#but where are the movies in the middle who balance engaging our brains a bit as an audience but not spoon feeding it to us?

[novadreii]

I'm feeling like a dangerous woman today: Wes Anderson movies are pretentious and annoying as fuck, right?

[pines-troz]

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Three - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 7,652

AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/68854656

The big day had arrived and the two genetically altered lab mice were on top of their schedule. Brain had set his alarm clock to 6:00 AM. He and Pinky woke up and gathered their belongings. Brain decided to bring along his newly modified robotic man-suit just as a precaution. Once the mice were ready to go, Brain hopped into the pilot seat of his robot and placed their mouse-sized suitcases into his pants pocket. Pinky climbed up the suit and made himself snug as a bug in the front pocket. The intelligent mouse steered the suit and exited the lab at around 7:00 AM, about an hour before any of the scientists would arrive for work.

The mice made their way down the streets of Burbank and decided to have breakfast at a local diner. There, they spent a little of an hour consuming their morning meals and engaging in some casual conversation together.

By the time they arrived at the Warner movie lot, it was a quarter to nine, and the mice swung by the main office building to retrieve the credit card from Nora Rita Norita. When the mice made it to the top floor, Brain made his way over to her office and gingerly knocked on the door.

“Enter!” The CEO boomed from the other side.

Brain cautiously opened the door to find Ms. Norita in her workout attire stretching on the treadmill. She took the small towel and scrubbed the sweat off of her face before tossing it over the handle.

“You must be here for the credit card, I take it?” The businesswoman remarked as she eyed Brain’s robotic suit.

Brain wordlessly nodded while trying his best to muster his courage while confronting the higher-up. Ms. Norita went over to her desk, opened the drawer, and retrieved the golden credit card. Pinky’s eyes lit up upon seeing the glistening card again. He eagerly reached out for the card, enamored with its shimmering aura.

“Try not to have too much fun over the weekend, gentlemen.” Nora Rita Nortia humored in her flat voice as she gave Pinky the credit card, who immediately hugged it.

“We won’t,” Brain assured, trying to hide his anxiousness from the formidable businesswoman as he made his exit. “I guarantee you that Pinky and myself will have an appropriate amount of fun while supervising the Warner siblings.” With a nervous chuckle, Brain grabbed the doorknob and carefully closed the door on his way out.

Once the mice left Ms. Norita’s office, Brain exhaled and leaned up against the wall as he gazed at his partner. “Pinky, I would be a liar if I told you that the CEO was not the least bit intimidating.”

“I heard that, and I plan on using that information to my advantage.” Ms. Norita shouted from behind the door.

Brain’s eyes widened with terror. Now that the CEO knew his weakness and planned on exploiting it, he had no choice but to stay in her good graces in the foreseeable future.

“Very well.” He muttered as he made his way towards the elevator. “Pinky, hand me the cellphone. I’m going to arrange an Uber driver to pick us from the movie lot at noon.”

Pinky turned on the smartphone and smiled. “Hey Brain, we just got a text message from Dot!”

The pudgy mouse retrieved the phone from Pinky and read the message.

We’ll be outside the water tower by 11:45 <3

Once the mice left the office building, they killed some time by strolling around the movie lot and making idle chit-chat. They arrived at the water tower ten minutes beforehand where they patiently waited for the Warners to arrive. However, the three rambunctious siblings proved to be fashionably late.

Brain decided to make some small talk to make the time go by faster. “Well Pinky, I am fully prepared for whatever comes our way this weekend.” He announced as he checked his phone, the clock now reading 11:55 AM. “I even took the liberty of educating myself on the slang of today’s youth. Everything from vibe checks to poggers...I had to make sure that the latter word wasn’t a derogatory slur. Thankfully it’s just a synonym for an excited, surprised overreaction.”

“That’s wonderful, Brain!” Pinky complimented. “Did you do all that research just so you could relate to the kids?”

“What? No, I just wanted to have some comprehension of the contemporary vernacular.” Brain denied whilst waving his hand downwards. “Now, where are those children? Our driver will be here at any moment.” The pudgy mouse scanned the lot in search of the three siblings.

“Hellooooooo mice!”

The enthusiastic shouts from above startled the mice. They instinctively looked up to see the Warners wave at them before leaping off the water tower with their suitcases in tow. Brain stared in shock as the three kids made their descent. Acting swiftly, the smaller mouse managed to catch the children in his robotic arms right in the nick of time. Once the children and their belongings were safe in his arms, he stumbled backward, trying to support the combined weight of the Warners and their heavy luggage. Fortunately, the mouse was able to shift the levers in his suit and quickly maintained his balance.

As Brain let out a huge sigh of relief, Yakko and Wakko leaned in and smooched his cheeks. Dot gave Pinky a kiss on the cheek. “Naarf.” The lanky mouse bashfully replied upon receiving the friendly affection from the girl.

Brain, on the other hand, let out an amused snort as he gently lowered the children on the ground. “It’s nice to see you kids all excited for our little weekend getaway.”

