. You know I’d never pass up the opportunity to see you.”

Will blushed and looked down at his feet as he shifted from side to side. She ruffled his hair and sent a wave to Jonathan.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Joyce waved to her, watching from the window as she strapped Charlie into his car seat. She sent a final wave as she backed out of their driveway.

Devon looked to the rear view mirror, her heart bursting when she saw Charlie wide awake, his feet swinging off beat to the Stevie Nicks song that played on the radio. She couldn’t fathom how much she loved him.

She had never planned to be a mom, but getting pregnant had been a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Something inside her churned uncomfortably. She thought of Jim and her good mood crumpled. She was on her way to loving that big, sweet, idiot of a man, but it had come crashing down around her, like most things in her life had.

Devon was quiet as she drove, not singing along to the radio as she usually did. When she pulled onto her street she immediately spotted the familiar police blazer that was parked outside her house.

She contemplated pulling a u-turn and high tailing it back to Joyce’s to stay the night, but Hawkins was a small town. She knew she’d have to face him sooner or later. Without sparing a look to him as she passed his car, she turned into the driveway, her heart racing and palms sweating at the prospect of the coming confrontation she wasn’t able to avoid.

She heard a door slam just as she had slammed hers shut. She kept her head down and moved to the backseat, reaching to unbuckle Charlie. Just as she was hoisting him into her arms, she saw the man that had refused to leave her mind all day.

Charlie smiled a toothless grin at the familiar man and reached out to him, babbling what sounded an awful lot like ‘Jimmy’.

Jim Hopper prided himself on being a strong willed, stubborn man, but even the sight of Charlie Wicklow made him crumble. He may be an asshole, but he was still human. He swore that kid had superpowers or something. That smile was just too damn cute.

“Hey, buddy.”

The sound of Jim’s deep voice had Devon’s heart jumping wildly in her chest. She kept her expression plain as she turned to face him.

“You need something?”

Her monotonous voice had him wincing and he ran a hand over his face tiredly. It had been a long day, to say the least. The words they both spat at each other the night before had nagged at him all day.

“Can we talk? Please?” He practically pleaded, sensing her derision.

Devon didn’t respond. She hesitated for a few seconds before nodding her head towards her house as she carried Charlie to the front door.

Jim followed eagerly like a lost puppy, his hands wringing nervously. He stepped inside the familiar place, standing back and watching like an outsider as she moved around the house, getting Charlie ready for bed.

Jim’s chest tightened uncomfortably as he slumped into the kitchen chair, his fingers tapping the table erratically. He knew the routine by heart now, given all the times he’d stayed over. The thought had the guilt he’d felt all day growing exponentially.

“You want a drink?” Devon asked as she walked back in the kitchen, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Sure.” He muttered, taking his hat off and placing it on the table in front of him.

“So? What’s up?” She asked awkwardly as she poured out two glasses of whiskey. Jim sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat, already preparing himself for rejection.

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize.” He started, looking across the table at her hesitantly.

Devon raised a brow and slid the glass of whiskey over to him before swiftly taking a large swig of her own.

“For?”

Jim sighed and mirrored her actions, gulping his drink down in one swallow. “You know what for.” He answered, his voice strained from the strength of the drink. “I was bein’ a jackass last night. Should never had said what I said.”

“So you didn’t mean it?” She asked sternly. “About not wanting to be around Charlie, you didn’t mean it?”

“I never said I didn’t wanna be around him.” Jim was quick to defend himself. “I was just… I dunno, I was too chicken shit to admit I was scared.”

“Of?”

Jim sighed and slunk back in his seat, his eyes averting from hers. “Scared of not being enough for you two.”

“What?” Devon asked in disbelief, her face shrouded in confusion. “Jim, you said you didn’t wanna be a father figure to him. What the fuck does that have to do with-”

“I’m not good enough for you!” He snapped, his eyes finally lifting to meet hers. “You’re this successful artist, you had a life going for you. I bet you never pictured yourself with some out of shape, old guy.” He vented, his fingers circling the rim of his glass as a nervous tick. It was frightening being this open and honest, even with her. “I was scared you’d eventually figure that out so I got out before you could break me.”

