#and so unresponsive to such a big one from el

[love-byers]

mike when will remembers him despite his amnesia ^

mike when he thinks will made him a painting ^

mike when will says he won't find a new party ^

mike when will makes a little joke about them saving the world together ^

mike when will agrees to be his best friend again

mike when el says she loves him ^

[kuroneko1815]

Shatter me with a kiss or spare me my heart

Welcome to another instalment of El’s bedtime stories. This didn’t work and she proceeded to remain awake for another two or three hours. Anyway, this was based on the Descendants 3 song ‘one kiss’ that she sent me, so I guess kind of sleeping beauty. @eloise175 please go to sleep on time, or at least pretend to sleep after I send you a ficlet.

Penelope stared at Callisto, sleeping peacefully and deeply. Too deeply that it was unnerving. One would think he was dead. With the slow breaths he took, his pale countenance, and the slow beat of his heart. She was unused to such a quiet and still Prince. If anything, he was how she often wished him to be when he vexed her so.

‘Twas a curse from one of his enemies, they declared. Though she knew it was none other than his wretched, miserable, shrivelled up old stepmother who had long since chased away the emperor from her bed with her odious looks and personality that had caused this curse.

They all thought their relationship to be false and full of artifice, as though they had only put on a show. But she knew her feelings ran deep, as the saying goes ‘the course of true love never did run smooth’ or something of the sort. And Penelope loved him, loved her handsome, valiant, gentle, magnificently irritating lover of a dragon prince to the very depths of her soul and more. She would kiss him awake if only she knew it would work. If only she had any certainty that he felt even the barest of feelings for her other than amusement and fondness.

If he felt even the tiniest bit the way she had, she would kiss him true and break this curse. For surely her love would be enough to fill up what love lacked from him? But she was afraid to find out, to know, that she was nothing more than a whim and a moment in his life.

Outside those doors she knew Sir Porter waited to see his liege awake. She could walk out and lie, say that it didn’t work and let him sleep on forevermore, let her live with the delusion that he loved her and all she needed to do was gather her courage.

Or she could kiss him now. She could shatter it all, her delusions and her heart and kiss him to put an end to this farce and walk away from him and everything that reminded her of him. Let some other woman try their chance at being his true love, let her kiss be what woke him, her love be what healed the man broken by war and death.

She tried to imagine living her life in that delusion, that uncertainty always looming over her, that what if? Even if she walked away, she would never move on unless she knew. A broken heart she may have after this, she decided as she leaned closer, but at least she would have closure. Let this be the last then. “I love you, Callisto Regulus.” She said as she gathered what love she had in her for him, this insurmountably vast ocean whose depths were untold, fathoms and leagues unmeasured and unexplored, and put it all into one gentle kiss as she let what sadness linger in her eyes and heart, let a tear or two fall as she pulled away from her unresponsive prince.

So that was it then. She straightened herself. “Goodbye.”

And just as she’d walked two steps, a hand reached out and pulled her back, down she fell on to the bed and onto his chest, stunned and dazed as she looked at those piercing red eyes of the man who held her tenderly.

“And where were you to go, Princess?” He asked, voice hoarse from sleep and disuse. It had taken days for her to get the message and rush to his side after all. “I’d not given you permission to leave.”

“Your highness! You’re awake!” She cried happily, arms lacing around his neck. It mattered not that he couldn’t say it. Not yet at least. For she at least knew what he felt for her with the breaking of the curse.

Seriously though, if you have any idea how many plot bunnies, WIPs, and half finished chapters, stories, or instalments I have, you’d understand why I haven’t posted anything big recently. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Stay healthy and safe everyone.

[annab-nana]

eddie with [ BRUSH ] for one muse to run their fingers through the other’s hair while they open up or cry. pls

oh this one will hurt my heart

warnings: not proofread, billy mentions, reader opens up to eddie about all the upside down stuff

❀ masterlist ❀

you stared blankly ahead while eddie held you to his chest. he didn't know what happened. all he knew was that he saw you when he drove by the mall, crying in robin's arms. 

it was about two hours ago when eddie drove up and you moved to the comfort of his arms. he looked to steve and robin for some sort of answer, but the pair just shrugged. it was about an hour and a half ago that you two made it to eddie's trailer and he led you to his room so you could lay with him and he could hold you like you both wanted. ninety minutes of the silence, the staring, the support of his hold. 

he wanted to do something more to help. he really wanted to know what happened to make you act like this. you were normally more affectionate, more talkative, and more present than you were currently. 

you knew he was chomping at the bit to find out why you were so stoic and unresponsive. you knew you needed to tell him. it wasn't fair to him to hide it all. but, you didn't want to relive it. but, you had to for him. 

"there's a lot that i, um, haven't told you before," you spoke in a shaky voice. your words definitely scared eddie, but the way you were acting scared him more. 

"it's okay. whatever it is, i'm here to listen if you want to share. if not, that's okay too."

you took a deep breath before starting with the day it began back in november 1983. how you offered to help jonathan find will and how just that small act of kindness you put forth for a friend brought you nearly two years of hell up to today.

"and i know billy wasn't a good person. i know that, but watching him die, sacrificing himself for el-" you stopped yourself when your throat felt gummy, but eddie's fingers running through your hair grounded you and brought you the comfort to go on. "he didn't deserve to die like that, you know?"

billy had never been the kindest to eddie, but he had to agree. no one deserved to go out like that, not even billy hargrove. "yeah," eddie spoke gently, continually petting your hair. 

you moved up to press your face into the crook of his neck and mumbled lowly, "i'm sorry."

"woah, what for? you haven't done anything wrong," eddie asked incredulously while pulling you from your hiding place. 

"i've lied to you for a long time, eds."

"yeah, but for good reason and you're telling me now. that's all that matters. i'm not upset with you over it. you're okay now, okay?" his earnest nature and big brown eyes had you a puddle in his presence and you melted into him, crumbling back into his embrace. 

"i love you, eddie. please never leave me." his heart hurt at your words, but he wrapped his arms tightly around to show you how he was here to stay. 

"i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. i'm all yours."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new!

[runninguplenorahills]

Part 2 of me commenting on mister mustard fanpage’s instagram posts:

[part 1]

THEY’RE PISSED AT EACH OTHER!!! They are literally not talking to each other in this scene! This is not cute couple’s behavior and it is not “oh they’re so in sync!” NO! They radiate the same energy in this scene because they’re mad at each other!! Of course they make these faces in this scene because they’re irritated by Murray but they simply wouldn’t even have been so irritated if it wasn’t for what happened at rink-o-mania!!!

You mean ”they’re chemistry is at rock bottom”. Also, Mike being happy that El is safe isn’t something you can analyze in regards of their chemistry!!! Chemistry between two characters is defined by how they interact with one another and not by how they react to different situations that they’re involved in!!! Being happy that someone you’re close to is finally mostly safe again after being in danger for a significant amount of time also isn’t inherently romantic! I would be as happy as Mike if I reunited with someone I love and deeply care about platonically. And oh look! That’s exactly what Mike did!!

The thing is, Hopper never actually hated Mike and you can clearly see that in s1 and s2. While he undoubtedly found Mike annoying, it wasn’t the only impression he had of him! And in s3 Hopper was just being overprotective of his daughter and had real concerns about her relationship with Mike! Yeah of course Hopper jokingly said that he wanted to kill Mike but he was just really riled up about him at the time! It was more of an impulsive short-lived anger towards Mike than actual fundamental despise, so them having their little bonding moment at the end of s4 wasn’t actually that groundbreaking if you think about it. There also hasn’t been any real development yet so I’m not sure what this person means by “their development really hits you […]”. Mike actually became a constant in Hoppers life the minute Hopper involved himself in the case of Will’s disappearance and this was before any of them even knew El! And even while Mike is a constant in Hopper’s life, he isn’t actually a part of his family. Yet! Because Jopper and Byler are endgame and that will undoubtedly make Mike a big part of Hopper’s life!!

The first seven words really made me feel seen, thank you.

But also, that first picture is seconds before the melvin kiss where Mike is unresponsively standing there as if paralyzed with his deer-in-the-headlights-look and cement block of a gay realization!!! And the second picture is Mike in his shitty knock off shirt so basically he was being absolutely fake!! Even if he looked in love in this scene, it wouldn’t have been genuine!

Nobody says he doesn’t love her! He just simply doesn’t love her romantically! Also, El is not a “thing” and I honestly think melvin’s don’t seem to have grasped that “you’re the most important thing to me in the world” was Mike’s pathetic attempt at getting El to forgive him without an apology. I am not saying that she isn’t important to him because she is! But that scene was basically Mike trying to get around actually apologizing to her. He didn’t have any bad intentions here but it’s clear that he thought telling El that it’s all Hopper’s fault would solve all their problems and after that didn’t actually work out, he just pulled something out of his ass. Which didn’t work either because El is not stupid!!! The second piece of dialog is Mike trying to distract from their relationship issues and the problem at hand: the fact that he doesn’t love her romantically! He’s also kinda trying to comfort her which doesn’t even work because Mike and El aren’t on the same page at all!! “He doesn’t have to say ‘I love you […]” Well, clearly he does because El feels so insecure and unloved in their relationship that she desperately seeks verbal confirmation! “Whoever watches the show and doesn’t see the immense love he feels for her has to be blind” -> that’s a bit rich coming from someone who doesn’t see and constantly tries to invalidate the immense love Mike feels for Will!!!

And uhhm…..yeah, that last sentence of the caption really didn’t age well hahahaha

This caption refers to the scene where El gets harassed at rink-o-mania and the post contained pictures of Mike trying to get through to her. While the first sentence is relatable to a certain degree, the second sentence is absolutely not what happened at all!! Yes, Mike was worried and tried to help but if he wanted to comfort her so badly, why didn’t he? Mike was a major jerk to her afterwards! He didn’t try to do anything to make her feel better about the incident! Mike has never been shown to genuinely comfort El ever so “as he always does” is complete bullshit as well!!

Well, actually,,, Lucas is the one talking and making fun of Mike in this scene. Mike is completely confused and the only thing he actually says is “shut up” which clearly shows that Luca’s accusation made him uncomfortable. So Mike didn’t say “the words” at all and mildew’s “promise to love each other forever” being inevitable couldn’t be further from the truth because as of right now Mike can’t even say it!!!! Let alone promise it! “S5 I’m looking at you I need this to come true”……. I think I need to throw up…….like, what the actual fuck is it with milkshakes and their obsession with marriage?!?!?!?

“A lot of people generally do have a very difficult time opening up that word so effortlessly […] especially [for the] first time” The already problematic thing here is that this shouldn’t be Mike’s first time telling El that he loves her!!! They’ve been dating for a little bit over a year in total now so Mike should have said it to her already!! But he hasn’t! And he has also never written it before! Writing something down is easier than saying it to someone’s face but he hasn’t done that either! Because Mike doesn’t simply struggle to tell her. He straight up refuses to do it!

“[The first I love you] is like a big hurdle you need to jump over but once you say that word it becomes so effortlessly that you just can’t stop saying it.” The first time telling someone that you love them shouldn’t feel like a huge hurdle you need to jump over! And stating that saying it once makes every time afterwards effortless is just not true!! If you struggle at the first “I love you” you will struggle with every following “I love you” as well because wether it is the first time or the hundredth time, the meaning and implications don’t change! When you tell someone multiple times that you love them, you’re expressing the exact same feeling over and over again! The meaning doesn’t change and therefore your level of struggling to say it shouldn’t change either!!! And if you genuinely mean it, you shouldn’t struggle in the first place.

“But just the words in his mouth being brought into context really stresses the poor guy out. […] and I love that it’s being taken seriously rather than him just saying it like it has no severe meaning behind it, which it definitely does!” Yeah, my dear mildew, that’s exactly the point! It has a severe meaning and implication behind it and that’s EXACTLY why Mike doesn’t say it to El!! Being pushed to say the words stresses him out because he knows damn well what telling her that he loves her would mean and imply and he doesn’t want that! Because he simply doesn’t feel that way for her! Telling El that he loves her like that would be a straight up lie and he really doesn’t want to lie to her! Him saying it like it has no meaning is exactly what he does during his monologue though!! Mike separates the implication from the words itself and that’s why he finally says it and so many times too!!! Because the words are empty!

“He’s incredibly relatable to an individual who is first experiencing love and by how scary it fucking is.” That’s true but in a completely different context!! Mike is extremely relatable to queer people because being queer and realizing that you’re in love for the first time is actually scary!!

And I’m no mental health professional but finding it relatable that someone has a mental block that impedes them to tell their partner that they love them even though they really do love them [from mildew’s perspective] doesn’t seem healthy.

��…….who’s gonna tell them?

[assortedfruitsnacks212]

Gratitude - A Hopper and Billy Ficlet

When Hopper opens the door to the hospital room, the first thing that greets him is the rhythmic beeping of a machine. Beep. Beep. Beep. He swallows, stomach churning, and lets his gaze land on the bed.

At first he sees a bald child. Eyes closed, oxygen tube in her mouth. Then time shakes into place like kaleidoscope fragments, and a young man appears in the bed instead. His eyes are closed too, and an oxygen tube is in his mouth, but a full mane of curls tumbles down from his crown.

Hopper takes a shuddering breath.

"Chief Hopper?" says the nurse behind him.

Blinking, he mumbles an apology and steps into the room. As they approach the bed, he takes off his hat and grips it in sweaty palms.

The boy sleeps calmly, his chest rising and falling with mechanical precision. His hair is tangled, his eyes bruised. The scab on his cheek and bandages on his arm speak to the abuses he's suffered. On the right side of his hospital gown, a raised outline hints at an even larger bandage on his ribcage. But that's not the final blow. No, that distinction belongs to the restraints around his wrists, subtle in their cruelty.

Hopper's heart twists in pain, but he says nothing.

"He came out of quarantine yesterday," the nurse explains gently. "His vitals are steady, but so far he's been unresponsive. We performed the doll's eye test this morning. The results were reassuring."