Dot immediately had her sights set on the mechanical man-suit. She tapped at the suit’s knees then proceeded to grab a hold on the right arm, carefully inspecting it. “Oh Brain, is this a new model?” She inquired, sounding rather impressed.

“Why yes. I’ve made some modifications to the suit over the years.” Brain answered, pleasantly surprised that the Warner sister would take great interest in his work.

“So what hotel are we going to anyway?” Yakko asked. “The CEO didn’t really clue us in on where we’ll be staying.”

“She reserved us a deluxe queen room at The Ritz-Carlton.” Brain answered.

“A hotel made entirely of Ritz crackers!” Wakko eagerly exclaimed with their tongue hanging out. “Sounds scrumptious!” Even Pinky was excited by the notion of an edible hotel and licked his lips.

“That’s the name of the hotel, Einstein.” Dot corrected, causing Wakko and Pinky to let out a dejected groan.

Brain felt his smartphone vibrate and fished it from his pocket. He opened it up to find a message from the Uber driver.

“Come along children,” Brain alerted the Warners. “Our driver just arrived, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.” The Warners gathered their luggage and walked alongside Brain.

“Oh, we are going to have such a fun-fun, silly-willy weekend together!” Pinky joyfully declared while clapping his hands.

As the five walked exited the movie lot, Brain caught a glimpse of Nora Rita Norita, now dressed in her usual business attire, as she led a group of white-collar businesspeople to their important conference. The CEO pushed her glasses upwards as she stared at Brain, knowing his weakness. The mouse flashed a nervous smile and a thumbs up to assure her that he would complete his assigned task to the best of his ability. Once she turned her attention back to her associates, Brain exhaled in relief.

Once the group arrived at the studio entrance they spotted a blue minivan with an Uber sign parked by the sidewalk.

Brain took the time to pack everyone’s luggage into the trunk while the Warners took their spot. By the time the smaller mouse arrived in the car, everyone already took their place. Yakko sat in the middle seat while Wakko and Dot took the back seat.

“Pinky, come sit next to us!” Dot hollered as she patted the empty seat between her and Wakko.

“Okay!” Pinky chirped. Brain took Pinky from his coat pocket and handed him over to Dot, who placed him in the middle seat.

Brain took his place in the van next to Yakko. After shutting the door and buckling his seat belt, the driver took off.

In the backseat of the car, Wakko proceeded to take out his tablet and showed an image from his favorite anime to Pinky while Dot quietly looked on.

“I’ve been watching this cool show called Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood,” Wakko gushed while flapping his hands, which were cozily tucked inside his sweater sleeves. “So it’s about these two brothers, Edward and Alphonse Elric, who have to find the philosopher’s stone so they can get their bodies back, and on their journey, they come across all sorts of crazy characters!”

“That sounds incredible, Wakko!” Pinky exclaimed. But as the mouse looked at the image of the blonde boy and his brother in a suit of armor, Pinky began to feel confused. “So, uh, which one of the brothers is the robot?”

Meanwhile, in the middle seat, Brain was sitting awkwardly as Yakko had his white earpods on and jammed out to the songs on his smartphone. The mouse could only imagine what kind of music the boy was listening to that had him this excited. As he twiddled the man-suit’s thumbs, Brain looked out the window, pondering to himself as he watched the cars pass by on the freeway.

After a few moments of musing and taking in the scenery, he felt a gloved hand prod his cheek. The mouse looked over to see Yakko taking out one of his earpods.

“You wanna listen to some tunes?” Yakko offered. “My playlist is full of oldies music.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.” Brain obliged, accepting one of the white earpods. The intelligent mouse placed the small headphone into his left ear, expecting to hear pop music from the 1960s or old show tunes from the mid-twentieth century. But when Yakko pressed play, Brain was surprised to hear symphonious violins playing the main theme of ‘For Unto Us a Child is Born’, a chorus from the classic oratorio Messiah.

Brain looked over at the oldest Warner, who eagerly swayed in his seat, humming along to the song. “You weren’t kidding.” The mouse humored with a raised brow.

“Yup, George Fredic Handel’s Messiah is full of bangers!” Yakko proclaimed with a snap of his fingers.

Brain shrugged his shoulders and contentedly listened to the rest of the song. The eloquent mouse spent the rest of the car ride listening to the classical music on Yakko’s playlist.

Once the van arrived at the front of the hotel, the group retrieved their luggage from the back of the vehicle and Brain thanked the driver for their service while Pinky gave a friendly “Love you!”, to which Brain rolled his eyes at.

Once the group entered the hotel, the mice headed over towards the front desk to check in. Meanwhile, the Warners stood in awe as they drank in the scenery of the luxurious lobby. After taking in their surroundings, the siblings decided to release their manic energy in the lobby. Yakko and Dot immediately sprinted towards an empty sofa and started to bounce up and down. Wakko searched for something to stimulate his interest. Soon enough, the middle child found an abandoned gold bellman cart with red carpeting and knew what he had to do.

Meanwhile, The Brain was nearly complete with the check-in process as the front desk receptionist handed him three hotel keys: one for himself, one for Pinky, and one for the oldest Warner sibling.