Devon was shocked, her lips parted but no sound came out. She just stared at him in bewilderment.

“Jim, I can’t even tell you how wrong you are.” She breathed out, shaking her head in annoyance at his petty actions.

“I’ll admit, I was scared to be around Charlie. After I lost Sara I thought I’d never find happiness again, I never thought I could handle being around a kid again. Then you walked into this town and into my life and you turned everything around. It scared me, how fast I fell for you.” Jim admitted quietly, almost like he was embarrassed. “Took me one day without you to realize I’d made an ass out of myself.”

Devon was silent as he poured his heart out. Her fingers fidgeted on the table in front of her like a nervous child and she watched him apprehensively.

“My son is non-negotiable. You can’t have me if you don’t want him.”

Jim reached out, his fingers grazing hers, but she quickly pulled away. The hurt look on his face was like a lightning bolt to her chest and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Jim, I need to know if this is real. I can’t have you walking in and out of Charlie’s life. I can’t let you do that to him. I need to know that you really mean it, that you really wanna be with me.” She warned, her heart racing inside her chest.

“I mean it. I wanna be with you, I wanna make it up to you. I wanna be around Charlie, if you’ll let me.” He told her sincerely, looking her straight in the eye.

The deep blue eyes of his were her undoing and she smiled, feeling shy under his fierce gaze. The sight of her smile had Jim letting out a long exhale in relief. He moved out of his seat and kneeled next to her, his hands grabbing hers.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathed out, wrapping her in a hug that she quickly responded to. She held onto him tightly, as if worried that he’d immediately change his mind and leave.

“No more being an idiot, ok?”

“Well, you know I can’t promise that.” Jim smiled and she didn’t know if she loved or hated how charming he could be. “But, I can promise that I won’t be walking out on you or the little one, ever.”

“You sure? Cause, really, I wouldn’t blame you if this is too much for you. I know what you went through-”

“Dev,” Jim interrupted, a smirk growing on his face. “Stop talking.”

Before she could say anything else, he crashed his lips to hers, his hands framing her face gently. Devon melted into his embrace, her arms winding around his neck. A soft moan left her lips as they kissed passionately, the fire brimming within them from the emotions that were still running high from their whirlwind fight.

Devon pulled away, a teasing smile on her face. “You know, I think I need a better apology. Your first one wasn’t quite convincing enough.”

Jim smiled widely, biting his lip in a way that drove her wild.

“Well, Ms.Wicklow, I think I have the perfect apology in mind.” He rasped, placing a kiss on her neck and grinning smugly when she shivered. He stood from his spot and grabbed her by her hips, heaving her up into his arms.

She stifled a squeal into his chest, her hands winding into his hair as he carried her into her bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~

From outside the quaint house, two men in a van watched as the lights turned out. The man holding the binoculars threw them down, his teeth grinding in anger. Jake Pierson was not a calm man by any means. All his coworkers knew not to approach him when he was tense, in fear of poking the bear.

“That’s her?” The other man asked, looking to his companion, slightly worried by the anger he saw in his eyes.

“Yeah.” He answered shortly.

“And that’s the kid?”

“Yes.” He spat back, his patience beginning to slip away.

“Well, let’s go. Brenner’s on our ass about letting this one get away. The sooner we bring the little brat in, the sooner he’ll stop breathing down our necks.”

“No.” Jake stopped him before he could exit the van. “Not while the Chief’s there. We need to get her while she’s vulnerable.”

His companion sighed in annoyance and started the vehicle to drive back to the lab. “Alright, well, you’re explaining to Brenner why we don’t have the kid yet.”

Jake ignored him, his eyes on the rear-view mirror, watching as the house faded into the darkness of the night. His hands were almost trembling in anticipation. It had been a long road, she’d almost gotten off their grid, but they were finally so close to completing their mission.

They just had to get her away from the Chief.

[planetsam]

“Come one Alex stay with me, breathe!” - Michael. For malex

Michael is in the bathroom when he gets a sharp jab in his skull.