"Doll's eye test?" Hopper turns to the nurse.

"Testing brain stem function. When we turn his head, his eyes move in the opposite direction. It tells us he's not brain dead."

Hopper nods, pretending to understand. The kid keeps breathing, unaware of their conversation. Unaware of anything.

"It's amazing how he crawled back from the brink," the nurse marvels. "I've never seen a young man so determined to survive."

"Yeah. Me neither," Hopper replies. A sudden lump in his throat takes him by surprise.

When he stays silent, the nurse smiles knowingly. "I'll leave you with him."

She exits the room, shutting the door.

A wave of emotion crashes over Hopper. He looks at the ceiling, choking it back. Once the wave has passed and it feels safe to move, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and sits. Resting his elbows on his knees, he turns his hat in his hands.

He looks at the bed. This time the kaleidoscope fragments get stuck, and he sees the girl and boy together. One small, one big. One with a bald head, the other with tangled curls. Both with that vile oxygen tube snaking out of their mouths.

He ducks his head, taking deep breaths. Soon he clears his throat and shoves thoughts of the girl behind him.

He came here for the boy.

“Hey, Billy,” he says quietly. “It's, um… Hopper. Chief Jim Hopper. El is my daughter.” He lifts a hand to rub his mouth. “She tells me you saved her life. And... I wanted to come by and say…”

His throat closes up. Tears spring to his eyes.

“...I wanted to say thank you. She's my world, you know? She means everything to me. If I lost her--” he shakes his head “--I don't know what I would do. So you saved my life, too, that night. I'll never be able to pay you back. Ever. But… I wanna try.”

He gazes steadily at Billy. The machine keeps beeping, and the boy keeps breathing, not knowing there's a man beside him throwing out a lifeline.

"So hang in there, kid," Hopper murmurs. "Let me try."

[listentothelittlebird]

TW: dissociative episode

This was a whole scrapped oneshot, mostly because I couldn’t fit it in properly... I misread something on a wikipedia page and somehow ended up with “Jason revisited Ethiopia sometime during the Red Hood and the Outlaws, and had major PTSD”. I’m fairly sure I was sleep deprived at the time... (I’m honestly happy with how this one turned out, but it was just out-of-place with the rest of the other oneshots)

This is a “deleted scene” from my series on ao3, Code Bat! 

It was a quiet, peaceful night, until the comms crackled to life.

“N,” Oracle called, “RH entered Gotham an hour ago. The new Super he befriended brought him in, but he hasn’t moved from his location since. Can you go check on him?”

Nightwing frowned. Jason was in town? 

He was happy to have a chance to see his Little Wing, of course, but this was an unplanned visit. Usually he would at least radio in ahead, and dramatically announce his return by searching for them during patrol time.

Something was wrong.

“R and I are still dealing with the drug ring,” Batman grunted, “We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

It seemed even the Bat himself was getting worried.

“I’m turning in for the night. BG’s headed towards RH right now. Let me know how he is, alright?” Spoiler paused, before adding, “I can pull an extra patrol or two, if he needs you guys for company. I’m not an official fam’ member, but I’m more than ready to help.”

Nightwing would have hugged Spoiler if she was standing next to him.

Batgirl was already at the rooftop when Nightwing arrived. She was crouched directly in front of Jason - in his Red Hood outfit, skull-like helmet still on his head - and staring. Nightwing had learnt to read Cass’ body language, and right now she was practically screaming concern. She straightened when Nightwing touched down.

“Unresponsive,” she signed, “Alive, but not there. Like the victims we saw last week.”

Nightwing sighed, a rush of air escaping his chest. It was relief mixed in with new pain, because something had happened to his brother for him to shut down. Something had triggered this.

“RH is dissociating,” Nightwing reported to the comms, “BG says he’s unresponsive. B, once you and R are done, get the Batmobile here.”

“We’re on our way,” came Robin’s tight response, crisp and serious but betraying the slightest of quivers.

In the meantime, Nightwing busied himself with removing Jason’s helmet. His face was blank, devoid of his usual snarky grin or unimpressed eye-roll. His chest was rising and falling in slow, mechanical breaths.

“We’ll take care of you, Little Wing,” Nightwing laid a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder, smiling warmly, “Take all the time you need, okay? We’ll be here.”

There was not so much as a twitch to acknowledge his words. Dick’s gut clenched tighter, even having expected the lack of response.

Batgirl had drifted away, standing several steps back. At Nightwing’s questioning glance, she murmured haltingly, “Scary.” She raised her hands to elaborate.

“No body messages. Nothing. Cannot tell what he is thinking, or if he is thinking. I’m scared for him. With other victims, it’s bad. With family...” the next motion was not proper sign language - she made a heart with her hands, then split it. 

It hurt to see family like this.

Nightwing gave a sad, quiet smile in response, and the way he turned back to eye Jason was enough to convey his agreement.

-

Jason came back to himself slowly.

He was never truly gone, not quite. Not for a while, he thinks. 

He’s… not sure about much. Just that he had been able to tell Artemis and Bizarro that he was going to pull a few strings in Gotham to get them a permanent base. 

He remembered fumbling out an address for a safe house that he had, which would be able to last his two teammates for more than a week. He remembered Biz dropping him off in Gotham. He remembered sitting down on the filthy rooftop.

He thinks Batgirl came, then Nightwing. He thinks they helped him into the Batmobile, and he thinks he saw Batman and Robin. 

He… can’t quite recall what happened next. It was like his memories were grinded to a pulp and then drained of substance, leaving behind the crusts of barely-coherent scenes. Flashes of what had happened.

He was in the Batcave, then he was being walked up the stairs to the Manor, one large arm wrapped around his shoulders, one large hand gripping firmly onto his elbow. 

There was the rustling of old paperbacks, distant and distorted, like hearing through water. 

There was Bruce, blue eyes focused on him, gazing at him and murmuring something soft.

“...here for you. You’re safe, Jaylad.”

He felt a sliver of pressure on his face.

Jason blinked. His hand rose to the spot, to where the mildest of pressures were, a calloused hand cupped against his cheek. He blinked two, three times, Bruce’s face morphing into the most genuine of smiles, even as the smell of the library and faint tightness of hunger greeted him.

“B?” Jason croaked, his voice hoarse from something more than dryness. Bruce was still quick to supply him a cup of water. The hand had yet to leave his cheek. Jason, still thrown off and trying to piece together his scattered mind, leaned into the hand even as he downed the glass.

There was a reason his throat felt scratchy. He had been screaming. Screaming at…

By the time Bruce had plucked his empty glass from his hand and set it down, Jason had jolted violently, as the realisation of how he got here, on exactly why he had returned back to Gotham, hit him like a train.

Ethiopia. The rebuilt warehouse. The living nightmare of his latest Outlaws mission.

“B?” Jason’s voice was desperate now. Logically, he knew Bruce was right there. Trying to convince his tortured mind though, as it finally came to terms with what had happened, was not as simple. 

“Dad? Dad…” Jason’s hands reached blindly for Bruce’s arms, scrambling to tighten clenched fists into the fabric of the man’s sweater. Bruce pulled Jason into his chest.

While Jason tried and failed to quell his breakdown, Bruce had maneuvered himself back onto the couch, Jason sat half in his lap and half on the couch. Jason’s arms, tight around his father’s shoulders, loosened as he let out a shaky gasp.

“We - we had a mission,” Jason rambled before he could stop himself, “Artemis was looking for something, and we were helping her look, and-“

“Jay,” Bruce cut in gently, “Don’t force yourself. Please, son.”

Jason, his forehead pressed to Bruce’s shoulder, shook his head even as he barreled on. He had to get this out before his walls went up again, before it became too blissfully peaceful to even broach the subject.

“I- fuck. We went to Ethiopia,” Jason gave a hollow laugh, even as Bruce sucked in a sharp breath of air, “It was fucking hell, B. Pretty sure they were just doing the generic torture shit on me, but they didn’t even need to do anything, really. The location was enough to…to-“ Jason’s voice cracked. There was something wet leaking out of his eyes.

“It looked exactly the same, B. I checked after - it was the same place. It was-“ Jason’s voice gave out for real, then. 

Bruce pulled him tighter, holding his son close as he cried himself dry. Bruce was just glad that Jason had been able to come back to Gotham, that his son was here for him to comfort - was willing to accept that comfort from him still, even after everything that had happened.

“You’re here,” Bruce hushes, when Jason’s sobs had died down to sniffles. He gave the boy - he would forever be a boy in his eyes - a squeeze around his broad shoulders. “You’re here.”

Jason sniffed again, and squeezed back, tight and desperate.

Later, Alfred would enter, guided by his butler senses to bring a meal for Jason. Later, his siblings would check in on him, and Dick would pile everyone into the living room with a movie marathon and a sleepover. Later, Jason would figure out a permanent base of operations for the Outlaws.

For now, it was just a father holding his son, both undeniably grateful to be alive.

-

Jason led Biz and Artemis to an underground bunker at the outskirts of Metropolis. They were right under Superman’s nose, which was both exhilarating and concerning.

He did not fancy meeting any one of Bruce’s colleagues. 

On the other hand, if Superman did stumble upon them someday soon, Bizarro would finally get to meet someone like him. Well, someone who might see him as family, at least. Jason had heard from Tim that Superman was a big-hearted family man that had taken in Kon-El the moment he had trusted the clone.

He hoped Superman would take Bizarro in. The big guy deserved someone else besides him and Artemis.

Speaking of…

“Say, since we’re gonna be working with each other a lot more from now on, can I get insurance that you won’t take a swing at Wonder Woman while I’m in the collateral damage zone?” 

Artemis glared at him, but Jason had weathered Bat-glares, and this was nothing compared to the man. His helmet was off, so she could see his smirk, his red domino stretching as he raised an eyebrow. 

“I’d have thought you’d be on better terms with the lady. I mean, she’d gladly offer you any support you need,” Jason pointed out.

Artemis huffed, “Themyscira should have done more to aid my tribe. They still have yet to do more to aid my tribe. As Diana is a representative of her people, my grudge is against her tribe, and not her personally. Truthfully, Diana saved my life, and I am grateful for that.”

Jason hummed contemplatively. “Well, you should be a bridge between the two tribes,” Jason thought aloud, “Just saying, you basically became your tribe’s champion by getting back the Bow of Ra. If anyone could get them more aid, it’d be you.”

He could tell that the Amazonian needed time to think on his words, so instead of continuing. Jason splayed his arms, “Besides, sweet-talking gets you places!” 

It was implied that such was how he had gotten their base, but the circumstances were probably far from what Artemis assumed. All Jason had needed to do was talk over conversations during dinner and Bruce was showing him possible locations even before patrol rotations had begun.

Artemis latched onto the new topic, regarding their new base with a satisfied tilt to her head, “What were those connections that you managed to find? Gotham is one place in Man’s World that I have yet to understand.”

“Eh, you learn to deal with the city’s fuckery. Like I said, I just had some old strings that I could pull to get us here,” Jason shrugged, and paused for a moment. Everything had been moving a mile and minute, from when Jason had first met Artemis to when they and Bizarro became a team.

He had neglected to tell them his name. Not that Bizarro needed his name, since he even called Artemis Red Her, but Artemis herself had always referred to Jason as Red Hood or Red.

“Jay.” 

At Artemis’ questioning glance, Jason huffed, “It’s my name, I guess. Close enough.”

It was the name the Titans, Roy and Kori, knew him by. Artemis and Bizarro were shaping up to be his second round of Outlaws, and he wanted them to have his trust, too.

There was a weighty glint in Artemis’ eyes. “It is an honour to work with you, Jay,” she stated solemnly.

Jason cracked a grin, “Aw, c’mon, don’t go all mushy on me. Let’s go get Biz before he ransacks the whole pantry.”

He turned to head in Bizarro’s direction, his loud rummaging making Jason glad he had chosen to put them significantly low underground. Artemis trailed behind with a warm smile.

[screensirenfic]

Gasoline Chapter 10

“Sorry” was perhaps both the easiest and hardest word to say.

“I’m sorry I was late today” Easy, Simple. Barely even worth saying.

“I’m sorry I failed my finals.” Harder, but still forgivable with time and effort.

“I’m sorry; I’m breaking up with you.”

Harder; much harder, especially when the person you’re breaking up with is your best friend of five years.

When I heard that knock on the cabin door; my stomach began to have butterflies, but not the good kind I’d wanted when me and Steve started this whole thing.

I’d been dreading this moment; a big part of me wondering whether I should’ve cancelled and just done this over the phone, but I stopped myself.

That was cowardly, and I couldn’t do that to Steve, not after everything he’d done for me.

“Lola; door!!” Dad yelled from the kitchen, stuck in the middle of scraping a burnt omelette into the trash, because dad was not a good cook, and the resident head chef had other plans for tonight.

“Don’t worry; I got it!” I yelled from the bathroom, putting in my last hoop earring, before making my way to the front door.

Dad was currently searching for pizza menus, frying pan and all attempts of a home cooked meal left abandoned in the kitchen sink.

The sight was kinda hilarious, but did little to ease my frayed nerves, even after I took a deep breath, settling myself to unlatch the door.

I opened it, and there was no surprises on who was waiting on the other side; a suitably dapper looking Steve Harrington dressed in a clean cut shirt and jeans.

He’d been putting more effort in dressing for our dates of late; maybe under the misinformed opinion that if he dressed up a bit more, it might reignite that spark we’d experienced at the Snow Ball.

“Hey Lo; you look great!” He greeted me, dumb pretty boy smile on his face as he took in the far too casual ensemble of leather jacket and denim shorts, before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek.

“You do too.” I complimented, though it came across short as I unresponsively accepted the kiss; guilt already doing one hell of a trip in my mind.

He began to lead me back to the car, overeager smile staying put, only going further to prove that Steve really was oblivious, or maybe he just didn’t want to face the facts that something wasn’t right here.

“So, where do you wanna go tonight? Movies? Dinner? Arcade?” He asked; running through what would’ve been a typical date night; the same motions we’d been running through every weekend since we’d started going out, but never getting anywhere.