“And here are your keys.” The employee said as she offered the three white cards over to the mouse. Using the robotic man-suit, Brain gingerly accepted the hotel keys from the receptionist.

“Thank you very much.” Brain politely acknowledged with a small nod.

“Enjoy your stay.” The receptionist smiled.

“You too,” Brain replied instinctively but winced when he realized his slip-up that the employee would not be staying in the hotel as a guest. “Wh-what I meant to say is have a good day.” The mouse attempted his conversational rebound with a nervous smile.

“Love you!” Pinky called out with a wave.

When Brain turned around, he scowled at his partner. “Pinky, you don’t have to say that to every person we converse with! Do you realize how uncomfortable you’re making them?”

“No, not really,” Pinky answered honestly as he climbed up to the suit’s shoulder so he could sit next to his partner. “I like to think that it makes their day a hundred times better!”

Just as Brain was about to come up with a witty retort, he saw the Warners were already causing playful pandemonium in the lobby. Yakko was driving the bellman cart, occasionally pushing his foot onto the ground to gain speed. Wakko and Dot were perched on top of the cart, with the Warner sister holding onto her sibling as they imitated the iconic Jack and Rose pose from Titanic. Wakko had his arms spread out while Dot placed her hands above her sibling’s side to keep them steady.

“I’m the king of the world!” Wakko cheered with their tongue hanging out.

Brain massaged his temple. “Of course, this is what I get for leaving the kids to their own devices.”

Pinky noted how stressed his partner was and decided to ameliorate the situation. He got out of the front pocket and climbed up on the robot’s left shoulder. Taking his fingers, he blew a sharp whistle out to the Warners, who immediately turned their attention over to the mice.

“Hey, kids!” Pinky called out to them. “We have the room keys so you can bounce around in the hotel room!”

“Okay!” They chorused as they pushed the bellman cart over to them. After they got off, the siblings placed their suitcases onto the cart. Pinky plopped down on the shoulder, pleased with the cooperative kids.

“Splendid work, Pinky.” Brain whispered into Pinky’s ear. The lanky mouse felt all blushy and gooshy when he felt his partner’s warm breath tickle his ear. Pinky giggled and instinctively wrapped his arms around himself to contain his feelings.

Yakko and Wakko pushed the cart over towards the elevator while Dot grabbed Brain by his robot’s hand, leading him and Pinky to the open elevator doors. One by one, they all entered inside. Wakko had their sights set on the buttons and immediately pressed all of them.

Brain looked at the illuminating floor buttons and released an exasperated sigh. “At least we’re only on the ninth floor.”

Once they reached the right floor, they all stepped off the elevator and walked through the corridor. The Warners trailed behind Brain until the mouse stopped at their destination: Room 920.

Brain used the hotel key and opened up the door to the hotel room. Two queen-sized beds, a flat-screen television, a leather couch, and an elegant bathroom. The room also had a phenomenal view of the city skyscrapers. Brain had to admit, the CEO clearly knew what she was doing when she booked the room for them.

Yakko and Dot awed in unison, their eyes glistening at the sight of their luxurious room. 

“Naaarf.” Pinky purred with eyes full of wonderment.

“Poggers! This is the coolest hotel room ever!” Wakko declared as he ran into the room. As Yakko and Dot followed their sibling into the room. As Brain closed the door behind him and entered the room, he glanced over at Pinky and flashed him a confident grin to indicate that his studies on current slang have paid off.

The Warners gathered on the sofa and observed the city below them, their faces pressed against the glass as they took in the glorious sight. Brain cast a small smile at the children’s sense of wonder.

Pinky stood upon the suit’s shoulder and launched himself onto the comfortable mattress. The mouse landed with a soft thud. The bed may not be as squishy and homey as the sponge bed, but he enjoyed its welcoming softness. Pinky started to roll around on the bed, laughing loudly while doing so.

Brain was pleased to see his partner enjoying himself. He climbed out of the pilot seat of the man-suit and hopped down onto the bed to accompany his partner.

“Now sleeping arrangements should be quite obvious,” Brain addressed to the Warners, who were still gazing at the city view from the windowsill. “you children will share the bed by the door, while Pinky and myself will share the other bed.”

“Egad Brain, I finally get to live out one of my favorite fan fiction tropes!” Pinky exulted.

“Pinky, we already sleep in the same bed together back in the lab.” Brain dryly reminded his partner of the sponge bed he specifically made for him and his roommate.

“Oh, right,” Pinky said. “But still, we have a whole mattress to ourselves!” The taller mouse crowed, catching Brain in a surprise hug. The smaller mouse instinctively kicked his stubby legs in the air as he tried to resist the forced physical contact. Once Pinky let Brain down, he held the smaller mouse’s hand and started to jump up and down on the bed. Once they gained momentum, Pinky twirled Brain around, causing the intelligent mouse to cry out in protest.

“Nyaaaaaahhh!!!” Brain shouted as he was being twirled around against his will.

