Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader
Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.
Link to: Part 1
@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!
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It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.
After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.
“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.
“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”
You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.
“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.
A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.
“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.
You instantly feel relieved.
“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”
“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”
“I’m good, thank you. And you?”
“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”
“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”
“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”
“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”
“See you.”
You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.
Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making you feel strange. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.
“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park.
“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”
“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”
His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."
“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.
“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.
“Good.”
When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back.
Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.
You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.
"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.
“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.”
His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne.
The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red.
"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.
Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”
You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.
“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.
“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.
Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”
“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.”
He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from.
You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.
“Those guys?”
“Yes.”
Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”
You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."
“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.”
You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…”
“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.
“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes.
“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth.
You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?”
Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.
“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”
You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.
“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?”
Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California.
‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.
"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”
“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.
“Shit. That sucks.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”
“Do you still have your record player?”
“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”
As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.
“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home.
Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart."
His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.
“But why?”
“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”
“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver.
“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively.
“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently.
There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.
“Guess so,” he mutters.
For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent?
Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”
He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.
“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”
He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"
Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you.
“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.”
The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.
“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul.
Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."
You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard.
“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur.
“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?”
“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”
“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”
Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”
“Yeah.”
Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.
“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”
“What do you mean?”
As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.
“I mean…” "I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”
The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.
“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”
“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you.
Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.
“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”
Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.
“Wanna give it a shot?”
You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up.
“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”
You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”
He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”
His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”
You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.
“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face.
“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”
Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”
You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.
“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”
“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”
A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”
“So nada, huh?”
One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.
“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.”
You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.
You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.
“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”
Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.”
You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.
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ramble about ur favs i wanna hear abt ur thoughts -zaptrap
HAN’S INFODUMPING ABOUT JAY... START!!!!
so like sgdkdhdkdhd I say Jay and Lloyd are my “favorites” but honestly it’s so hard to pick favorites out of this skittles squad like I love EVERY character for a variety of different reasons. I was going to also infodump about Lloyd but then I started talking about Prime Empire and then this post got. Long. So. it's just Jay I may infodump about Lloyd another day especially since I'm very Conduit Brained Rn but yea yea!
this is long so i'm putting most of it under the cut so y'all don't kill me for making a huge long post
I considered putting Zane and Sora on here as well since I’d also consider them my “favs” but like this is already gonna be. A lot of. Infodumping (also i typed THIS part before I even started and decided not to yell about Lloyd because this already got long enough). Maybe I’ll make a separate post for those two hmm hmm much to consider but for now MY (technically) FAVORITE NINJAGO CHARACTER: JAY WALKER
THE SPARKPLUG WHO INVADED MY BRAIN LIKE A PARASITE
so hey his name is a pun this makes me laugh ridiculously hard every time I remember he is named. After a misdemeanor HSKSHDKFH
Jay is such an interesting case of a character for me because I started out the show not liking him. Which is. Stares at my entire account I think my feelings have changed somewhat
Jay starts out as an asshole I don’t think anyone can disagree with me there (although honestly they’re all assholes in early ninjago they bullied a ten year old and left him dangling several feet off the ground) but over the course of the show you can see him start developing into a much more interesting character. He goes from being so insecure he's faking everything about himself to someone who knows who he is and is so genuine about it
now yea we could argue about whether his character was too uwu-ified post-season 10 but this is the FUN HAN POST SO WE'RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT the point is you can SEE the growth that Jay has gone through and I am going to show you that growth through what I call
✨ The Skybound to Prime Empire Effect ✨
I AM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THE IDEA THAT PRIME EMPIRE WAS WRITTEN TO BE A DIRECT PARALLEL OF SKYBOUND AND WAS CENTERED ON SHOWING HOW THE NINJA ESPECIALLY JAY HAVE GROWN THROUGHOUT THE SEASON
when season 12 rolls around we are at the point in Jay's development where he is CONFIDENT in who he is. He's a fun-loving jokester with the power of lightning and the drive to help people whenever he can. He uses jokes and humor to help alleviate tension and get people through whatever's happening. And when on his own what does he do?