“Steve; I’m not sure it’s a good idea...” I began, beginning to try and let him down easy as he opened the passenger door for me, allowing me to duck inside; probably a good idea considering the circumstances.

He didn’t give me a chance to finish, already heading round to the drivers side and climbing in the seat; that same dopey enthusiasm not being dampened by my tone in the slightest.

“Well; we could always just head to my house. My parents aren’t in...” He suggested; wiggling his eyebrows in a joking fashion so I didn’t know whether to take his proposition seriously or not.

“Steve; I’m not sure...”

“Don’t worry about it. We can just figure it out on the way.” He interrupted, turning the engine over so it hummed to life with the sounds of You’re My Best Friend.

“Steve; listen to me!” I yelled, cutting through what I now knew was nervous jabbering; seems like Steve wasn’t as oblivious as I thought.

He shut up, but didn’t turn to face me; eyes fixed straight ahead with a slight look of apprehension, and maybe even dread on his face.

“This isn’t gonna work, Steve.” I stated; keeping my voice firm despite the pain wracking through my chest at the sight of his anxious expression.

“Well; if you want, we can take a rain check until next week-“ He excused in a state of denial; his soft desperation near heartbreaking.

“Steve; I’m not talking about the date...” I interrupted, pointing out the obvious that he was so clearly trying to avoid.

He sighed, closing his eyes and biting his lip as he stared down at his lap; fingers squeezing hard on the steering wheel as the hard truth of what was happening here broke through.

“I should’ve seen this coming...” He said; the admission sounding more resigned than bitter; as if this entire conversation hadn’t come as a surprise to him.

“I’m sorry; Steve.” I apologised, genuinely meaning it, because I never meant to hurt him this way.

He was my best friend, and I loved him, but I couldn’t go on pretending that this spark we had was anything more than just that; a spark.

“I really wanted for this to work, but I just can’t, Okay?!” I confessed, needing to be honest with him for once in my life.

Steve just sighed again, louder this time as he slumped forward, resting his head against the top of the steering wheel.

He let out a puff of air, lips making a trill noise like a horse; reminding me distinctly of a man with a migraine, as he began to accept the end of our romantic relationship.

“Just please don’t tell me you’re leaving me for Billy Hargrove?” He asked in what could’ve been a joke, if not for the bitterness in his voice.

Still; I couldn’t answer.

The truth so close to home that I knew there was nothing I could say to redeem myself.

Instead Steve glanced up, taking in my face wracked in a combination of guilt and pity.

I never wanted to hurt him; not ever, but I had.

He big brown eyes looked straight into my eyes and read the truth without a word from my lips.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” I continued to apologise; my voice soft and barely above a whisper, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, because I could see how much this was hurting; and my god, I didn’t want to be the reason for his pain.

He turned his gaze from me, staring out the windshield with a hand plastered over the bottom half of his face; the glisten of tears reflected in the dim moonlight.

He didn’t say anything; his expression suddenly hard to read as I found myself waiting on baited breath for his words; for some sort of absolution for the great wrong I’d done to my closest friend.

“Please; Steve. Just say something...” I asked; afraid of the oppressive silence between us, of the looming shadow of the end of more than just our relationship.

“Scream at me, or something...” I pleaded; my stomach tying itself in knots, because what if I’d ruined everything; what if he never wanted to speak to me again?

I’d really not thought of the true extent of the consequences of my actions; of how much really could be at stake for the sake of my lust and the blossomings of what could be teenage love, but I really had no way to know for sure-

“Why?”

His voice rang out like a shot in the dark, despite being muffled behind his hand.

“Just tell me why.”

There was a million and one ways I could answer that question; not all of them lies.

Because I was stupid was one; lonely was another.

Because Billy was beautiful, and brazen, and bold, and really wasn’t as bad a person as that night at the Byers would have you believe; but I went with the simplest one.

“Because I think I love him.” I admitted; the truth sounding uncertain in my mouth, because although I knew the feelings were true, it was hard to say the words out loud, almost as if the moment I said it, it would be real.

The words cut Steve like a knife.

I could tell by the way he winced as if he was experiencing real physical pain.

I didn’t want to hurt him, but it was the truth, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise; I couldn’t love Steve like I loved Billy.

“I’m sorry, Steve...” I apologised for the third time tonight; tears finally beginning to slip their way down my cheek, because I hated seeing him like this; so broken and sad.

Nancy had already left him because she loved someone else, and now I had too.

“I’m so, so sorry...”

“I think you should go.” Steve interrupted; his voice croaky and low as he still avoided looking at me, and somehow that cut more than anything else.

“Okay...” I nodded, already opening the door, because I knew if I said anything more, I’d just end up making things worse.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in class...” I continued, leaning in close to kiss him goodbye, before hesitating.

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this anymore; not after the conversation we just had, but some part of me couldn’t leave this on a sour note.

I filled the gap, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, hoping that somehow the gesture would prove that despite me choosing Billy over him, I still loved him.

Steve didn’t respond, just continued staring out of the windscreen as I climbed out of the car.

I took one last look at him outside of the car; my heart breaking at the way his head hung low like a weight was around his neck, how thin trails of tears trickled down flushed cheeks.

I wanted to get back in the car and kiss them away, but I knew I couldn’t.

It would be another lie to try and placate him with fake promises; that I could learn to love him, that what Billy and I had was purely chemical.

“Goodbye Steve.” I offered instead, wanting to say more, but knowing that there were no words that could fix this; only time.

He didn’t reply, and I gave up then, shutting the car door and walking back to my house.

By the time I found my keys and opened the front door, I knew Steve was already gone; the soft hum of his BMs engine disappearing into the night.

Previously he would’ve stayed to check I got in okay, even if my dad was in, but I’d clearly hurt him too much for that.

“El; do you want pepperoni or ham and pineapple-“ Dad asked as he emerged from his room, clearly mistaking my presence for the kids.

“Lo?” Dad crinkled his brows in confusion, having not expected me back for at least another few hours.

“What are you doing back so early?”

I didn’t answer, just rushed over to him and enveloped him in a tight hug.

He hesitated for a moment, before wrapping his arms around me; pizza menus and all, squeezing me tightly to his chest.

“Sweetie; what happened?” He asked, petting the top of my head, because I hardly ever went to my dad for comfort unless something went extremely wrong.

I said nothing, burying my face further into the soft cotton of my dad’s shirt as it soaked up my tears.

For once; I didn’t want my dad to listen to me, I just wanted him to stand there and hold me for a minute and remind me that everything was gonna be alright.

[elerosselavellan]

TAGGED  BY : stolen from @pcrseverance​ TAGGING :  Everybody! Do the thing!

—    BASICS.

▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ? Elerosse is 5′3″, so is pretty short compared to most other humans, and on the short side of average for elves.

▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ? He usually doesn’t mind it so much, but it often gets rolled up into all his other body issues about being weaker and smaller than other people he’s comparing himself to.

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ? El’s hair is very thick and near perfectly straight. It appears black and glossy in most lights, but does tend to pick up reddish/auburn highlights in direct sunlight. As of the start of the game he’s in the process of growing it out, but it’s in something of an awkward in-between stage. By the time he fights Corypheus, it’s almost to his shoulders, and it’s significantly longer by Trespasser.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ? While he’s not obsessive about it by any means, Elerosse does like to make sure his hair is clean and neat. It’s one of the few things he genuinely, consistently likes about himself, and that definitely comes across in how well he cares for it. Hair care is one of the few things he indulges in once he has the means, either as Inquisitor or as a companion with a more regular salary.

▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ? Appearance is a pretty big thing for Elerosse, both because of his own issues with self-image, but also knowing that as a leader figure (as a potential Keeper, and as Inquisitor) his presentation plays a huge role in how others perceive him. He worries a lot, especially early-on and doubly so after being named Inquisitor, about how his styling reflects on the Inquisition, but also not wanting to compromise the more traditional, Dalish styles he’s used to.

[More under the cut!]

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ?  outdoors ▸     RAIN    OR    SUNSHINE ?  sunshine ▸     FOREST    OR    BEACH ?  forest ▸     PRECIOUS    METALS    OR    GEMS ?   gems ▸     FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ?  flowers ▸     PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ?  personality ▸     BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?  in a crowd ▸     ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?  order ▸     PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR    WHITE    LIES ?  painful truths ▸     SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ?  magic ▸     PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?  peace ▸     NIGHT    OR    DAY ?  day ▸     DUSK    OR    DAWN ?  dawn ▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?  warmth ▸     MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?  close friends ▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?  Reading a book

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ? Above all else, Elerosse has a tendency to work himself into the ground and not ask for help until he’s dangerously close to his breaking point. He had an excellent support system with his clan, his keeper and his family nearby, but being on his own with the Inquisition really puts those bad habits into high-gear, and he’s definitely going to have to do some serious thinking about how he treats himself.

He fidgets near constantly, and if there is a loose thread or a peeling bit of paper, he will find it and he will toy with it. If it’s especially bad, and he has the presence of mind to use it, he has a small protection charm (against the Dread Wolf, of course) that he uses as a sort of fidget toy, running his fingers along the familiar grooves under a table instead of accidentally shredding his meeting notes.

That same anxiety often makes it difficult for him to sleep, and coupled with that same refusal to ask for help, makes it hard for him to request more traditional sleep-aids, instead turning to alcohol or what potions he can discretely make himself. Thus far it hasn’t become too much of an issue, but habits are starting to form.

▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM ? While she’s not actually dead, for all intents and purposes he considers his mother to be entirely out of his life and while I wouldn’t say it’s anything as dramatic as being “dead to him,” but they’ve been almost entirely estranged since Elerosse was about six.  It took him a very long time to really conceptualize why she left, that it (mostly) wasn’t because of him, and to let go of a lot of that lingering resentment that bled into his attitude towards city elves, and especially those who left Dalish clans by choice.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?   With his mother gone and his father often absent, Elerosse was raised primarily by his paternal uncle (and other clan members, but this isn’t really the place for Dalish parenting headcanons), the clan’s master craftsman. His workshop was always something of a safe-haven for El when he was feeling poorly or his studies with the Keeper were getting overwhelming, where he could go to vent without judgement. Some of his most cherished memories are either working with his uncle, or days just tucked off to the side of his shop, whittling to clear his mind, maybe talking about things, maybe not.

▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ? Alarmingly yes, though it’s definitely much easier the less it looks like an actual person--for example, the more mutated red templars, darkspawn or demons. It actually scares him a little, once he starts, how difficult it is to stop burning when the enemies in the immediate area are all downed. There’s a lot of pent-up rage that he, once again, hasn’t had the time or mental fortitude to deal with yet.

He has a lot more trouble with harming actual people. If they haven’t attacked him first, he’ll go out of his way to negotiate and try to reach some kind of agreement, though he finds that approach much, much more difficult with certain groups. He doesn’t like killing them, even then, for that same reason fear of what if he can’t stop himself, what if he goes too far?

▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ? Everything comes to a complete stop. The weight of everything pressing down on him and pulling him in so many different directions will drive him first to distracting himself, then trying to be numb to it, but when that inevitably fails, the panic attack will be debilitating. He’ll already be intentionally isolating, so who knows how long it’ll be before someone finds him, physically unable to move and oscillating between hysterics--sobbing, hyperventilating, even to the point of making himself sick--and being unresponsive as he tries to physically reign in any reaction.

▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ? In theory, yes. In practice, though, he’s absolutely going to sacrifice himself first, probably before someone could do that for him instead.

On the flip side, he trusts certain members of his clan to be able to put him down in the event of possession, one of those being his own father. It’s probably something he has a pretty long, in-depth conversation with Cullen about after a few months with the Inquisition, if he would be willing to do the same if such a thing were to happen, and what sort of checks they might have in place if that were to happen to the Inquisitor.

▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ? He. Gets. Clingy. Oh boy, does he want to be close at all times. If he manages to get past the silent-pining and crushing phase to an actual, for-real relationship, he wants to be with the person constantly. He’s already a very tactile person with his affections, so it’s just going to get even more pronounced. At the same time, it’s a very casual sort of touching and closeness, even just quietly holding hands or brushing shoulders, just to have some part of them touching.

[khorren]

ESO Adventures continued...

So it’s been about 6 months or so now since I picked up ESO as something to do in between GW2 content. Boything and I are still trucking along, we’ve learned a lot but there’s so much we’ve yet to touch.

I’ve recently taken up house decorating. It’s not much at the moment. I have a modest house in Deshaan with a hallway, two side rooms, two rooms upstairs, a basement, and a little courtyard big enough to house some animals and a small garden. So far all I’ve really done with it is put in my crafting stations and some lighting, and a bed upstairs.

Mostly use the boy’s house as our hub as he has banker and merchant NPCs which makes selling up easy. Also it’s right next to a town with other essentials. I like the decorating system a lot. There’s a lot of stuff you can make just from in-game things. There is of course premium RL currency stuff, but you can make a really nice go at decorating just from stuff you find, or can buy off the guild traders.

Sidenote: I still really really really really hate ESO’s trading system.

Most of our playing has been the equivalent of world completion. We’ve been doing all the objectives on a map, and this can be mini dungeons (delves), open dungeons, world bosses, quest hubs, or a main storyline. I have no idea what the storyline of ESO is. We make stuff up as we go along and make our own stories. It’s been pretty fun. We’ve got one major zone left to do, and my reward for doing so will be a chamber-pot to wear as a helmet. I’m pretty excited for that. But then we’ve got a few other bits to mop up. After that I’m not sure what we’ll do! We’ve dabbled in dungeons but instanced content has never really been our thing.

Last ESO post I made I was playing as a sorcerer (Ele, basically) but since then the latest expansion came out and I rolled as a Necromancer as seen above, and I’ve been doing everything on her for the most part. It’s been a fun little class.

It’s been a fun 6 or so months, but I find it difficult to get immersed in the world. I’m sure it’s really interesting to people who care about Elder Scrolls lore, but it really feels like getting dropped in 2/3 of the way through a book or movie.