Yakko looked away from the window to find the mice dancing atop the mattress. He budged his siblings to get their attention and gestured towards their weekend guardians. The three kids instinctively clamored their way towards the bed, wanting to join in on the fun. Once Yakko, Wakko, and Dot perched themselves on the mattress, they started to bounce up and down. Soon enough, they joined hands as they bounced around in a circle, giggling as they contributed to the merriment.

While Pinky was enjoying himself, Brain kept screaming. As the mice jumped around, Brain noticed that they were too close to the Warners. Brain maneuvered Pinky, guiding him away from the three pairs of feet. They narrowly avoided being stepped on by the kids. Brain needed this silliness to stop before Pinky got hurt.

“Everybody off the mattress!” The smaller mouse yelled from the top of his lungs. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot immediately leaped over to the other bed, obeying Brain’s command. Once the intelligent mouse composed himself, he looked over to see how frightened the Warners were with his tone of voice.

Brain was overcome with tremendous guilt. “I’m sorry. That came off harsher than I intended.” He ruefully apologized. “Perhaps we should go outside the hotel room and find some engaging and wholesome activities to partake in.”

The Warners put on their thinking faces as they tried to come up with a fun way to spend the afternoon. “How about going to the pool?” Dot offered with a snap of her fingers.

“What a brilliant suggestion, Dot.” Brain complimented. “Now, let us prepare for a fun afternoon by the pool!”

“Woo-hoo!” Pinky cheered.

“Count me in!” Yakko declared while Wakko and Dot gave each other an enthusiastic high five.

It took about twenty minutes for everyone to get ready for their poolside excursion. The mice and the Warners were appropriately dressed in their swimwear. Brain wore his green and yellow palm-tree patterned swim trunks while Pinky wore a blue and pink floral print tankini. Yakko wore green swim trunks, Wakko wore a blue swim shirt and red swim trunks, and Dot wore a purple one-piece suit and yellow sunglasses. Brain packed a blue beach bag filled with five towels and various bottles of sunscreen while Wakko added their pool toys into the bag. Once the beach bag was packed, Brain placed Yakko in charge of carrying their belongings.

The pool was located on the rooftop of the hotel, so they took the elevator up to the top of the building. The moment the elevator doors opened, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot eagerly sprinted towards the pool. The children were close to jumping in, but a booming voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Not so fast there, kids.” Brain alerted as he walked alongside Pinky, holding hands as he chided the children. “No one steps into that pool until all of you slather your bodies with sun lotion.”

Yakko and Wakko groaned, their shoulders sagging in defeat. Dot, on the other hand, took a moment to see the mouse’s reasoning. “Yeah, he has a point there.” She concluded.

The three children approached the deck chair the mice claimed. Yakko opened up the blue bag and took out the bottles of sunscreen, and gave the mouse-sized bottles over to the murine couple. The Warners quickly applied the sunscreen on their arms, legs, ears, tails, and noses.

After Brain applied a good amount of sunscreen all over his limbs, chest, and enormous head, he turned over towards Pinky, who covered his fur with the lotion.  

“Pinky, could you be a dear and coat my back with the SPF 50 sunscreen?” Brain asked.

“Well of course, Brain!” Pinky happily replied. Squirting an ample gob of lotion in his hands, the lanky mouse generously spread the white substance all over his partner’s back. Brain sighed with contentment as he felt Pinky’s gentle hands caressing his shoulder blades and working his way down his back.

“Yes!!!” Brain joyfully cried out as Pinky massaged his back with sunscreen.

Once the Warners protected their bodies with the sun lotion, they carried their aquatic toys and made their way over to the pool. Pinky retrieved his rubber duckie while Brain grabbed his mouse-sized pink inflatable pool chair.

The Warners splashed each other in the shallow end of the pool. Dot riding around on a blue pool tube while Yakko and Wakko whacked each other with limp styrofoam pool noodles. Brain drifted off in the middle of the pool, but kept a watchful eye on the kids. Pinky, who was mounted on his rubber ducky like a horseback rider on their equestrian steed, scooted over towards Brain. The lanky mouse desperately reached out his hand towards his partner.

Brain took notice of what Pinky was doing and turned to face him. “What are you doing?” He questioned.

“Poit! Why I’m trying to hold your hand,” Pinky strained as he kept extending his reach for his partner’s hand. “But I...can’t....reach…”

Brain sighed to himself and immediately took Pinky’s hand. The taller mouse’s eye lit up and smiled. Brain returned the smile as he locked onto Pinky’s eyes. Even though he knew Pinky for years, he could not get over how marvelously blue his eyes were. His eyes glistened like a sparkling sea during sunset. Then the smaller mouse blissfully closed his eyes as he held onto the mouse he loved.

Pinky kept his loving stare on Brain for what seemed like two minutes. When he decided to take a quick glance at the kids, he only saw Yakko playfully spinning Dot around on her pool tube in the shallow end.

“Brain,” Pinky alerted with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I can’t find Wakko anywhere!”