It’s like someone is poking at him and he recoils from the sink, almost crashing into some other guy. He mumbles an apology when it happens again. It forces him to listen or to feel, he’s pretty sure this isn’t auditory. Discomfort hits him, followed by disgust and it shapes itself into an thought it takes him a moment to fully comprehend.

Get out here.

Michael gets out. Maria is the focal point of several guys who are well into that nasty drunk phase. One of them has her hand on his, it looks seductive but Michael knows she’s got it there for a reason. Maria’s a great fucking actress, nothing about her screams help. The most he gets is surprise that she quickly turns to a grin that’s completely apologetic.

“Sorry guys,” she says, “honey what are you doing here? I’m working?”

“Trying to decide which of these guys sucks more ass at pool,” he says, “I think it’s a three way tie.”

They rush him at the same time.

After Maria puts ice to the right side of his face as he wishes that Max was there. She is quiet and he wonders if he fucked up. But she lowers the ice and takes his hands in both of hers.

“You’ve never come that fast before,” she says, “did you hear me?”

Michael’s mouth is dry. Immediately his mind flashes from the bathroom to the prison. The pain to the overwhelming love he felt. It was easier to understand, like his mother knew how to work the connection. How to control everything. He remembers the gentleness of her voice rather than the way Maria felt like she was desperately trying to get his attention. Like she didn’t think he could hear.

“How many times did you call?” He asks.

“Twice.”

He feels lightheaded. It must show on his face because something painfully hopeful shows on Maria’s. He can hear her. He can hear her and she isn’t alone until she has kids. Oh thank you, thankyoutthankyou—Michael shoves himself back and Maria let’s go of his hands instantly. Her sunshine warm fog becomes ephemeral and dissipates, leaving him alone. He almost snatches it back but he can’t move until it’s gone. And then everything is just cold and jumbled.

“I don’t—“ he shakes his head, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re an empath,” She says, “we may have been along the same wavelength so you didn’t realize,” he looks at her blankly, “my mom used to do that to me until I got strong enough.”

“I’m not an empath, I’m telekinetic,” he protests, “how can I just develop—“ he stops, his stomach dropping, “I gotta go.”

Maria lets him, nothing but sympathy on her face. He stops at the door and turns around.

“I’ll help. When you’re ready,” she says, “you shouldn’t go through this alone.”

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t call Alex on his way over. 1 am is late but Alex is a night owl. He’s definitely awake. Michael thinks back to Max after he killed Noah. He’d been almost in a mania but Michael hadn’t thought much of it. And then he had been dead, which took precedence. Absorbing other people’s powers, that wasn’t something they had thought about. But why would it be? Until very recently they hadn’t known there were other people’s powers to absorb. He tugs his curls and fights the uncomfortable feeling of someone else’s powers in him. He knows all the cheesy shit about parents passing things on and he knows the genetic part of it. But this is like a tangible part of his mother is rooted him and he can’t wrap his head around it. Before he goes crazy, he has to be sure. And there’s only one place he knows to get answers from.

The lights are on in Alex’s cabin and Michael barely stops the car before he walks to the door. He knocks hard. He can only hope that Alex will let him in, that he’ll get it. This is bigger than their romantic stuff, right? The door opens and he has to rethink that. Alex is standing there in a pair of grey pj bottoms and a white t-shirt, a pair of glasses on his nose. His hair is sticking out in all directions. A wave of longing crashes over Michael. He looks good and something is wrong. Alex silently takes a deep breath and calm settles over him, though historically Alex taking a deep breath happens before shit hits the fan. It’s never calming to be on the other end. Which can only mean—

“Oh fuck,” Michael realizes. Maria was right. She was cancelling him out, “shit.”

A wave of affection and hurt crashes over him but he smiles around the anche.

“Hi to you too,” Alex says, “you want to come in?”

“No!” The word is loud and emphatic. Concern joins the other emotions, “can you not—“ he wishes Alex moved towards him so he could have some excuse. But Alex knows him too well, “I need the stuff you have on my mom,” he says. Guilt crescendos. God, Alex, no. “I can wait here.”