My two biggest gripes continue to be: 1) Movement is clunky as fuuuuuck. Falling off ledges and stuff isn’t a gentle boop, fall down, even if inching forwards of a ledge, the game practically yeets you off. 2) De-aggroing things sucks so hard. Stuff will chase you for a long ass time and wont break aggro. The moment you turn around to go “FINE. I’LL KILL YOU THEN” the mob goes “teeheehee” and skitters off. Because of this you stay in aggro for way too goddamn long and mounting up again is impossible. Okay three things. 3) Combat can be pretty clunky and sometimes unresponsive. I don’t know if it’s a ping thing but it’s not something I experience on other games where I’m EU playing on/with NA, but it could well be.

I still like how they do fashion / transmuting things. You modify the slot, not the piece of gear itself. Though I’ve mostly been wearing an outfit I got a long-ass time ago because I’ve never really found anything else I like. Though the customisation system is still pretty sweet.

But yeah. It’s been a fun little frolic. There’s a lot to do.

[tinnefoil]

The power of POV

After writing this long response to why I find the way Mon-El acts in 3x07 a bit choppy it got me thinking on Point of View. Basically a big deal in television that sort of exists underneath just the events of the plot is the question of point of view. Whose point of view are we sharing, whose point of view does the story follow and which characters show up in that point of view but don't necessarily have their own. 

To me, in 3x07 Kara's emotional red thread throughout the episode is much clearer. 

- She arrives at the ship, does her typical hero stuff, doesn't count on Mon-El being there, is surprised and is shocked to see him. She embraces him because of course it's an emotional moment for her. 

- He is taken to the DEO and she is there by his side, being protective of him. She already seems a bit worried that he doesn't react the way she expects him to react, that he doesn't respond to her in kind. She (my interpretation) for now chalks this up to him being tired/messed up and so she stops him from talking and encourages him to get some sleep. 

- James and Kara watch a sleeping Mon-El. Kara admits that Mon-El has seemed different, more distant, but they are still looking for a rational explanation. Kara expresses some hopefulness about how things might develop. 

- Kara does her typical hero stuff and knocks Mon-El out. 

- Kara confronts Mon-El his cell. At this point she is freaking out. She goes from easy explanations (he is just tired, he has been through a lot), through more extreme scenarios to explain his behavior (it's not really you). She is freaking out because he does not behave like she expects him to behave, because he doesn't act like he is in love with her anymore, because he doesn't respond to her attempts to connect with him. She breaks down a bit and opens up how sucky things have been for her. When he doesn't respond she circles back to her season arc about wanting to get rid of her human heart and walks out.  

- Kara finds out that Mon-El has disappeared and follows him to the ship. Once more she confronts him, this time more angrily as opposed to tearfully like before. This time he responds and tells her something. Note that so far (my interpretation) Kara's basis for "you are different/you have changed" has been that he acts like he doesn't care for her. That's why she zeroes in on the necklace. Because that contradicts the impression he has been building up so far. 

In a lot of ways this serves as the climax of this particular thread. Over the episode, Kara's worry and unease build and build because he won't respond to her/won't confirm that there is something off about him. Here Kara's point of view is vindicated because Mon-El finally gives her some real information. 

- Now the story shifts to a new aspect. The why. Things go haywire. Kara frees Imra from the pod. Mon-El fusses over her, Kara looks worried. => Kara has established that yes, Mon-El is different, but what is the cause? He said it's because it's been 7 years, but is that enough of a cause? Or is Imra the real cause why Mon-El is so distant with her? 

- They return to the DEO, Mon-El reveals Imra's name, Kara looks worried some more and gets a small scene where she recaps to Alex what she has found out and gets some sympathy. 

- Kara then joins Mon-El on the balcony. I would argue structurally, this scene serves almost as Kara's "reward" (or as a taste of something, a bit calm before the storm, only to have it be snatched away). Mon-El apologizes to her. Mon-El assures her that their relationship was important to him. Mon-El tries to cheer her up. 

- And then *wham* cliffhanger and Kara reacts to it. 

The "flow" of Kara's emotions in this episode is consistent. They go from A to B to C. The episode is about Kara's concerns over how Mon-El is acting slowly starting to grow and then exploding in that scene where she confronts him. 

By comparison, I don't think that the episode really explained the contrast of Mon-El being really unresponsive to Kara in the prison cell scene and way, way, way cordial and friendly in the balcony scene. Even if you interpret this to be not because of Kara, but of Saturn, can you really say that from that point of view this is consistent writing? 

Note: The point here is not to say or imply that Mon-El is a meanie for trying to cheer up with Kara while Saturn's condition in unclear. The point here is that the writers did not prioritize giving Mon-El a consistent logical flow of emotion.  (presuming for now no wonky mind control stuff)

If the episode had been more about his point of view, then maybe the scene would have gone more like, okay, Mon-El tells Alex to keep him updated on Saturn's health. Mon-El goes to the balcony. Kara joins him and makes a comment along the lines of "wow, tough thing, it seems like you like her a lot". And then maybe Mon-El would have started babbling about guilt and KARA would have been the one to try to cheer him up and get him to laugh despite himself. 

Or maybe Kara would have asked about Imra and Mon-El would have stared into the void and then switched aprupty to humor to hammer it home to us, the audience, that this a coping mechanism. 

First, there’s nothing special about that, it happens all the time. Characters switch around who has the dominant point of view. If you remember, in season 2 it was one of the biggest complaints that Mon-El got point of view too frequently (I personally actually found them fairly balanced and actually liked that about them as a story).  

A good example of this is when Mon-El has feelings for Kara but the show does not tell us exactly whether Kara returns them. 

Or to give another example, Sanvers. 

Alex wrestles with her emotions. Alex confesses to Maggie. Maggie says she is not interested. Alex meets with Kara and gets A!!! BIG!!! ACTING!!!!! moment where she reacts to her heartbreak. 

A few episodes later Maggie confesses that she’s interested in Alex after all. 

We don’t see exactly why Maggie changed her mind. 

It’s not wrong or immoral to change your mind on somebody. 

It’s not even unrealistic that somebody would change their mind on dating somebody. 

The point is that we didn’t see it on screen. 

It wasn’t spelled out to us the way let’s say Mon-El falling for Kara was spelled out to us in every little detail, with all the steps in between. 

Here, Maggie took an action (rejecting Alex), Alex reacted to it. A few episodes later Maggie took a different action (telling Alex she misses her), but we don’t see the steps in between, we don’t see those moments where Maggie misses Alex. [and yes, I realize there was that scene in between where Maggie is upset that Alex is standoffish to her in a work context, but imo that scene was more about Alex getting a chance to tell Maggie off than it was to illustrate why Maggie misses Alex on a personal level] 

So, back to Mon-El. 

Why?

Now I would clearly say, because they want it to be a mystery. They let him act in a way that makes it not clear to us or Kara what is up. 

Or to produce maximum drama and ACTING!!! opportunity. 

Maybe there’s also an element of the writers wanting to compensate for the criticism of last season that the arc wasn’t clearly enough Kara focused. 

Or maybe the writer of the episode just felt that way. 

[fanofawesomethings]

Maybe Try Rollerblades

If you want a fanfic of your very own, message me and I’ll tell you my prices. It’ll probably longer than this.

The skate park always sounded like a beehive to Peridot. The plethora of wheels grinding against the pavement was the buzzing of the many bees that flocked to the enclosed park and it was enough to make her ears bleed. She couldn’t fathom the reason why she always went back there. Maybe it was the shade from the trees nearby that cooled her on such hot summer days during her summer school classes, or maybe it was the one skater among the rest.

 A tail of purple hair that always trailed behind her every step, a smile that would brighten the entire park, and a voice like someone gave a jazz player a shot of energy. Amethyst. Also known as Amy, Big A, Purple Puma, Org-Amy, The Hoodlum, and to her closest friends—Tumbled Rock. The love struck Peridot made it her duty to know all the nicknames her target of desire had. When Peridot spotted her amongst the crowd of skaters, some twice as large and muscled as the short, stout girl, she threw up her biology textbook to her half her face but keep her eyes unblocked to make it look like she was studying—but to be fair she was studying a prime specimen.

 Amethyst meanwhile skated like she always did. The kick flip was so ingrained in her routine it was practically instinct. Peridot always took note of it, scribbling her specialties in a little journal she kept hidden from the world. Amethyst skipped across the concrete park with some nollies that took her off the ground until she came to the halfpipe. El Pepe, the skaters there called the biggest halfpipe in the park; and anyone who skated it and survived got to put their mark on it. Of course Amethyst’s Purple Puma insignia was proudly sprayed on there.

 “Come on, Amy, show us the trick!” Carnelian, a shorter friend of Amethyst, shouted from below.

 “Geez, you guys sure do love that, don’t’cha?” Amethyst smirked as she climbed the ladder to reach the top of the halfpipe.

 “She can’t do it again. That first time was luck,” joked X-Jay.

 “Ten bucks says she does it again,” said X-Kay.

 Amethyst might as well have been alone because Peridot saw no one else beside her. Probably what attracted Peridot most was Amethyst’s confident personality and how she’d go out of her way to make everyone around her smile, it was something Peridot admired most of all. Also Amethyst’s rude lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets—as Peridot has heard—didn’t hurt Peridot’s attraction either.

 Amethyst reached the top of the halfpipe and looked out at her adoring audience below. She threw kisses at them with her fingertips as her board peeked over the edge. Peridot’s heart was throbbing, a nervous wreck. Amethyst pushed off and Peridot nearly jumped out of her seat. She rode down the enormous stretch and when the board began to ascend, Amethyst jumped off, spinning in the air like a sonic ball. Peridot closed her eyes. Amethyst timed her board to fall back down; she landed perfectly on it and kicked up speed to make it up to where she started. The crowds below erupted in a roar. Peridot, lost in the heat of the moment, clapped too.

 Amethyst waved to her audience, but out of the corner of her ear she heard Peridot clapping in the distance. She recognized the honor student from one of her classes.

 “Peri! Peri!” Amethyst waved, startling Peridot who didn’t realize what she was doing and what it resulted. “What’re you doin’ over there? Come here!”

 As if she was a cornered animal, Peridot stiffly and awkwardly walked to the skate park’s fences and then inside. Before she had time to wonder what was happening, Peridot was at the foot of the halfpipe, surrounded by Amethyst’s friends that towered over the green-haired shrimp.

 “You caught another one, Org-Amy?” X-Jay snickered.

 “She looks like a nerd,” said Carnelian.

 Peridot said was unresponsive, standing like a statue while the others observed her.

 “Come on guys, leave her alone.” Amethyst dropped down with a ground-shaking drop. “Sorry Peri, the FAM can get a little rowdy sometimes.”

 “N-No problemo,” Peridot finally responded.

 “So what brings you to this neck of the woods? You a skater?” Amethyst asked.

 “YES!” Peridot jumped without thinking about it.

 The FAM, as they were called, burst out laughing. Peridot felt insulted.

 “This shrimp—a skater? No way,” laughed X-Kay.

 The laughter grew lower despite Amethyst shushing them. Peridot grinded her teeth out of anger—anger that threw away reason and said something in the spur of the moment to prove them wrong.

 “Give me one of you cylinderboards and I’ll show you!” Peridot snarled like a vicious kitten.

“Cylinderboards?” Carnelian repeated in wonder.

 X-Jay handed her a free board and Peridot swiped it quick.

 She struggled to hold the board under her arm and climb up the ladder to reach the top of El Pepe. Peridot reached the top of the halfpipe and immediately felt her stomach drop into a pit. The ramp was so high Peridot swore she could see clouds beneath her, but she also saw Amethyst watching her. In that moment Peridot threw away everything holding her back and planted the board on the ground with her on top, with only a basic understanding of what a skateboard was to help her.

But the last thing Peridot remember was kicking off the halfpipe and then…nothing. The next moment she was waking up in a bed, white covers thrown on top of her and she was surrounded by a curtain. At the foot of her bed sat Amethyst reading one of her biology textbook, turning it upside down for some reason, and a purple cast around Peridot’s legs.

 “Wha—? Amethyst—?” Peridot stammered awake.

 “Hey Peri, good to see you’re alive,” said Amethyst.

 “What happened?” Peridot was still in a daze and had not yet comprehend she was alone with Amethyst for the first time ever.

 “You…sort of beefed it. The board slipped on an ice cube someone left on the pipe and you spilled hard.”

 “Right. So I suppose my legs are—” Peridot finally awoke and realized she was alone with Amethyst. Her cheeks burned red beneath her thick, round glasses.

 “You really gave me a shock, Peri, don’t do that again.” Amethyst looked sincere and worried. It was the first time Peridot had ever seen anything besides a brimming smile on Amethyst’s face. Her heart skipped a beat.

 “I-I’m sorry.”

 “Nah, don’t sweat it. But…I…um…I picked up your books when I came over here. I…found…”

 Hidden behind the biology book, what Amethyst was actually reading in secret, was Peridot’s little journal that contained everything little note she ever wrote about Amethyst. Peridot instantly crumbled and threw the covers over her head.

 “I am so sorry! Forgive me! GRAH! I’m such an idiot!” Peridot cried.

 “No, no, it’s cool. I actually liked it,” said Amethyst, trying to pull the covers off. The lump underneath the covers was still. “You…uh…got a lot of notes about me. I never had someone care about me so much. But why though?”

Maybe it was the rare gift of a moment or maybe it was Peridot’s lack of human traits in her personality that caused passion to overcome her in that moment. She erupted out of the covers like an explosion. “IT’S CAUSE I LIKE YOU!”

Only after saying it did Peridot’s ears and mind register what she said. Peridot’s cheeks went red and, unexpectedly, so did Amethyst’s. The two said nothing and they stayed petrified for what felt like an eternity. Outside of the hospital room, the FAM listened in and giggled.