Brain’s eyes shot open and he turned over towards the shallow end, only seeing two of the three Warner siblings. The mice looked over their shoulder towards the deep end of the pool, only to find a grey fin menacingly swarming them.

“SHARK!!!” Pinky screamed as he tugged Brain away from danger. Pinky stumbled as he stood up on his rubber duckie and instantly fell into the water, dragging his partner along with him.

Once the mice reached the surface, Brain desperately clung to Pinky as the taller mouse swam for him and his partner’s lives towards the edge of the pool as quickly as he could. But the shark fin interfered with their escape route as it stopped right in the middle of their path.

Suddenly, the shark fin emerged from the water, and so did Wakko Warner.

“Hi!” Wakko greeted with a friendly smile. The middle child wore a grey shark fin over their red hat. “You like my cool fin strap?”

Pinky was overcome with relief upon seeing Wakko. “Oh, that fin looks lovely on you, Wakko! Troz!”

With an irritable frown, Brain shook his head and retrieved his pink pool float. The mouse continued to swim towards the edge of the pool.

“Oh thank goodness,” Pinky chuckled. “I forgot that sharks don’t live in swimming pools. Narf!” But the mouse’s smile faltered into an anxious frown. “...or do they? Brain, do sharks live in-” He turned towards his left expecting to see Brain there, but was shocked that he was gone. Pinky swam around only to find Brain already out of the pool, carrying his pink pool float.

“Brain!” Pinky called out to his partner. “Do sharks live in swimming pools?”

“No Pinky, they don’t!” Brain spat before he continued his way to the pool chair.

“Oh that’s a relief,” Pinky said. “For a second there I was starting to worry.”

Just as the mouse swam over to his rubber ducky, he noticed Wakko in a surprisingly somber mood.

“Is something wrong?” Pinky carefully asked.

“I hope Brain doesn’t hate me,” Wakko admitted, overcome with remorse.

“Poit! He would never hate you, Wakko.” Pinky assured. “He’s just a little grumpy is all. He just needs time to cool off.”

“I hope you’re right,” Wakko replied as he swam over to join their siblings.

Pinky joined the Warners at the shallow end of the pool. Yakko and Dot waved at the lanky mouse as he approached the siblings.

“Hey Pinky,” Dot asked. “Yakko and I were wondering what you and Brain have planned for tonight?”

“Oh, I already made a reservation at the karaoke parlor after dinner!” Pinky exclaimed. The mouse looked at the children, who all seemed excited at the idea of a karaoke session. Even Wakko started to cheer up the moment he heard the news. “But don’t tell Brain,” Pinky told the kids. “I want it to be a surprise! Zort!”

“Oh, I love surprises!” Wakko declared as he waved their hands in the air.

“That’s good to know.” Yakko casually responded before wrapping his arms around his sibling. The oldest Warner picked Wakko up, who kicked their feet in protest.

“Let me go!” Wakko chuckled as he tried to free themselves from the oldest Warner’s grasp.

“Okay, if you insist!” Yakko replied, tossing Wakko back into the pool. Pinky laughed and clapped his hands as he watched the silly sibling antics.

After getting out of the pool, Brain walked over towards the blue bag to retrieve his latest invention: a folding web chaise pool chair with a manual crank attached to a metal harness that functioned as an elevator. The sole purpose of the device was to make jacuzzis and hot tubs more accessible to mice such as himself.

Brain walked over to the jacuzzi and secured his device by the pool’s edge. He then took a seat in the pool chair and used the crank to descend into the hot tub. The mouse stopped the crank once the bubbling water reached his chest. Brain placed his hands behind his head and let out a blissful sigh. The mouse looked over at the children, who were playing some sort of pool game. Brain decided to appreciate the moment of solitude while he still had it.

A few minutes later, Dot got out of the pool, shaking the water from her hair. Placing her sunglasses on, she spotted Brain and walked over towards the jacuzzi.

“Room for one more?” The Warner sister inquired.

“By all means.” Brain invited, and the girl settled herself in the hot tub.

“Wakko wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry for that little prank earlier.” Dot informed him.

The mouse felt a pang of guilt for his reaction to Wakko’s antics. He may have been upset that the middle child had ruined the peaceful moment between Pinky and himself, but the mouse held no ill will against Wakko for messing around.

“I’ll soon inform them of my forgiveness.” Brain replied. “I know that Wakko had no malicious intentions with their little joke.”

Dot nodded, happy to know that the mouse didn’t hold any grudges against her older sibling. “So, are you enjoying yourself?” She asked while adjusting her sunglasses.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Brain answered honestly. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m having a lot of fun!” Dot eagerly replied. “Although I must admit, I need some time for myself. My older siblings can be too much at times.”

“I can empathize with the sentiment.” Brain agreed. “Pinky can be a little too outgoing and energetic at times.”

Dot nodded and hummed. “Say, you wanna know some fun facts about Yakko and Wakko?” She playfully asked.

“Oh, do tell.” Brain answered with an intrigued smile.

“Okay, so Wakko always does this thing where he copies the behavior of people he admires.” Dot explained. She looked over at the pool, and pointed towards her older siblings. “Watch closely!”