BECOME AN ENTERTAINER BABEY
i like to think jay's club in prime empire was a safe haven for anyone stuck in the game who figured out hey. we Can't Leave and felt freaked about it. Also Jay would generally try and spread the word that hey something ISN'T RIGHT HERE which would lead people to want to stay with him
(totally plugging my friend's fic but this kind of thing is explored in would you like to enter prime empire by @finn-m-corvex y'all should check it out cool cool)
also the prime empire shorts which i watched all of in the midst of typing this video cuz i love them go watch them please please please jay was publically fighting the red visors which I imagine may have raised some red flags for some players
THIS SOMEHOW TURNED INTO PRIME EMPIRE INFODUMPING LMAO ANYWAYS Jay's confident! He becomes an entertainer because it's who he knows he is! And it's something that will get people hyped and having fun, which is very in-character for Jay to do! He uses those kinds of things to mask the Bad Things going on and get people remembering what's good
I've talked about this sort of thing before but that's Jay's whole philosophy as early as season 9! Which is a DIRECT contrast to how he views it in season 6, as Nadakhan puts it scarily accurately
"You make jokes to mask the fact that you're afraid"
(i was gonna grab a screenshot for that like i did with the hunted scene but netflix has bloCKED THE ABILITY TO TAKE SCREENSHOTS THE WAY I USED TO and i don't have them already and i'm too lazy to grab them from elsewhere so alas trust me he says it)
making jokes to hide your fear and using humor to remind yourself of what's good and coping with the bad are two VERY different outlooks on it
so I think this outlook is what drives him to make this glamrock persona in the first place - this is a bad situation, one he's in with other civilians, and what better way to keep him and themself safe until the others get there than throwing a big performance at a safe place!
also it's just so gender okay I want to look like Superstar Rockin' Jay so badly
it's also interesting to see his outlook on his parents change over time! In season six he finds out Ed and Edna aren't his birth parents and feels upset about it, not understanding why his birth parents would've abandoned him. In season twelve, that outlook changing is EXACTLY why Jay's able to get through to Unagami
"I was abandoned by my parents, too!... I never understood why, and I never had the chance to even ask. But I always hoped there was a good reason. What if there's a reason?"
(again curse you netflix i wanted SCREENSHOTS whatever whatever)
It's this scene that gets Unagami to calm down long enough for Milton Dyer to get there, and presumably is what stops him from just. Flattening him and Jay like a pancake.
to piggyback off of this i absolutely adore how Unagami and Jay consider each other adopted brothers in that one book I still haven't read and I hope he's in Dragons Rising at some point Unagami is my favorite "villain" (no longer a villain) in the whole show he deserves more screentime
like this is where i found out about this and it's plagued my mind ever since. i need to read. this book just for them
SO YEA OKAY Prime Empire is "Who is Jay as a Person Post-Skybound" to me also it opens up so many fascinating things about Jay. I rest my case
so backpedaling a little bit. JAY CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HIS PARENTS GUYS IT'S SO SOFT AND I'M sobs
like yea the first episode with Ed and Edna in it has Jay avoiding them like the plague but this gets explained very easily when you remember he was bullied for his home life before he became a ninja. It makes a lot more sense why he wouldn't want them around his new friends, assuming they'd react the same way. Also how was he supposed to know literally all the rest of the groups parents were either dead, presumed dead, or had a toxic relationship with their kid lmao
(Cole calling his mom kills me. Cole's mom is dead. I know they probably just didn't think that far ahead when writing the dialogue but it's so funny mans pretended to call his dead mom to get on Jay for not appreciating his parents iconic behavior)
anyways literally every episode Ed and Edna are central to (except like the one in skybound) Jay stops at nothing to protect his parents and it means the absolute world to me he's so much like them!! They raised an inventive little nerd and he will stop at nothing to make sure they're safe and it's. It's SO IMPORTANT TO ME OKAY
ALSO this is an excuse to clip my favorite piece of dialogue possibly in the entire show. Except Netflix won't let me now. So you just get the text dialogue
Jay's just fallen from the sky with a messed up eye and is incredibly distraught that all his friends are captured. And his dad just. The woRLD IS FALLING APART AND HE'S EATIN' SOUP-
Ed i love you
anyways
anways anyways this just turned into me rambling about prime empire and then Ed and Edna and a lot of disjointed other stuff but thank you for this opportunity i was going to also ramble about lloyd but i put this post in a word count and
yea i think that's enough for a tumblr post anyways! If anyone wants any like. More logically thought out and direct thoughts about characters feel free to send me asks this was fun thank u @zaptrap for this opportunity to scream about jay
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