[jurgenmeister-blog]

El Matador (Chapter 54)

Sergio's POV "My god Alexia I can't believe we've never done this before." I moaned in pleasure. "You never asked." She teased me, I could sense a smirk on her face. "You never offered." I replied. "I didn't know you wanted to." I added. Her hands were magic, reaching all the right places. After hearing about my rough day at training and seeing me walk in a little bit of pain, Alexia offered to give me a massage. Let me just say, when Alexia offers, she goes all out. "Anything to make my boy feel better." She happily said, digging in more in between my shoulder blades. "Fuck that hurts so good." I half laughed, half groaned in pain. "You'll feel better in the morning though." Alexia replied above me. "And you'll smell like lavender." She whispered in my ear before kissing my neck. "I'm sure the boys will love that." I teased as she continued rubbing my back. To be honest I didn't mind the lavender lotion Alexia was using. I liked to be pampered from time to time, especially by her. "Oh hush, just enjoy this." Alexia giggled as her hands moved to my shoulders, tightly squeezing and massaging. "Oh I am." I smiled lazily as she moved one hand up to play with my hair. "Fuck babe you're spoiling me." I looked up at her happily. "Well it was a tough day for you. My big guy needs to be taken care of." She replied, leaning down to kiss my forehead. As tough and masculine as I could be at times, I always loved getting all of Alexia's attention like this. She had a way of giving me this gentle treatment when we were together sometimes. I exhaled deeply as Alexia moved to massage my lower back. "Babe I love your tattoos." Alexia said softly as she continued to work out the knots in my muscles. "Thanks, I think I'm gonna get more." I mentioned before yawning slightly. "Why? You have beautiful skin." Alexia questioned, not sounding disappointed, just curious. "Because they're all very important to me. Things I love, my family." I responded and Alexia seemed okay with that answer. "Kids names and birth dates too when I finally have my own." I added, smiling. "I think you'd make a great dad." Alexia said sweetly as she moved her hands up my back and down again. I didn't have the courage to tell her she'd be a great mother to my children. I didn't want to scare her, we were still a very new couple. "They'd have cute little freckles like you." Alexia whispered as she kissed my shoulder. She gestured for me to roll over, so I complied. Happily she moved to sit in my lap. "You think the freckles are cute?" I asked smiling up at her, running my hand along her side. "They're adorable and you only notice them if you get close." She softly spoke, leaning down before kissing my nose. "They're more prominent in the summer. You'll see." I responded, moving to peck her lips. Soon she moved to deepen my innocent kiss. I brushed a little hair from her face, caressing her cheek as our lips locked. Alexia smiles softly and sat back up. Her expression changed to a frown as she looked at me. "Babe it's starting to bruise." She gestured to where Xabi had punched me earlier. "Is it bad? Or do I look tough?" I teased her with a smile. "Like Rocky." She grinned back. "He got you pretty good. It's bruising all under your eye." She added, studying it. "Maybe it'll get me a little pity tomorrow at work." I teased her. "At least he didn't split your lip." Alexia raised and eyebrow and leaned down. "Yeah that would have been a shame. It's not fair to keep you waiting on a nice kiss." I flirted back as I rubbed her side. "You think quite highly of yourself don't you?" She teased and leaned closer. I hummed with a smile and wrapped my arms around her middle, pressing my lips to hers. "I love you." I mumbled against her lips as I tightened my grip around her. Alexia pulled away slightly and caressed my face gently. "I love you too, handsome." She whispered and smiled. "You're sleeping over right?" I asked, hoping she'd say yes. It had been a couple days since we shared a bed and I wanted her in my arms. "I am, but I need to go home and get some clothes first." Alexia replied, checking the time on her phone. "I should go do that." She added, moving to get off of me. "Just wear my clothes, you love how they smell." I offered, pulling her back to me. "Don't leave me." I pouted, using a baby voice. "Baby I need clothes to wear out tomorrow, I can't be showing up to training in joggers and a shirt that are both two sizes too big for me." Alexia laughed a little, thinking my suggestion was silly. "Why not? Everyone knows we're together now, it's no secret." I tried but she was having none of it. "Just because everyone knows doesn't mean I can look unprofessional now." Alexia sensibly answered. I sighed heavily, gently rubbing her back. "Hurry back, okay? Don't take too long, I wanna cuddle." I said, releasing her so she could get up. Alexia pecked my lips after slipping her shoes on. "I'll be back in an hour, hour fifteen tops. I love you." She said before heading downstairs and leaving me alone. I felt my nerves creeping up on me, more than usual if I missed a dosage of my medication so I calmly headed to the bathroom. My hand shaking as I fished around the medicine cabinet. *** Alexia's POV: With a smile on my face I happily packed an overnight bag for Sergio's house. Usually I had clothes there but I hadn't gotten a chance to wash those. I searched around my room for some lingerie to wear. I was going to give Sergio a happy ending to his massage, but he seemed more intent on cuddling me. I figured this would help focus his attention. I shuffled over to the bathroom to grab a little bit of make up, a toothbrush, and my hair brush. I tossed all the toiletries I'd need into a small bag and added it to the backpack I was bringing for the night. I sighed happily as I pulled the straps on and left my room, turning the light out as I did. I grabbed my keys and phone off the kitchen counter and saw I had four texts and two calls from Sergio. "I've only been gone an hour babe." I said to the empty apartment as I unlocked my phone. The text messages made my heart race: "Babe, I'm feeling really anxious can you just come back?" "Please, we'll figure out your clothes tomorrow." "I really need you." "Ali, please pick up the phone." I could hear my pulse in my ears as I frantically dialed his phone. "Alexia?" Sergio asked in a very shaky voice. "Baby, I got your texts what's wrong?" I inquired as I grabbed my keys and hurried out. "I feel a panic attack coming, I'm trying to c-calm d-down but I, I just c-can't. Please I really n-need you Ali. I don't want to do this by myself." He explained and I could hear his voice break as he choked out the last sentence. "I'm on my way, 10 minutes, 5 if I get all the lights." I hurried down the stairs, no time to wait for the elevator. Sergio was scared to death and I needed to get over there. "Please, don't hang up." He squeaked out. "I won't baby I promise." I spoke as I fumbled with my keys. Sergio lived 25 minutes from me, but at this time of night and the urgency of his call I had to get there quick. "Are you speeding? Drive safe please I'm worried." Sergio softy spoke into the phone. "Gio, babe, I need to get to you. I told you I would be there for you." I answered him confidently, silently thanking god that all the lights were green. I continued my frantic drive, trying my best to keep Sergio talking, and as calm as I could him. "Babe I'm pulling onto your street." I said, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't had a full on panic attack. The other end of the line was silent. Shit, I thought. "Sergio?" I asked as I quickly pulled into the driveway and closed the gate behind me. Still no answer as I grabbed my things and sprinted inside. I dropped everything immediately as I entered the house. "Sergio where are you?" I asked as I ran around looking for him, pausing as I reached the kitchen. Sergio was huddled in a corner, his phone a few feet away, still unlocked and bowl of fruit and glass of water sat idling on the counter above him. I knew he would go distant when he had a panic attack, but not this distant. "Baby." I breathed out, rushing to his side. I hugged him to me and tried to remember everything he said helped. I untangled him from himself and pulled his head to my chest. He said it helped to hear someone else's heart beat. He was sweating and breathing heavy. He didn't move at first except for shaking and erratic breaths. Still unresponsive verbally, which was making me nervous. I delicately reached for his hair, softly running my fingers through it. "Just breathe." I soothed. He nodded and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I could hear him sobbing and feel a few warm tears through my shirt. I sat quickly, just holding him to me as I played with his hair. All I had to do was get him calm enough where he and I could talk. "It's okay Sergio, I'm right here." I reassured him, kissing his head. It was silent for a few minutes as we sat in the empty kitchen. I was perfectly content, and thankful I wasn't traveling with the team at a time like this. That was a big fear of mine, that I wouldn't be able to reach him if and when he had a panic attack. They're like earthquakes, you never know they're gonna strike until a few seconds before or at least that's how Sergio described it to me. "I love you." Sergio softly voiced from my chest. "I love you too." I sniffed, thankful he had calmed down enough to speak comfortably again. "I'm sorry you had to see that, and I'm sorry if it scared you." He said quietly, still not looking at me. "Sergio that's what I'm here for. I'm here to love and support you, through good and bad. You need to know you're safe with me just like I know you'd kick anyone's ass if they tried to hurt me." I smiled, all the while still playing with his hair. "Thank you." Was all he responded with. "Why don't we get you up to bed? Or a shower maybe?" I asked, moving to get him to sit up. He rubbed his red, puffy eyes before pulling back from the bruised one. "Ow." He mumbled. "I just want to go to bed, with you." He said, looking at me for the first time. "Of course." I nodded and helped him up. Immediately following, I wrapped my arm around his waist and held his hand. "Baby you're all sweaty are you sure you don't want to take a quick shower?" I asked him as we walked slowly up to his bedroom. "I don't want to be alone." He said softly, still upset. "Well I'll get in with you and help you wash up." I offered in a gentle tone and he nodded. By the time we reached his bathroom, Sergio still looked very upset. I was hoping the shower would relax him a little bit before bed. "Okay let's get you out of those sweatpants." I said to him, gesturing for him to take them off. He did as I said while I undressed myself as well. "You look pretty." His voice cracked a little as he spoke quietly, gesturing to the lingerie I had chosen to wear. "Thank you." I winked at him as I moved to turn on the water. Sergio came up behind me, still in his boxers and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pressed a gentle kiss to my shoulder before hugging me to him. "I love you." He whispered as he rested his head on my chin. I caressed his face and turned, planting a kiss on his cheek, "I love you too, Sergio." He unwrapped himself from me and stepped away so we could both finish undressing. I stepped into the shower first and extended a hand to help him in. "Let's get you cleaned up." I said, giving him a tired smile that he reciprocated slightly. I grabbed his shampoo while he stood under the warm water. I gestured for him to come over to me. I massaged his scalp as I worked in the soap, playing with his hair, using my nails. He seemed to relax just a little bit, but was still on edge. "Okay go rinse." I said in a soft, gentle tone. He nodded and went over to the shower head to rinse off. While he was doing so, I found his body wash, my favorite one anyways. He moved back towards me when he was done and I massaged his back as I worked the soap to a suds in his body. Moving to his arms and chest, I did the same. After, I bent down to get his legs. I glanced up at him as he watched me, his wet hair sticking up all over the place. He had a certain look on his face, it was almost like he wanted us to do some adult things in this shower but he didn't have it in him right now. As much as I was looking forward to probably having sex with him tonight, now that was definitely out of the realm of possibilities. "Okay baby, just go rinse off and brush your teeth, I'm gonna go grab my bag from downstairs. I'll be right back, yell if you need me." I said and made my way out of the shower. Sergio stared at me silently as I left, I hoped he'd be fine for a minute while I grabbed my bag. Hurriedly I ran downstairs, holding the towel to me and grabbed my backpack, sprinting back up the stairs. I set it down on Sergio's bed and walked into the bathroom. I walked into see Sergio brushing his teeth with a towel around his hips. He paused and waved at me before going back to brushing. I breathed a sigh of relief and went to put on some pajamas which at this point was usually one of Sergio's shirts and some panties. "Hey." He mumbled behind me, startling me a little. "Hi love." I smiled at him. "What's in your hand?" I asked, pointing to what looked like a shirt. "This is for you." He said softly, handing me the shirt. I unrolled it to reveal a Real Madrid jersey with Sergio's name on the back. "A-after we started dating, and made it official, I scored the next game. That's the jersey I wore. I w-want you to have it. You can wear it when I'm away for a game or you're away, or if you miss me." He spoke, still with a quiet, nervous voice. "Baby, I love it." I smiled at him and pulled off the shirt I was wearing, trading it for the jersey. The sleeves were loose and it was long enough to cover my butt. "It smells just like you." I grinned. He nodded. "I washed it, but I wore again and sprayed a little cologne on it, I know how much you like it." He blushed slightly. "It's perfect." I smiled and walked over to hug him. Sergio wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in his embrace. I heard him sigh and felt him relax a little more, "I'm exhausted, can we go to bed?" Sergio asked. I nodded and crawled into what had become my side of the bed. "Do you want to cuddle?" I asked him, looking over at him. He nodded and got in, quickly moving to be the big spoon. "I'm really glad you're here." He whispered and kissed my shoulder. "Always baby. I'm glad you called." I answered as he pulled me closer to his body. "I'm not letting you go all night." He said and held me a little tighter. It wasn't uncomfortable for me, but I could tell he was still anxious. It was really nice to know I had become his security blanket. "Goodnight Sergio, I love you." I whispered, settling in. He didn't answer, the only response was his quiet, cute snores. Knowing he had fallen asleep was enough for me to relax and drift off too.

[caranelguild]

Caran El, Rafe 15

Assuring the women they will be back for them, Caran El & Co. advance to the next door. Rhedyn opens it, hears a click above and inside, and rolls forward as a giant axe swings down on a pendulum. She avoids the blade, but falls through a false floor headlong into a ten-foot pit. Groá fishes her out, and they all survey the room.

The floor is a random checkerboard of three tiles, repeating without rhyme 30 tiles by 30 tiles all the way to the far door. Groá taps the tiles to her immediate left and right with her hammer; a decorated tile and a tile perforated with small holes. Nothing happens. Gwyllt steps onto the decorated tile. Still nothing happens. “The decorated tiles are safe!” he declares, and hops over a row to land on the nearest of that variety. A jet of fire shoots from the ceiling and torches his head. Finding it too hot to handle, he steps forward onto a perforated tile, which promptly perforates his feet with little blades that erupt from the holes. He remains fixed in place as the others look on. “The decorated tiles may not all be safe,” Gwyllt says.