Brain focused his attention on the Yakko, who scooped a handful of water and threw it up in the air. Wakko followed suit, mimicking their older brother’s movements.

“Fascinating…” Brain commented as he watched the older Warner siblings.

“And Yakko normally stays in the shallow end of the pool because he can’t swim.” Dot informed him.

“Really?” Brain questioned. “How?”

“He never bothered.” Dot candidly answered. “He tried taking swim lessons back in the nineties, but he got kicked out because he was too busy making googly eyes at the swim instructors and lifeguards.”

“How am I not surprised,” Brain dryly responded.

“And as a heads up, Yakko can’t consume anything with lactose.” Dot said with a twinge of sadness.

“Duly noted.” Brain acknowledged. “I suppose I should tell Pinky to put in dairy substitutes if he wants to make his world-famous cheesecake for Yakko in the foreseeable future.”

“Hold the phone, Pinky can bake!?” Dot asked excitedly with glistening eyes.

“Absolutely! Pinky can whip up all sorts of pastries and confectioneries, ” Brain remarked. “Cheesecakes, cannolis, macaroons, eclairs, crème brule,” Brain listed before curling his fingers, pressing them to his lips for a passionate chef’s kiss. “They’re simply magnifique!”

“Wakko is definitely gonna have a field day with Pinky if he ever knew that.” Dot remarked.

“Oh, indubitably.” Brain affirmed with a nod.

Back in the pool, Wakko looked over to see Dot having a pleasant conversation with Brain. The middle child thought about what Pinky said, that the smaller mouse needed time to chill before he was fine. He could apologize to Brain and try their hardest to show the mouse how to have fun without coming off as mean or hurtful. Wakko finally worked up the courage to approach Brain again.

The middle child turned over to Yakko, who lifted Pinky up in the air. The mouse giggled as he splashed into the pool. “I’m gonna swing by the jacuzzi, I’ll be right back!” He informed the two.

Pinky resurfaced and waved at Wakko. “Okay, have fun!”

After getting out of the pool, Wakko carefully thought about the best way to approach his sister and the smaller mouse. He looked back to their older brother, who launched Pinky back in the air for another splash in the pool.

Wakko smiled, knowing what he needed to do. He knelt down in a runner’s starting position as their sights set on the jacuzzi. The middle child then broke out into a sprint.

“Hey fellas!” Wakko exclaimed. Brain and Dot turn their gaze over to the middle child as he sprinted towards the jacuzzi. Brain’s eyes widened, anticipating the upcoming disaster that was sure to happen.

“Cannonball!” Wakko sang as he launched himself in the air, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around his legs.

Before Brain could react, Wakko plunged straight into the middle of the hot tub. The splash launched Brain about ten feet up in the air. The mouse looked over at the city skyline and back down at the hot tub with a sense of dread.

“Oh dear lord...” He exasperatedly remarked as he began his swift descent.

“Nyaaaaahhhh!!!!!” Brain screamed helplessly. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst. But instead of making a crash landing onto the hard ground, he landed in a soft cottony material. He reluctantly opened his eyes and realized that he was inside Wakko’s red hat.

A hatless Wakko looked at Brain with a mix of relief and embarrassment. “Sorry!” 

“Wakko, you must never jump into the jacuzzi like that!” Brain berated. “You could have seriously hurt yourself!”

Wakko winced upon receiving his scolding. “I know…” He mumbled, their eyes shamefully cast downwards.

Brain felt his heart go out to Wakko upon seeing the regret on their face. Then the mouse’s frown melted away, turning into a soft smile. “And I want to thank you for saving me.” He gently praised the Warner sibling, causing them to look back at the mouse. “I would have entered a world of pain had it not been for your creative thinking and nimble reflex.”

Wakko beamed at Brain, glad that the mouse wouldn’t stay mad at them for the duration of the trip. “You’re welcome!” He happily replied as he scooped the mouse from their hat, placing it back on their head.

But a loud whistle broke the tender moment. Wakko, Dot and Brain looked over at a physically fit lifeguard, who wore a stern face as he marched towards them. The three braced themselves for a reprimanding speech on pool safety.

Yakko noticed this from the pool, and he had to think up something to get them off the hook. He looked to Pinky, who was climbing out of the pool, and came up with a surefire solution. The oldest Warner approached Pinky and whispered something into his ear. After a moment, Pinky gave the oldest Warner a thumbs up. Yakko gently picked Pinky up and placed him out of the pool.

Pinky took a few steps from the pool and started howling in pain. “Oh ho ho, I hurt me foot!”

The lanky mouse clutched onto his right foot and rolled around on the ground, pretending to writhe in agony. “Oh ho ho, I hurt me foot!” Pinky wailed as tears sprinkled from his eyes. “Oh, the pain! The agony! Narf!”