“Come inside,” Alex says.

Michael gingerly steps in, trying to pull his emotions back from Alex’s. It feels invasive, like he’s spying on something he has no right to see. Which is exactly what he’s doing, even accidentally. It’s difficult to find the mental wall he uses on his siblings. They are respectful and he doesn’t have to try terribly hard. Alex’s emotions are more like waves that lap at him. He has to adjust with so many factors. Alex opens a locked box inside a locked cabinet and more guilt slips knife sharp along his defenses.

“I’ve been trying—“

“It’s okay,” he says, fighting the way he crashes back into that aching pit, “Alex it’s fine,” he reiterates, ignoring the confusion that rolls in.  Alex boots up the drive and steps back. There is a prickle of trepidation at the ladder, “you don’t have to go,” he says, not taking his eyes from the screen. He gets to it finally and looks at the mugshot. He cannot go to pieces. He looks first for the powers. They are charted with terrible precision, “shit.”

“What?” Alex asked and the guilt hits him.

“My mom passed her power onto me,” he says, looking away from more information than he can digest, “she’e in me,” he stresses. Alex is unsure and guilty, “i’m like Maria on steroids,” he says. Before he can untangle Alex he continued, “you shouldn’t feel guilty about Cauffield. I don’t blame you for that,” and just to be sure, “your ass looks great in those pants.”

“You’re not funny,” Alex tells him, “you can feel everything?”

“I’m hysterical and i don’t know,” he glances at the screen.

“May I?” Alex asks.

Michael nods gratefully as Alex peers at the screen, digesting the information. He looks at Michael and then back at the screen.

“Empathic abilities, memory probing, mind sharing—“

“Max does that when he heals someone. Leaves a glowing handprint.”

“This doesn’t say anything about a handprint,” he says.

“What about the connection lasting?” Michael asks, “or if she could control it?” He turns.

“Don’t!” Alex blocks the chair with his hand. But Michael turns anyway, catching a glimpse of wires and wires and a shaved head— “look at me,” Alex orders, “focus on me.”

He latches onto Alex’s calmness and sureness. Everything is going to be okay. Michael is going to be okay. He is going to be fine and all he has to do is look into Alex’s pretty eyes and old man glasses. A surprises bark of laughter rips from. Old man glasses, he hears emphatically. Affection mirrors his own somewhere deep under everything else. For the first time in his life, Michael sees the red glow start between his fingers. All the emotion retreats like a curtain pulling back. It’s the overture to something bigger. Alex looks at his hand as well.

“What’s it going to do?” Alex asks.

“My hand you mean?” Michael asks. Alex looks but his emotions are a mystery, “I don’t know.”

“I guess we should find out.”

Michael wants to shake his head but it’s Alex. Alex may not know him better than a handful of people but they have a connection. Something even he can’t deny. He misses out on all the ET jokes he could make as he lifts his hand up. Alex does his deep breath thing, which Michael knows is the start of something big as he lifts his hand up and then determination crosses his features and he presses his hand to Michael’s. A zap seems to go all the way up Michael’s arm and then back towards his hand.

Then the explosion happens.

It’s not literal though, God, it might as well be. Everything levels in a single moment like trees being cleared and in the clearing, chaos erupts. It’s a tangle of two lives. Of dark secrets and bright bursts of hope. His leg gets blown off and Alex’s hand gets shattered in the same instant. He grows up terrified and Alex grows up alone. Then they switch back. Over and over again, all in a single instant. It’s molten and It’s going to destroy them both. Though Alex will always fight to the bitter end and matches the maelstrom. Suddenly they’re eleven and seven and sixteen. Michael grabs the seventeen year old memory but he’s to the left instantly. Later that night with Alex collapsed on his bed weeping himself into sickness and exhaustion. Alex is with him in the car, collapsed over the steering wheel with acetone on his lips. Michael tears himself back into the present. Alex is on his knees, fingers slotted through Michael’s and the other hand gripping his forearm. His mouth is in his elbow to muffle the sound but Michael can see he’s screaming.