Rhedyn meanwhile steps onto the first decorated tile and prods an unmarked tile directly in front of her with her rapier. An anvil drops onto the tile and cracks it. At Tahiki’s suggestion, she prods it again, but no new anvil appears to land upon the first, so she steps gingerly onto its tile. From the new tile, she begins prodding tiles all around her in an effort to reach Gwyllt. She gets nothing promising from her efforts (and melts the tip of her blade in a tile that turns to acid as she touches it) until she tosses a bracelet onto a plain tile a row over and a spear ejects at speed from the ceiling. It sticks point-first into the tile. Rhedyn leaps over to it, collects her bracelet, and reaches the spear over to Gwyllt, who uses it to test the tiles before him. Blades of blue flame from a perforated tile, a column of water somehow rectangular and contained on its decorated tile without spillage, and a shower of gravel also contained on its plain tile reward his efforts.

Meanwhile, Tahiki is waiting on the anvil and Otato is on the first decorated tile by the pit and the door. He observes collections of empty picture frames hanging on the wall, many crookedly, and wonders if he’s solved the room when he straightens one. “We should straighten the frames! Each frame is connected to a trapped tile!” he asserts baselessly.

Gwyllt pole vaults onto the tile now piled with gravel, and his landing upon it breaks whatever spell had been holding the gravel to its constraints and it begins spilling over onto the surrounding tiles. Fire erupts, water pours, gravel is launched into the air by a catapulting tile, and further tiny stones suddenly fall upward towards the ceiling. Gwyllt himself begins to lose footing on the scree. As he slides towards a mystery tile, Tahiki looks back at the door, the tiles on either side of it unresponsive to Groá’s hammer. He looks at Otato, climbing up awkwardly onto Groá’s shoulders to get a better view of the room as a whole (unhelpful).

“The tiles along the walls are safe!” he calls out. 

Gwyllt regains his footing on the gravel and Rhedyn pauses before leaping to join him. Slowly, they turn back to the others.

Groá tests Tahiki’s theory, letting down Otato in the doorway and moving slowly along the wall, tapping the tiles ahead. When she reaches the corner safely, she is convinced, and along with the others makes her way around the room to the door. Gwyllt and Rhedyn retrace their steps and join them. As they turn the corner at the far wall, the voice speaks. Fulfilling the unnoticed pun, Groá eagerly grabs the doorknob and throws open the door, realizing halfway through the action that her hand is wrapped tightly around something that is red hot. She pulls it back blackened and numb. Auni is quick to supply a Cool Aid, and she regains a tingling feeling that is followed by sharp pain. The group is dismayed at the shortage of sand in the top half of the hourglass. Gwyllt collects the key and pillow and they all move quickly towards the next door.

This time, Groá just kicks the door in. What greets their eyes is a rough natural cave softly glowing in the dim light of organic crystals erupting from the stone in every which way. In the middle is a crystal of particular girth. The voice introduces the room. Our party makes their careful way up the difficult terrain towards the central crystal and find a bowl indented into its top filled with a black liquid. Groá has everyone stand back and begins slamming her hammer into the crystal. It chips. A chunk flies off. Finally, a crack sings out and darts by degrees up towards the bowl. With a final “shing!” it finishes its journey in the crystal’s top and the liquid begins running down it to the ground. Caran El & Co. gather around the key still sitting in the mostly-intact bowl. A slight sheen of remaining wetness is seen on its brass. Gwyllt pulls out a mysterious powder from his pack, something he pickpocketed from a guest at Nakamoto’s tower, and shakes some of it over the key. 

“Why would you put MORE drugs on something that’s already drugs!” complains the collective party. Auni sheathes two of his fingers in ice and picks the key up gingerly. Even more gingerly, he descends the far side of the crystal hill and comes up to the door, where he is unable to turn the key in the lock with only two fingers. Groá takes it in her burned hand and unlocks the door, a wisp of smoke rising from her fingers where they contacted the acid.

Our party does not hesitate on the other side of the door. Countable grains remain unfallen in the hourglass. Key, pillow, and the next door is opened. A small stone room greets their eyes, populated only by a low stone table upon which rest four vials numbered I through IV. The far door is wreathed in a sickly green mist, which is promptly explained. Our adventurers debate for a time. “He mentioned five vials,” they say. “One is the antidote, one causes paralysis, one is the poison, and two are harmless.”

“One of the vials has to be both.”

“The antidote is probably also the poison.”

Tahiki dwells upon the wording. “ONE is the antidote. ONE causes paralysis. There is one that is the poison, and two that are harmless.” He strides forward and drinks vial I and then sprints through the mist, colliding hard with the door that is not even a meter into the mist. He opens it and the mist disappears. As the others marvel about their returning to the entry room with the statue, Tahiki feels a tingling in his fingers and toes. He picks up the final key and the pillow, observing regarding the latter, “I’ll need this soon.”

“There’s gotta be something else in here,” mutters Gwyllt, and, ignoring the boring bookshelves, casts his eyes over the statue. Sure enough, he finds nine keyholes in its base, into which he inserts all eight of his keys. Tahiki gives him the other, and Gwyllt turns them all one by one as the rest of the party looks on.

The statue rumbles and rotates, revealing a descending spiral staircase. Our adventurers descend it, and find themselves in the circular room dominated by the genocide machine. Along its walls, equally spaced, are 33 pillars and 33 chairs. Sitting in each of the latter are robed Sablists, the skirts of their vestments decorated with new insignia in gold thread. One dark elf, sitting across the machine from our party, has the accoutrements of a golden facsimile of a chest of mail. He speaks in a familiar voice, saying to his fellows:

“Ah, look, our sacrifices have arrived, and mostly intact.” He turns to our adventurers. “Oh, are you surprised? You thought, ‘We’ve made it through all nine rooms, the races of Nos are safe’? You forget you are playing our game. What is fair or unfair is determined by the game maker, and I’ve decided that no rules have been broken. But you have entertained us, and for that you have our thanks. We do not need two mossers; one of you may go. And I think you know that we have no present need of a saltie, don’t you? Interesting: a stag’ has joined your party. We have no need for it; you may take it with you. Oh, and don’t think to use your wicka in this room. You’ll find our crystal is quite thirsty, and you may not want to give it all it asks for.”

Esa slips off of Groá’s back and totters forward towards the crystal.

“Impressed by our machine? It’s one-of-a-kind.”

“It’s not that big,” comments Groá.

“Yes,” whispers Esa.

Then, suddenly, he is touching the crystal. It glows brilliant purple-white and crackling energy fills the room. Caran El & Co. feel a force draw their energy from them. Some resist; others stagger, exhausted, as the light fades and the crackling ceases. Otato falls to the ground unconscious. 

Esa has changed. He is no longer a withered old man but young and full of vitality. His white hair glimmers as red as his eyes as he turns to the Sablist speaker.

“Dreydark Morlas,” he says. “Your scheming is at an end. You and your guild are finished. NOS IS MINE.” He spreads his arms and the crystal crackles behind him, then falls silent and dark. There is a moment of silence, and then all 33 of the Sablists slump in their chairs. Some of them fall from them onto the floor. Every one of them is dead.

Esa turns to our adventurers. “You have provided me a service. You are free to go.” He walks away down the wide hallway leading to Sablist HQ proper.

“Wait!” calls Auni. He sets off in pursuit, the others following. Groá throws Otato on her shoulder. Tahiki says, wavering exhausted on numbing legs, “Better carry me, too.”

Caran El & Co. ascend a wide, curving stairway and spill into a gigantic room lit by bright morning sun through a massive stained-glass window. Esa is nowhere to be seen. “You owe us an explanation!” shouts Auni at the ceiling, many stories above them. 

“I owe you nothing. Leave before you have exhausted my patience,” returns Esa’s empowered voice, echoing.

Our party, exhausted and injured, returns downstairs to complete their objective of locating Saja, who they find in a prison cell off of the machine room. Groá knocks herself into a swoon knocking down the locked door. A Cool Aid brings her back to consciousness. Something strange catches Auni’s eye as he passes through that room, and he finds the spiral staircase that they had descended---which had been solid stone when they had walked it---is now a skeleton of wood. Behind it, he can see the hallway that should lead to the sewers.

[myheartisbro-ken]

Hi! 💙 I hope your are doing well. Congrats on the article. The reading will probably be okay. Are you a fast or slow reader? I read rather slowly, especially if I'm enjoying what I'm reading. It sticks with me better that way, but it takes me longer to do things. 😅 My semester ends next week, then have finals period. l'm taking Summer courses tho to get ahead. I get what you mean. I don't party, but around TH and F there's a certain restlessness about some of the students to drink/part. (Pt 1)

Ugh, I hate group work. 😐 Best of luck to you. Maybe your for a decent group. Anyway, I prefer morning courses. I get up at an obnoxiously early time to attend though. I’m fine with it though because it lets me take my courses in a block with out breaks, so once I’m done, I’ll be done for the day. 😥 Probably an unpopular schedule though. Oh, so My Immortal can actually be constructive to writers. That makes sense. It’s what a writer shouldn’t ever do. About JK, I think it’s an attempt (pt 2)(pt 3) Lowkey don’t recall my train of thought..Anyway, wow, I definitely agree with your statements about Lena knowing Kara’s dual identity. Snapper knowing wouldn’t help anything, since he’s too minor a character to do anything useful with information. Lena knowing would create more depth, tension, plot possibilities etc., which is why’d it would be a shame for her to be left in the dark. Also, I feel her not knowing (or at least theorizing Kara’s supergirl) is ooc. I suppose the writers– <3–haven’t had an issue with that based on what they’ve done to Alex. :-/ Hmph. I’m still so annoyed about that. Partially, because I’m a SuperCorp shipper, but mainly because it’s an insult to Alex’s personality to force her to advocate on Mon El’s behalf. Who was your favorite character from S1, btw? I’d probably go with Kara, but for S2 it’s definitely Lena. Anyway, yes Lena looks so amazing in the trailer! Heh, I intended it to be a soft FMK…I was going to make it all Katie, but wasn’t–(4)–words, words, something, but wasn’t going to be that cruel to you. (Hopefully that fit with my previous thing). Smh, you’ve no qualms though do you? ;-) I’m kidding. Your answers were well thought out…even though you didn’t kill anyone. I can’t blame you though. I don’t think Red K! Kara is all that bad, but she’s definitely intimidating, so is Kate. Anyway, let’s see FMK: Lena, Morgana,and Kate… :-/ 3 M'kay, that’s hard, especially since I love them all and ship SuperCorp. (5 TBC)–words, words, something, but wasn’t going to be that cruel to you. (Hopefully that fit with my previous thing). Smh, you’ve no qualms though do you? ;-) I’m kidding. Your answers were well thought out…even though you didn’t kill anyone. I can’t blame you though. I don’t think Red K! Kara is all that bad, but she’s definitely intimidating, so is Kate. Anyway, let’s see FMK: Lena, Morgana,and Kate… :-/ 3 M'kay, that’s hard, especially since I love them all and ship SuperCorp. (5 TBC)(6) Uh, let’s see. I’m going to assume they are all brought to current times, so the 21st century. I would marry Morgana. You know what? I’d marry Morgana S1 or S5 because I’ve so many emotions for her and what she went through. I’d want her to know someone would be on (*cough* and by *cough*) her side. Also, she has magic that’s cool, but not the point. I don’t really want Supergirl to kill me or be sad. I wouldn’t kill Lena as of now; she’s not done anything wrong. Also, her company is (TBC)(8?) So, yes: M:Morgana, F: Lena, K: Kate. Hmm, I see yours and raise you: FMK: Lucy, she’s a vampire now but has some control over it | Kara Danvers, more so S1 in personality, but she’s still elects to become a reporter and encourages you | Lena, before she met Kara and is still learning to be a CEO…I guess that’s a younger!Lena? Idk. Okay, that should work. I hope you have a good day and night. Do you read comics? I don’t, but was curious if you did. U seem to know some lore. :-) <3 (fin)

Heyyy! I’m not so sure I’m a fast or slow reader, it depends on my state of mind, if I take my meds and external interruptions. Usually I can read pretty fast if it’s something I’m interested in but I tend to miss things and have to read it again, with school things I’m the worst. I still have things from last year that I never got around to read and one of them was about superman (I miss studying cinema because we could have an entire class about superman and co and then write fanfiction of the world as an activity). We don’t have summer classes here, that sounds interesting, it’d be nice to get ahead, also it’s about to be winter here so after July we’ll get maybe a month off and then it’s back to being unresponsible adults. I’ve nothing against drinking and partying, I like drinking (parties are usually weird but sometimes it’s cool) but don’t freaking leave class to do it, go after the class, how disrespectful is it to leave the poor teacher there waiting 20 minutes to see if the rest of the class will show up or they’ll have to do with six or seven people? Also you pay over 1.000 bucks a month to study and you don’t give a shit about being in class? it’s throwing money away and it’s disrespectful to whoever is paying school, even if that someone is yourself. I’m not those kids that say you should only do what’s right and never skip class never drink or do anything because you have to study instead of throwing your life away. But school is expensive and respect is something you should have for everyone (unless someone is a jerk, because it’s not murder if the person is a jerk…jk)

I never liked studying in the mornings but it’s sort of better, however, my classes only exist at night, there is morning journalism classes, but it’s in another neighborhood and we have to cross the bridge and there’s no cool campus. I like my campus.

group projects are the worst. They end friendships, they end marriages, they end happiness, they lead to murder… it’s never fun. I always imagine that scene with the guy getting pizza and coming back to the place on fire and people bleeding, or that one from Mean Girls with the fighting over Aaron Samuels in animal style. Those are the only representations of group projects that are realistic.

I love how you just started to talk about JK, had two words in and

Honestly Alex has been so ooc this season it’s almost sad. No offense to Sanvers, but I think even that relationship is a bit ooc. Not the fact that there is a relationship but how it is being handled. Not gonna go into it cuz I don’t want to rant here. but I would ship Sanvers if they had put a bit more of effort into getting them together not ‘I don’t want a baby gay rn, so let’s be friends. PSYCHE I just got shot in the most harmless area of my entire body, let's make out!’