The lifeguard then moved towards the downtrodden mouse. Yakko quickly got out of the pool and gathered the blue beach bag and motioned towards his siblings and Brain to follow his lead. Wakko placed Brain on top of their hat, and followed Yakko and Dot as they fled from the scene while the lifeguard was distracted. The children and the mouse arrived at the elevator. Brain pressed on the button, hoping that the doors would open fast enough before the lifeguard could detect them. Fortunately, their desperate pleas were answered as the elevator doors opened. One by one, the four flooded inside the elevator.

Once Pinky saw that the four successfully made it by the elevator, he stopped crying and stood up on his feet. “Oh, I’m feeling better now!” He said in his usual cheerful voice before he skipped along his merry way towards the elevator doors. “Love you!” Pinky called out to the lifeguard.

The lifeguard stared at the mouse in befuddlement. “Love you too?” He muttered with a hesitant wave.

Once Pinky made his way in, Dot pressed the button to close the elevator doors and the button for floor nine. The doors swiftly closed and the group made their descent down to their sanctuary. When they were safe at last, Yakko cackled aloud and soon his siblings and the mice joined in, breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I can’t believe that actually worked!” Dot exclaimed.

Brain hopped down from Wakko’s hat and approached the lanky mouse. “Good work, Pinky.” He complimented as he patted his partner’s shoulder. “You’re acting is as believable as ever.”

“Aw that’s nice Brain, but I can’t take all the credit,” Pinky explained with pink-tinted cheeks. “it was Yakko’s bright idea to create a diversion to get you three out of trouble.”

Brain looked over towards the oldest Warner and smiled. “Well Yakko, I admire your clever thinking.”

Yakko was overjoyed by the compliment, smiling gratefully at the intelligent mouse. “Hey, I’m always happy to help!”

The smaller mouse smiled back at the oldest Warner before turning his attention to the middle child. “And as for you Wakko, I recognize that you didn’t mean any trouble with your little shark fin stunt earlier and there’s no use in dwelling over what happened. It’s all water under the bridge.”

Wakko felt a wave of relief wash over and he softly smiled at the smaller mouse.

Once the elevator stopped on their floor, the five got out and made their way back to the hotel room.

“Well, I hope you all enjoyed our little poolside adventure, for I am certain that we won’t be welcomed back after our little scene.” Brain remarked. “But no matter, I already took into consideration other engaging and wholesome activities for the weekend, many of which aren’t limited to the confines of the hotel.”

Once they reached the door to their room, Yakko retrieved his key and inserted it in the metal lock. The green lights blinked from the lock, indicating that they were allowed access in the room. The oldest Warner opened up the door and allowed everyone else to walk in first before he entered.

Brain climbed up the nightstand. “Now I want you all to change from your swimwear into your finest attire, for we’ll take to the streets for tonight’s dinner!” Brain explained.

The Warners gave Brain a serious salute before racing towards the bathroom door. Dot managed to get in first, slamming the door behind her older siblings.

The next half-hour was spent getting prepared for their evening of fun. The siblings scoured through their packed suitcases to find their best attire to wear. Dot put on her Spotify playlist from the tablet, not that it bothered Brain in the least. In fact, he thought that the Warner sister had splendid taste in music, as her playlist consisted of pop music from the 80s and 90s.

Brain, now dressed in his light blue blazer and a cream collared shirt. He looked in the mirror as he adjusted his red tie whilst discreetly singing along to Kiss From A Rose. “Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey. Ooh, the more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah.” The eloquent mouse crooned.

Pinky was settled on the bed, dressed in his checkered green suit jacket and blue bowtie, smiling contentedly as he listened to Brain sing and imagined that he was singing for him and him alone. The lanky mouse admired the way his partner could carry a tune along with his seductive voice. Oh how he could listen to Brain sing all day. Pinky was always quick to compliment Brain’s singing and tried to encourage him to showcase his talents to the world, but the big-headed mouse vehemently denied that request time and time again.

Pinky needed to find a way to pretend that he was busy with another activity so as to avoid suspicion from his partner. He hopped over to the nightstand where he found the hotel brochure. Surely there were plenty of pretty pictures to look at. But as he picked up the laminated pamphlet, he discovered the sparkling gold credit card that the CEO bestowed to him and Brain.

“Naaarf!” Pinky admired. The mouse picked up the credit card and placed it on the pillow. Pinky laid down on the mattress and propped his head in his hands as he gazed on the card’s entrancing glow.  

Brain hopped back on the bed and looked over at Pinky, who was admiring the shimmering credit card. The pudgy mouse shook his head and walked over to his partner. Brain chuckled upon seeing how enamored Pinky was with the glimmering card.

“I see you’re enchanted by the credit card.” Brain observed astutely.

Pinky eagerly nodded his head. “It’s like watching the baby sun from the Teletubbies! Troz!”

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” He inquired with a cheeky grin.

“I think so Brain, but what if my milkshakes can’t bring all the boys to the yard?” Pinky asked anxiously.

“No Pinky, I was not referring to your dreams of opening an ice cream shop or your chest, as soft and comfortable as it is.” Brain berated as his cheeks blushed to a dark shade of red.

“You’re darn right, mister!” Pinky confirmed with a nod.