“Alex, Alex!” He tries to get his attention, “Come on Alex, Alex stay with me!” Michael focuses on the connection, back to the bedroom and seventeen. He shoves Alex through. Through the desert, through the medvac to the blue mats in the VA facility that become his most ardent lovers, “come on Alex!” He grabs him through his doctor, hauling him to his feet, “Alex stay with me!” He forces his their hands together in this world and pulls along the connection, “stay with me!”

They rip back to the bunker violently and Michael’s power sends him backwards as Alex collapses into himself against the floor. Michael scrambles off the chair and crawls to him. Alex is curled around himself and trembling violently. Michael wraps his arms around him and pulls him back against his chest, so Alex’s back is against his front. Alex is barely breathing except for shallow pants of air and his eyes are wild. Worst of all, Michael can feel nothing except static. Like Alex isn’t

“Breathe,” he says, pressing his hand to Alex’s sternum, “come on Alex. Stay with me, breathe!”

Michael forces himself to stay calm but when he feels Alex’s emotions finally hum back, he lets himself sag against him in pure relief.  Alex exhales and sucks in a lungful of air. Michael presses his forehead to his shoulder, remembering why he always fought so hard to never use his power around Alex. He forces his breathing to be steady and exaggerated so Alex will copy him and he does. Propped up on Michael’s chest, he breathes with him.  Michael doesn’t know how long they stay that way, breathing but the hum eventually starts to become other emotions. Michael is better able to push them aside this time and just focus on the tangible person in his arms. Alex shifts eventually so they’re facing each other. Careful not to touch him, Michael reaches out and straightens Alex’s glasses.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay,” Alex gets out, his voice hoarse, “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“What about the bunker?” Michael says, “is the bunker okay?”

Alex’s wave of ‘I am so done with you’ and ‘please keep doing that forever’ breaks over him and Michael leans into it, pressing his forehead to Alex’s.

“Max got Noah’s powers because he killed him,” Michael says.

“Your mother wanted you to have them,” Alex says. Despite what’s just happened, he reaches out and cups both of Michael’s cheeks, his thumbs skimming along his cheekbones, “they were a gift, Michael.”

“How can you say that after what just happened?” He asks.

Alex chuckles, the sound soft and sweet and comforting. And Michael realizes Alex doesn’t think what’s just happened is a bad thing. Scary, to be sure. But he only scares Alex in how he makes him feel. Not in what he is or what he can do. Michael ducks his head and presses his lips to Alex’s as Alex’s fingers slide back to his curls. The kiss is dry and chaste and warm until Alex licks the seam of his mouth and he parts for him. It’s safe here. 

Alex loves him and Michael doesn’t need his powers to know that.

He never has.

[buckthegrump]

The Only One - 1

Word Count: 2122

Warnings: angst, swear words,

A/N: i wrote this a million years

During college there was this guy, cliche but whatever, you had and never would fall as hard or as deep as you fell for that guy. He was everything you wanted and always exactly what you needed him to be. But it was a terrible case of right person wrong time.

Throughout college, you two would want to try but life kept getting in the way. Your friends would joke about how you were soulmates. For three years you thought if you could just get out of college that would be it. You two could finally live the life you wanted together. But before you could finish college at the university you were at your mother got sick and you needed to go back home to help your family.

The last words he ever spoke to you haunted you.

“Maybe someday it will be the right time,” he smiled as you drove off to the airport. That was the last time you saw or heard from him. That was six years ago and you had given up, almost. You started dating again eventually but never really committing to a person. You always got out of a relationship before they tried to take the next step of moving in. Except once. You moved in with him and thought you were ready to move on, turns out you aren’t.

The ring on your finger felt weird like it was weighing you down. This had never been part of your plan, at least not with him. In fact, you had a planned to end things, but he caught you by surprise. You would’ve said no but there were so many people around and he was giving you this look. This look of joy and hope, so when your words failed you and your body took over you were shocked that he slid the ring onto your finger.