The same Alex that thought James wasn’t good enough for Kara and decked Maxwell Lord for existing would never make excuses for someone that is basically the dumb alien version of Lord with worse hair and more aggression and more pretending to be a #goodguy who’s just trying so hard and changed because after 9 months on earth as a grown man he decided to read a book, feed himself and clean his own mess… or pretend to clean his own mess while Kara actually does it and he just sits there and says she’s annoying because she doesn’t want to run away from her problems. (hey look, ranting… she said with surprise in her voice for some reason)

My favorite character was definitely Cat… and Kara. Both at the same time, I can’t choose between them, please don’t make me. and now it’s Lena… and still Kara even though she’s basically dead inside and that girl who cries because her boyfriend is moving away and it will destroy her life because that person she knows nothing about and met 9 months ago when he tried to kill her and has been lying to her and shoving her self-esteem down ever since is apparently the most important person in her life and she can’t live without him. he cooked her breakfast so he can’t move away and face his responsibilities, she’s the best thing he’s ever known, not person, thing. That woman in the best thing… god, this is so gross I cannot continue even to joke about this. so yeah, Kara is SUPER ooc this season, but I still love her and have faith she will recover from this terrible illness and come back to us, I miss her.

Yes! I would totally still marry Morgana even season 5 Morgana. poor thing just needs a hug and a friend to tell her she’s not a monster for being born different. I might start crying now so I’ll change topics. 

Definitely Marry Kara, no questions asked. Fuck Lena because, I mean, just look at her. And Kill Lucy, my poor bby, but she’s a vampire so she has to go, control or not, ‘vegetarian’ vampires are dumb.

I do read comics, not as much as I’d like, but I also watched all of the DC cartoons (minus Legion because it looks dumb) most of Smallville and Lois & Clark and when I want to know some more I read about the storylines and all, like even when I don’t read the comic itself, I read about the comic. I won’t say I know all about everything, but I can hold my ground, I guess, I’m also not above admitting I don’t know/haven’t read enough about one subject/character and reading about that on one of the sites I trust. Also watched a lot of Marvel cartoons and most of the movies aaaand I read a lot of Marvel comics, specially Balck Widow, Hawkeye, and Young Avengers.

Did you watch any superhero cartoons? They were a pretty big deal in the 90′s and early 2000′s.

Hope you have a great day and night 💙😊

[reynardiine]

I wanted to share some book samples, from all the stories I’ve officially started:

TRANSFIGURE ( published & available via amazon )

          The walls of the kitchen pushed outward, wooden benches spreading out on either side of us. Archways and chandeliers and a great glass window formed in the rusted metal and rotting wood. The church to which Kane and I fled proceeding the suiting ceremony took the place of the Brotherhood’s kitchen. It was different from what I remembered, the shadows now filled with a blinding light. The boards placed over the windows were gone, the coat of dust on every open space was cleaned off, and the air filled with a neutral aroma that brought me a drowsy kind of calm.

         In the spit, a man stood, his hands waving vehemently about him. He told a story using words I could hardly make out. He held up a book, a bible. The pews were filled with people shouting praises, agreeing with a single word and the nod of their heads. Hands raised to the ceiling as they grasped for something which was not there.

         “All that began believes in an end.”

         Between the two columns of seats, Talbot walked one foot lined perfectly in front of the other. He stood no closer to either side, but both hands stayed outstretched to the people. Every other step, one of those grasping hands would find his, squeeze tightly, and drop to their hearts or their laps, heads bowed in acceptance.

         “You may find it familiar. Apollyon, the destroyer, perhaps Azrael, hm? Samael, Hel, San La Muerte, Osiris. The Grim Reaper himself — The names are endless, yet it is the only thing on which the human race seems to agree.” When he reached the end of the aisle, he took his first step toward the man ahead. “Life is a privilege granted to few. Death is the only promise given to all.” With each slow stride up the stairs, the man standing behind the podium grew weaker, giving in to an ailment that outwardly resembled age. A slow descent began for the priest as Talbot rose higher.

         When he reached the same level as the man, he took his hand. Even when the man fell at his feet, Talbot stood tall.

         “Save me,” the priest pleaded, eyes wide with something that was neither fear nor sadness. They beheld something I might never understand. He greeted Talbot as an old friend, a chance at well-deserved rest, his path home.

         Talbot’s head bowed.

         He knelt before the man.

         Whispered something in his strange language.

         Astounded and horrified at once, I watched as the man sank to the floor. A smile was on his lips. Before it could reach them, the light in his eyes dimmed.

         “What have you done?” I demanded, a shout that came out muffled in the open air.

         Heads tilted around me, but not one turned my way. Even Talbot seemed preoccupied. He leaned down and lifted the man from the ground effortlessly. A wooden box rose from the ground behind them. The attention to detail was incredible. Tiny swirls of leaves and flowers lined the upper brim, and the inside was covered in what looked like velvet. Gently, Talbot lay the man inside and closed the lower half of the lid.

         With his head still bowed, he answered me. “I have kept my promise.”

CRUCIFY ( wip )

          Howls sounded to the North. Dogs, logic guessed. 

         No, my heart pounded in return.

         The curtain of a hut pulled open, spilling weak light into an eager darkness. A boy of no more than nine stepped out. The candle in his hand only served to blind himself out here. My focus snapped to the glowing halo at his bare feet. He took another tender step forward, and my hand fell to the pistol at my side.

         I liked to think that part of me called out and asked if everything was okay. Whatever did make it into the space between us did nothing to catch his attention. He stepped forward, slowly at first. Another howl broke from woods. Couldn’t have been a dog; it was too sentient, both unsettlingly human and otherworldly.

          His next few steps came a bit more hurried. Panic flushed his cheeks. “Mom?” he called out, his tiny voice bouncing back from the wood. “Mom, is that you?”

          For a moment, everything stood still. The boy, his candle held high above his head, waited anxiously for a response. Then, his shoulders lowered, his chest fell back into its natural breathing patterns, and he smiled.

          “I thought you were gone for good,” he told the night.

          Shadows pressed in all around; even his candle seemed to struggle against its cover. The flame was suffocating, dwindling more as the boy moved farther from his home. He dropped it, and the wax snapped in half against the carpets. The flame should have caught. Instead, it dwindled there, giving a final sigh as it blinked out. With all these guards pacing the camp’s border, someone else should have seen this.

          In the pitch of dusk, from this distance, the trees weren’t much more than a dream. There was no definition between them. No beginning, no end. In every direction, they gave the illusion that we were hopelessly barracaded inside. 

          Amid that apprehension, it showed itself. The celestial glow made it difficult to miss against the sylvan wall. With a slender torso made of bare, pulsing organs, its deer-like skull scarcely supported itself on the fragile bones of its neck. There were no legs to speak of, nor bones to support its floating insides. Its ribs were built with hundreds of tendrils that sprouted from its head, woven round and round the creature’s body as a crude fix. Between its broken jaws lay what looked to be the teeth of a piranha. Where a set of antlers should have been, two open pipes protruded to match the third in the center of its brow, and a black haze poured out. 

          One hand, its fingers a tangle of veins and vine and bone and steel, extended toward the boy in a gentle wave to follow, then hovered. Likely an invitation to hold on. 

          Another desperate, “Mother,” wafted toward it. 

REYNARDINE ( working title / wip )

          The news still ran the pictures a year after his disappearance.

          Dad didn’t like that. He said it was something like Zeddex poking the body of that deer he had dragged out of the bayou last week.

          “They keep at this, the whole thing’s gonna bust wide open, and we’ll be stuck with the stink,” he would announce for anyone passing through the den. He never did turn it off. If anything, the television stayed on just to get another look at the kid — brown hair and grey eyes, just like the child playing with a bucket of chipped up two-by-fours by the coffee table. The only thing setting the two apart was a twelve-month age gap.

          Stories ran nationwide for the past week, deeming this very night with monumental importance. “Today marks the tragic anniversary of the Shaddix murders,” the anchor whose name the boy could only comprehend as Carrie-Bo passed on to her audience. She wasn’t that interesting, aside from the globed shape of her hair. “One year ago, parents, Stephen and Catherine; their eight-year-old son, James; and their four-year-old daughter, Michelle were found unresponsive in their home in Ashford, Alabama. Michelle’s twin brother, Thomas, was never found.”

          With the end of the statement, the boy’s picture took up the screen again. In it, Thomas smiled proudly as he showed off the Barbie he’d stolen from his sister not minutes before. That was when another abrupt grunt came from Dad, followed by the heavy thump as his boots shifted against the edge of the table.

          His son’s head lifted only slightly with the smallest laugh, his eyes never moving from his tower of blocks. “That’s my name,” he told it. No one else would listen to him anyway.

          “Yep.” The word was drawn out around an exhale of complacency. “You and your brothers ain’t allowed in town for a while.”

BILGEWATER ( working title / wip )

          They pull this shit all the time, for one reason or another. Last week, it was a faulty tail light. Weird, since the thing was working both before and after the encounter. Last month, it was for the El Camino’s lift kit. Texas law might not have a problem with it, but these guys sure as shit do. 

          Now it’s because his pipes are too loud. Alright, he’ll give them that one. But everyone knows the only reason Finn’s been stopped is so the fuzz can get a better look at that uglyass car.

         “So’s ‘is gonna take much longer, man? ‘Cause I got ‘mportant places to do and people to be, if ‘at’s cool with you.” He thinks it’s hilarious, but highway patrol’s a bitch no matter how big a comedian you think you are. Doesn’t get so much as half a grin out of that one, just the delayed turn and an agonizingly slow saunter back to the paddywagon. It’s been the same guy five times now. Surely, Finn and Officer Wright are on better terms than this.

         There’s not much time to question it. Finn doesn’t even have to answer his phone to know what Walker’s about to say.

          Why the fuck are you always late, boy?

          Maybe if he’d put in a good word with Amarillo PD, they wouldn’t have this problem, but good luck convincing him that’s even a problem. Well, if Walker won’t take Finn’s word for it, he’ll just have to show him. With the pedal floored, those BFGoodrich tires throw out enough gravel to crack the car’s windshield in three places. And only when he’s got a half mile head start does he take Walker’s call.

         “Goddamn, Gramps. I’m right around the fuckin’ corner, alright. I’ll be there before — What? Nah, that ain’t a siren. I’m just bringin’ over a few friends."

FISHER ( working title / wip )

          “Two — two packs,” he stammered over the dull hum of the A/C. His voice sounded wrong, but he hadn’t spoken in nearly a week, save for the infrequent mutterings to himself over how wrong the estimated heating time was on the average frozen meal. 

          The woman on the other side of the counter didn’t seem to notice.

          Doris noticed everything.

          It had to be in his head.

          Yeah — In his head, you know, like the fourth hack on his server in three weeks had to be. Like that Escalade he caught parked nearby every time he opened his shutters. Like the odd tone on the other end of every phone call he had tried to make. He was just paranoid; it ran in the family. Yeah, that’s all it was. Had to be.

          He was more jittery than usual. That was saying a lot, considering the way his hands used to shake in high school. Teachers reprimanded him for the chicken scratch, said they couldn’t read it, but hey — neither could he. That was why he liked his keyboard. Kept his hands busy and came out right no matter what.

          But how long would it be, now, before that was taken away? The feds were getting wise, took down a couple of affiliates already, and what would happen when they caught the elusive Fisher?

          A man rounded the corner and said something that didn’t quite catch at first. He glazed over it, ignored it, tried to buy the cigarettes and move on; but the man repeated himself: “William Fisher?” 

          Will gave a wordless nod.

          A second man rounded the corner just to yank him away from the register, spilling all those rights the land of the free, home of the brave had to offer. Weird. He always thought he would fight the day they slapped cuffs on him.

[bookgirlfan]

Schrödinger’s Steve

Also available on AO3.

They collapse to the ground together, a little huddle of four. Robin is just so relieved that these kids are alright, selfishly glad that they were safely away on a hilltop, not stuck on the mall like the rest of the kids. Sure, she’s glad the others are safe, but these kids are hers. Hers and Steve’s, her unexpected new best friend. 

Robin leans further into their huddle, gripping the back of Erica’s shirt to bring them even closer. Steve’s got one arm around her, the other around Dustin, and his arms are pulling their little group tight. Eventually the paramedics will notice them and they’ll have to let go, but now she just wants to breath in air that’s not stale or thick with the scent of blood and pretend that if she grips tight enough, none of them will ever leave her. 

Steve slumps sideways into Dustin, and she lets out a hysterical giggle at the thought of Steve letting his hair get messed up like that.  Then Steve’s arm falls from her shoulders and it doesn’t seem quite so funny.  

“Steve?” She hears Dustin ask, and their huddle shifts as Dustin pulls away from Erica to turn towards Steve. “Steve! Talk to me, buddy, say something!” 

Steve isn’t responding. Some time in the last few minutes his eyes have closed, and underneath all the blood and bruising he looks exhausted. Neither of them slept last night (was it only last night?) and they’ve spent hours today being held captive and tortured by evil Russians. He looks now way too much like he did then, limp and unresponsive. 

On the list of terrifying things she’s seen in the last twenty four hours, this one is still close to the top. 

Dustin’s still shouting, and now she is too, yelling at Steve to wake up and stop worrying the kids. Worrying her too, but she’s not going to say that. Dustin’s looking panicked enough as is, and Erica, who hadn’t even lost her composure when stuck in a secret underground Russian base for an entire night, is sniffling suspiciously. 

It’s not making any difference. Steve’s still unconscious. 

Their shouting has attracted attention, and she can feel hands on her shoulders pulling her back, away from Steve. She fights, struggling out of their grip so she can stay close to Steve, but the hands keep pulling. “It’s okay, it’s okay!” She hears in her ear. “They’re just trying to help.” 

It takes a while for the meaning to filter through, but once it does she lets the hands drag her backwards. The voice stays at her shoulder, a meaningless babble of words that she can’t be bothered to try and work out, not while she is looking at Steve to make sure he hasn’t stopped breathing. She’s never seen CPR performed in real life, and she doesn’t want to start tonight. 