It was a beautiful ring, but it didn’t feel right on your finger. Actually, it felt like it was burning you. When your fiance took you to the surprise engagement party he had planned in case you said yes your best friend saw right through you. At first, you tried to convince her that you were just in a little bit of shock but she just stared you down until you admitted that this was not how you saw the night ending.

It was because you were in love with someone else and you couldn’t shake him. You didn’t know where he was, only that he was out there somewhere and waiting for you. You hoped you hoped even when you knew you shouldn’t, you should just move on and live life with the guy who was here ready to marry you. Moving on was something you’d always thought you would do. A part of you wished that he would burst through the door and take you away and you could run with him.

But that didn’t happen which is why you were now standing at an airport in a once familiar city with your best friend Peggy.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” You looked at her.

“(Y/N), if we don’t do this you will regret it for the rest of your life and you will never shut up about it and I don’t want to live with that.” Peggy grabbed her bag and your hand and led you to the rent-a-car kiosk.

You returned to the place where you went to college in hopes of finding him. But that was as far as you got. You hadn’t really planned anything after getting thinking you never would have made it this far, but you had Peggy with you and she wouldn’t let you quit until you tried everything.

“You shouldn’t be wearing your ring.” She looked at the had you had on the steering wheel. You had forgotten about it until she said something. You took it off and put it on your other hand. “It still looks like an engagement ring.”

“Well, I don’t want to lose it.”

“You shouldn’t have said yes.”

“I know,” you sighed.

“And you shouldn’t have brought your ring to find the guy you were in love with in college.”

“I know,” you said again.

“What are you even looking to get out of this?” She asked.

“Honestly at this point, I have no clue.” You admitted. “I’m hoping that I will either not find him and know or find him and know.”

“So you have no plan, no idea where he is, and no idea what it is you're looking for?” She asked and you nod. “Great should be a fun trip.

You had dropped off your stuff at the hotel and went to a bar, partly to make a game plan and drink and partly because you were hoping that you might see a few familiar faces at your old hangout spot.

“So this is where you hung out before you met me.” Peggy took a long look at the bar as you parked the car. “You should be glad you met me this looks terrible.”

“It’s more fun on the inside besides, drinks are cheap but strong.” You got out of the car and walked into the bar. It hasn’t changed much the only thing that had changed was the faces and they all looked like they were too young to be in a bar. “Go grab us a booth and I’ll grab us some drinks.”

Peggy headed off to a bar in the corner and you walk up and see your old favorite bartender.

“Well, I don’t believe my eyes. Is that (Y/N)?” Clint looked shocked. “I haven’t seen you in years. Where have you been?”

“I went back home when my mom got sick and then just finished school there.” You told him.

“Well, it’s good to see you back this year for the annual get together.” He smiled.

“The what now?”

“Every year your old friend group gets together and just hangs out here, I mean I assumed they invited you.” Clint looked at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it, can I get two of the house special, please?” He nodded and got to work on your drink. While you waited for your drinks you wondered if they had tried reaching out to you the first two years or so. You had still been taking care of your mother at that time so it’s not like you could’ve come anyway. Clint hands you your drinks you thank him and make your way to Peggy.

“Thanks love.” Peggy took a drink and stared at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Apparently some of my old college buddies are getting together soon for their annual thing they do.”

“And?”

“They didn’t invite me.”

“Ok but you have a different phone number than you did in college, you are just barely getting up to date on social media. They might have tried but unless they have your email, you could be unreachable to them.” Peggy had a point, you hadn’t really considered those factors.

“CLINT!” You and Peggy looked at the door to see a group of the loudest people enter.

“That’s them.” You pointed to them.

“That’s them?” Peggy was shocked, to say the least, they were nothing like your friends back home were quiet and reserved, with the exception of Peggy sometimes. “You partied with those people? I would love to have known college you. Is he over there?”

“Who?”

“They guy, the one whose name you still haven’t told me.”

“Bucky and I don’t see him.” You stretched your neck to double check.

“Go say hi.”

“What?”

“Y/n go say hi or I will.”

“Peggy I haven’t seen them in 6 years. And they probably don’t want to see me anyway.” Peggy rolled her eyes at you and was about to open her mouth to say something smart.

“Y/n?” You heard your name from across the bar. “Oh my god, Steve it’s Y/n!”

“Who’s that?” Peggy whispered.

“That’s Natasha she was my roommate.” You said while smiling at her and giving her a half wave. To your surprise, she walked over and you can’t help but feel incredibly nervous. “Hi, Natasha.”

“Y/n hi oh my god, it’s so good to see you. I have been trying to find you on facebook recently.” She slid into the booth as if no time has passed and you're still the best of friends.

“Yeah she just recently got a facebook, I’ve been trying for years to get her to join but it didn’t happen until Tony convinced her,” Peggy said.

“Who’s Tony?” Nat asked.

“This guy we work with, his a friend.” You informed her.

“Well it’s really good to see you, you should come over and say hi to everyone!” Nat said.

“Yeah Y/n you should go over and say hi!” Peggy stared at you flipped her off, but you slid out of the booth and motioned for Peggy to follow.

“Guys look who I found!” Nat said to the group.

“Hey, guys,” You greeted everyone and they all said hi back. “This is my friend Peggy, Peggy this is Steve, Maria, Sam, and you’ve met Natasha.”

“Yeah we’re missing Bucky but he should be here soon,” Steve said.

“I hope he doesn’t bring Dot.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Who’s Dot?” Peggy asked for you.

“His fiancee.” They all said it mockingly in unison.

“I take it she’s not well liked.”

“She just a, how do I put this nicely?” Maria said.

“She’s a bitch.” Natasha finished.

“She’s a raging bitch,” Maria added.

“And you wouldn’t even know it at first because she's acting so sweet and then she tries to pit you and your friends against each other,” Maria said, as they were talking you took this time to discreetly slide your ring back on your left ring finger. No one seemed to notice except Peggy.

“But we tolerate her because she makes Bucky happy.” Steve did not look happy about this fact. “So what brings you back here?”

“I was just feeling nostalgic and wanted to see if I could find you guys.” You say Peggy was about to cut in with something else when Bucky walked up to the group hand in hand with a girl and you felt the group roll their eyes and groan.

“Hey, guys sorry I’m late Dot had to-,” He stopped talking as soon as he gets a glimpse of you. “Y/n?”

“In the flesh.” You smiled.

“Wow it’s been years,” he smiled at you and you are instantly transported back to the girl in college that was helplessly in love. You had almost forgotten the feeling.

“I’m Dot,” the girl standing next to Bucky extended her hand in a way that made you think she wanted you to kiss it.

“Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” It was times like these when you wished you could be more petty or just kind of mean in general.

“And I’m Peggy.” She made a point of copying Dot’s exact way of displaying her hand. Which made you laugh and Natasha leaned over to you.

“I like her.” She whispered.

“Charmed I’m sure,” Peggy said. And all Dot could do was smile.

“So did you go to college with Jamie too?” Dot asks. And you look at Bucky knowing how much he hated that nickname, but he only had the smallest twitch in his eye which was telling.

“Yeah Bucky and I actually-” You were interrupted by Bucky.

“We're really close friends but then she had to go back home for family stuff and we lost touch.” He said quickly.

“Oh, that’s a pity.” Dot did not sound empathetic at all. “I’ll be right back Jamie I have to go to the bathroom.” As soon as she was out of earshot everyone looked to you to see what you thought. You had a reputation for being the nicer one in the group.

“I thought you said she was nice when you first met her?” You asked Maria who laughed and shrugged.

“Maybe it’s because you are already hanging out with us,” Maria suggested.

“Hi, Bucky I’m Peggy.” She offered her hand in a more civilized manner this time and he took it.

“Hi, Peggy it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Y/n please be nice.”

“I am being nice!” You almost shout. You shut up as soon as you saw Dot coming back from the bathroom.

“It was too gross to use.” She says wrapping her arm around Bucky’s.

“Y/n what the hell is that on your finger?” Sam practically yelled.

“Oh, I’m engaged.” And for the first time ever you were glad you were.