Finally they load him into a stretcher, then an ambulance, and it wheels away with lights flashing. Only then does the voice sink in enough for her to realise who it belongs to. “Nancy?” Her voice feels hoarse, and it takes her a moment to realise it’s probably because she’s been screaming at Steve for who knows how long. Her head shoots up and she looks around frantically, pushing Nancy away, because she hadn’t been the only one screaming at Steve to wake up. “Dustin! Where’s Dustin? Dustin!” 

“He’s fine!” Nancy exclaims, grabbing at her arms again. “He’s fine, Mike’s with him.” 

Robin relaxes. 

“Erica’s over with her brother and Max,” Nancy continued in a voice that sounds like she’s trying to be soothing, but is still too tense to hit the mark, “and Will and Jonathan are with their mom and El. We’re safe now.” 

“No, we’re not,” Robin automatically corrects. She doesn’t think she’ll ever feel safe again. 

Nancy breathes out, and Robin can feel the other girl’s ribcage expanding. “No, we’re not.” 

Robin lets out a broken laugh. “I thought he was an idiot. But now, he could be... he could be...” She can’t say it. Her laugh turns into sobs, shaking her shoulders and making her throat clog with tears. It’s not fair. They’d escaped the bunker, gotten away from the monster, and now it’s all over, Steve still might not survive. 

There’s another pair of arms around her now, smaller than Nancy’s but even more fierce. Curly hair falls into her eyes and Dustin is telling her, “He’s not going to die, he’s Steve Harrington! Last year he took on three demo dogs with a nail bat, and even after Billy beat him unconscious he still came with us until the tunnels to protect us. He can’t die now!” 

She has no idea what half those words mean, but it doesn’t matter. She turns and returns Dustin’s hug anyway.  

Nancy’s moved away, and she can feel both Wheelers’ eyes on her but can’t bring herself to care. Nancy might have done this before, but she’s still new to this. She’ll take the comfort where she can get it. 

“Do you want a ride to the hospital?” Nancy asks. 

Robin sniffs, pulling away from Dustin to wipe futilely at her eyes. “Yeah. Can you... Don’t you need to stay?” 

Nancy looks over to where the others are still gathered then back to Robin. She shakes her head once, decisively. “They don’t need me right now. And I don’t think you should be driving.” 

Robin shrugs, pulling herself to her feet, then holding out a hand to pull Dustin up too. “Doesn’t really matter without a car.” 

Nancy purses her lips, then looks over towards the others again. “I’ll be back.” 

She goes over to Jonathan, still with his arms around Will, and talks to him for a few minutes.  Finally, after they share a lingering kiss that Robin has the urge to shield Dustin’s eyes from, Nancy returns, Jonathan’s car keys dangling from her finger. “Jonathan’s staying with Joyce and El.” 

“I’m staying too,” Mike says defiantly. He’s wearing the stubborn look that seems to be a Wheeler trademark, and somehow even after everything that has happened this evening he still looks ready to fight. “El needs me.” 

Robin had forgotten he was there, too caught up in her emotions, and now she doesn’t really care whether or not he wants to come. She just wants to move already, find out if Steve’s okay. For a moment she wonders if maybe Dustin would want him there, just to have someone his age, but when she looks over at him he seems as keen to leave as she is. 

Nancy must understand how much they both just want to get moving, because she doesn’t bother arguing. “Fine. Stay with Mrs Byers. I’ll tell Mom you’re having a sleepover with Will.” She heads for the car. 

Robin is right behind her. Dustin stays behind, and she can hear him taking to Mike but can’t make out what they’re saying. Still, just as she and Nancy reach the car, he runs up behind her in time to skid to a stop beside the back door. “Can we go now?” he asks, and only then does Robin realise it’s the first he’s said in a while. She’s become so used to his chatter in the background over the course of the last couple of days that she didn’t even notice when it stopped. He really must be worried. 

“We were only waiting on you, doofus,” she tells him, and tries ruffling his hair. It doesn’t feel right. That’s what Steve does, and the action only makes his absence more noticeable. 

She tries pulling the brim of his cap down instead. That feels better. 

“Hey!” Dustin readjusts the cap, frowning at her. “Leave the hat alone.” 

“Do you want to see Steve or not?” Nancy is tapping her fingers against the side mirror, and Robin is suddenly reminded why she’d called her a priss. She looks so schoolmarm-ish, standing there judging them, and for a wild moment Robin wants to stick her tongue out at her. These kids are obviously a bad influence. 

Then the words sink in, and all other thoughts vacate the premises. For a moment, she’d almost forgotten, too caught up in teasing Dustin to remember that Steve could be dying, and she’s still here wasting time. 

Her hands start to tremble. 

Dustin opens the door to the back seat and climbs in, grabbing her hand and pulling her in afterwards. Nancy seems a little perturbed at having the front all to herself, but Robin’s too busy gratefully clutching Dustin’s hand to really care. She needs to feel connected right now, and she’s probably hurting Dustin’s fingers with how hard she’s squeezing, but it’s okay because he’s doing the same.

The ride to the hospital feels agonisingly slow and all too fast at the same time. As much as she wants to know if Steve is okay, she’s terrified to know for sure. What if he’s not alright? What if they are greeted at the hospital by a nurse saying they’re sorry, it was too late? 

She’s only just found out that Steve is no longer the jerk she knew in high school. He found out her biggest secret and treated him the same. She can’t lose him now. 

“I kind of don’t want to get there, you know?” she whispers to Dustin. She feels bad, sharing this with a kid, but their night has already included flesh monsters and underground Russian spy bases. He’s heard worse than this, and these emotions are too big to keep to herself. “If we don’t hear anything, I can pretend he’s alright.” 

Dustin nods sagely, hand still gripping hers tight. “Like Schrödinger’s cat. If you don’t open the box, the cat is both dead and alive.” His face pales. 

“We can call him Schrödinger’s Steve,” she jokes weakly. It’s a pretty pathetic joke, but she’s desperate for anything that will get that look off Dustin’s face. He’s too young to be that terrified, and joking her way through trauma has been the staple of Robin’s night so far. Why stop now? “And Steve won’t know what we’re talking about.” 

Dustin snorts a laugh, and if it’s a bit wet, well, at least he’s not sobbing. She would not have any idea how to deal with that – these are Steve’s kids, he’s the one who knows how to handle things like kids who don’t stop crying. She’ll just be the cool aunt or something. 

The car stops. Dustin’s hand is tight around hers. 

Now that they’re here, she doesn’t want to get out. She doesn’t want to know. Her mouth opens, ready to beg for Nancy to take them back, take them away, anywhere that’s not here, but then Dustin opens the door and their joined hands mean she has no choice but to follow him. 

How are these kids so young yet so brave? 

They go inside to the waiting room, telling the nurse on duty that they’re there for Steve Harrington. She asks what relation they are, and Robin doesn’t know what to say. How does she explain any of this to someone who doesn’t know? Steve is her coworker, her best friend, her companion in torture, her fellow monster fighter. How does she even begin to explain that? 

She looks over at Nancy, but Nancy looks similarly lost. Robin doesn’t even know if Nancy considers Steve a friend, or just her ex. She’s suddenly desperately curious to know what Nancy thinks of her. 

No, she does not have a crush on Nancy Wheeler. 

Dustin cuts right through her gay panic, pushing past her to tell the nurse that Steve is practically his older brother, stood up for him and his friends, and Steve didn’t have any other family in town, so can they please see him, pretty please? The kid is selling it for all he’s worth, and the nurse is visibly melting. 

“Alright, young man, the doctor’s just in with him now, but as soon as he’s settled you can go in and see him, alright?” 

Dustin absolutely beams at her, and Robin fiercely hopes that this Suzie knows how lucky she is. 

They retreat to the hard plastic chairs, perching on them like birds ready to startle at the slightest sound. The nurse watches them from the counter for a few minutes, eyes kind, but then is distracted by incoming patients and turns away. 

Robin reaches for Dustin’s hand again. She’d dropped it when he’d pushed past her earlier, but now reality was closing in on her again and she needs to know someone else understands, someone else knows what it’s like to worry for Steve. 

She doesn’t look at Nancy. Nancy is amazing, strong as diamond and just as pretty, but also terrifying. She faced down a speeding car with nothing but a pistol. She fought monsters like she does this every day. She broke up with Steve Harrington, twice, and didn’t care how unpopular it made her. She found out the government killed her best friend and spread that truth to the world, shining a spotlight on all their secrets. 

That last one is the most terrifying of all. Nancy has a reputation for finding secrets, and Robin has a lot of secrets to hide.  

Even though she doesn’t look at Nancy, she can still feel Nancy’s eyes on her. It makes her nervous, and not just because Nancy is terrifying. There’s also that familiar fluttery feeling in her stomach that is the last thing she wants to be feeling right now, yet it won’t go away. 

Of all the girls to have a crush on, why did it have to be Nancy Wheeler? 

This also makes the second time she’s fallen for a girl who’s fallen for Steve. Does she have an oddly-specific-and-also-kind-of-pathetic type? Because if so, she needs to get out of Hawkins as soon as possible. If the monster they’d faced tonight wasn’t enough reason, surely somewhere in the world there has to be a cute girl who hasn’t met Steve, because he may be the best friend she’s never had but this is ridiculous. 

“Why are they taking so long?” Dustin bursts out, jarring her from contemplating her dismal romantic prospects. “It was just his head, right? It’s been hours now, we should be able to see him!” 

“It hasn’t been hours,” Nancy corrects him. It comes out snappy, and she must notice because her next words are much softer. “It’s only been forty minutes. It took longer than that last time.” 

“How long did it take?” 

“There was a last time?” 

Their voices overlap, sounding very loud in the late night atmosphere of the Hawkins Hospital waiting room. The nurse at the front desk looks around at them again. Robin doesn’t care.

On some level she’d known that this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Everyone at Hawkins High remembered Steve “The Hair” Harrington, King Steve, coming in to school one morning with his face beaten to a pulp. Rumours abounded as to what had happened, but most people agreed Billy Hargrove must have been responsible. No one else would actually have fought Steve. It just – didn’t happen.  

 Even without that, Dustin’s excitement that Steve had managed to win a fight was proof enough that something must have happened before. She had picked up scattered bits and pieces from what the others had said, and even though it’s not enough to make giant flesh absorbing monsters and girls with superpowers actually make sense, it’s enough to know that some of the weirder things that had happened over the last couple of years had some kind of explanation behind them. 

Yet somehow none of this is enough for her not to have a slimy feeling in her gut at the revelation that this is not the first time Steve has had such a serious head injury he ended up in hospital. Not even the fact that she didn’t even really know him then is enough to make that feeling go away. If Nancy looking at her is causing butterflies, this feeling is more like vultures. Giant, circling vultures, just waiting for the opportunity to swoop down and tear strips out of her insides.  

“Last time it took us nearly an hour just to get seen, and then two more before I could go in and see Steve.” Nancy’s voice is lower now, and she looks towards the nurse before she speaks, even though the nurse has turned away again. She’s probably got better things to do than listen in on a couple of teenagers. “This time shouldn’t take as long.” 

Nancy must be some kind of prophet, because it’s only moments later that the doctor comes out and they are shuffled down the hall to Steve’s room. One of the beds is curtained off, with faint sounds of snoring drifting out, but they hurry past that one and see Steve lying on the other bed with his eyes closed. 

His eyes open as they get closer, and he levers himself up on one elbow. “Robin? Dustin? What happened? You guys didn’t find another monster without me, did you?” 

Robin stops. After all this time worrying about Steve, she doesn’t know what to do now that she’s here in front of him. She’s only known him for a few weeks. They fought a monster together. She hated him in high school, and he never noticed her, but now he knows her biggest secret and she thinks he might be the best friend she’s ever had. How does she even begin to think about all that? 

Dustin apparently has no such hesitations. He pushes past Robin and runs straight to Steve’s side, immediately wrapping him in a hug. Steve hugs him back, and the look on his face is so soft Robin kind of wants to cry. 

Finally, Dustin pulls away, only to immediately hit Steve in the arm. “Don’t scare me like that, man! I thought you were dead!” 

Steve tugs him closer and ruffles his hair. “And what, you decided to give up showers in protest? Dude, I can still see monster pieces in your hair.” He wipes his hand exaggeratedly on the sheets, the movement awkward because he’s still not sitting fully upright . 

Dustin rolls his eyes so obviously that Robin can see it across the room, but still he’s grinning, eyes looking suspiciously wet. “I didn’t have time to shower, we came straight here from the mall.” He leans in to hug Steve again, holding on nearly as long as last time. 

They break apart, and Steve looks at her, still standing in the doorway like an idiot. If she thought it felt awkward before, that’s nothing on right now. “Robin? You okay?”

There’s a moment of quiet. Steve’s eyes are big and brown and worried, even despite all the bruising. Dustin looks seconds away from literally dragging her over to join them. She has to say something. 

“You know, when I was ten I stole my mom’s make up and used it all over my face. Giant black eyes of mascara, three different colours of eyeshadow, and bright red lipstick down to my chin.” She pauses for a second. “I still looked better than you do right now.” 

Steve bursts out laughing. 

Almost immediately he’s clutching his ribs, moaning, but unable to stop a few giggles from escaping. “That hurts, Robin, don’t make me laugh with broken ribs.” 

“How was I supposed to know your ribs were broken?” she says, but she’s smiling. He’s okay.

He beckons her over and she goes, giving him a very careful hug and then just not letting go. Dustin’s arms come up around her and suddenly she’s in the middle of a three way hug. It’s sticky and smelly and gross, with both their ridiculous hair getting all over her face, but she doesn’t mind at all. 

Nancy has disappeared behind her, there’s flecks of vomit on her shirt from when she threw up earlier, her biggest secret is no longer just hers, and once they get their hands on her, her parents are probably never going to let her leave the house again. Still, in Steve and Dustin’s arms, knowing that Erica is safe across town with her brother, Robin can relax for the first time since Steve recognised that stupid music on the tape. 

They really are going to be okay.