“The CEO informed us that she will pay for any additional expenses we make over the weekend. I intend to take advantage of her little gesture of kindness by making as many extravagant purchases as possible!” Brain eagerly explained with a devious smile. “And treating you and the kids to an elegant, fine-dining experience will be the first stop in our weekend spending spree!”

“Zounds Brain,” Pinky awed, but he then remembered what he had in store for the evening. “But we have to make sure that we finish dinner before 7:00 because I already made plans for a fun bonding activity with the kids at 7:30!”

Brain frowned at the thought of Pinky planning something without his input. “What plans?” Brain interrogated.

“Oh, I can’t tell you. I want it to be a surprise!” Pinky gleefully answered.

“I can hardly wait.” Brain responded sardonically. “Very well, I’ll try to find any upscale restaurants within the area, and make a reservation for six o’clock.” The intelligent mouse said as he scrolled through his smartphone. The CEO entrusted him and Pinky with the company credit card and, darn it, he was going to treat himself, his partner, and the kids to an expensive dinner at a fancy restaurant!

“Hey Brain?” He heard Wakko speak.

Brain put his phone aside and looked at the middle child, who was wearing a red cavalier hat with a blue feather sticking up from the side, a white tunic, and a musketeer tabard with the colors of the Non-Binary flag. The mouse was not surprised by Wakko’s unconventional fashion sense, but he certainly admired the middle child’s bold choice of wardrobe. “Yes, Wakko?”

“Can we go to McDonald’s for dinner?” Wakko eagerly asked.

“McDonald’s?” Brain scoffed. “Why on earth would you want to have serviceable fast food when we could easily go to any one of the more elegant eateries in the city?”

“Because other restaurants don’t have Big Macs.” Wakko answered with a confident nod.

Yakko and Dot soon came out from the bathroom and stood beside Wakko. Yakko was dressed in a black leather jacket and a white T-shirt in addition to his signature brown slacks. Dot wore a purple pantsuit, a white collared shirt, and a pearl necklace.

“Yeah, and it’s been ages since we last went to McDonald’s.” Yakko explained, backing up his younger sibling.

“And what other restaurant could provide a relaxed, down-to-earth atmosphere tailor made for the average American family?” Dot added with great conviction.

Brain was secretly impressed with the Warners’ gumption and steadfast determination, but he had to remind the children who’s boss.

“Oh no, I remember all of those times you annoyed me into taking you to McDonald’s back in the nineties!” Brain remarked with an exasperated tone of voice. “Well, I am here to inform you that my fortitude has hardened considerably over the years, and this little song and dance won’t work on me again!”

Yakko looked over at his siblings with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.  “McDonald’s! McDonald’s!” The eldest Warner started chanting. Wakko and Dot immediately joined in. “McDonald’s! McDonald’s! McDonald’s!”

As the Warners chanted, The Brain crossed his arms, grumpily standing his ground. He was the adult in the situation and he would not bow down to the whims of the children. But the mouse was shocked to see his dearest partner join the children’s crusade, chanting alongside them.

“McDonald’s! McDonald’s!” Pinky exclaimed, pumping his arms in the air.

“Pinky! Who’s side are you on!?” Brain snapped exasperatedly.

“Poit! The one with the happy meals.” Pinky sheepishly replied with a shrug.

Brain knew he was outnumbered and outpowered. As much as he wanted to have an exquisite dinner at a high-end restaurant, he had to give the kids (and his partner) what they wanted. With an annoyed sigh, he held up his hands and surrendered to the sassy children's demand.

“Alright, we’ll have dinner at McDonald’s!” The Brain announced, eliciting cheers from the Warners and Pinky. The smaller mouse held up his hand, pointing his finger upwards to assure his dominance over the group.

“But if you children even think about causing anymore trouble under my supervision, then I shall sell you to the zoo!” Brain sternly warned. The mouse knew he was making an empty threat, and the children probably knew that as well, but he wanted to ensure that they would be on their best behavior while they were out on the town.

“We’ll be good,” Yakko affirmed before turning over to Wakko and Dot. “Right sibs?”

“We promise.” The younger Warner siblings chorused, smiling as golden halos appeared above their heads. Dot flashed a confident grin while Wakko wore a more nervous smile.

“Good.” Brain curtly nodded. The mouse climbed up the sleeve of his robotic suit, walked along the left shoulder, and settled himself in the driver’s seat. “Now let’s go.”

AN: And so the fun officially begins!

So originally this chapter was supposed to be longer, but as I was filling in the details, I realized that it was too long, so I decided to divide it into two parts (with part one being over 19 long lol) So consider this chapter to be part one of the Mice and Warners cause shenanigans on a Friday.

This chapter was so much fun to write because it gave me the opportunity to explore the dynamics between the two parties. 

Pinky would definitely be the more affectionate one of the two, doting on the Warners and giving them lots of positive attention. He would have the strongest connection with Dot, since she finds him very cute and she’s always quick to compliment him and show him affection. Pinky and Wakko are both fun-loving, but naive and they’re always looking to have a good time. Yakko would love to make Pinky laugh because that boy craves validation for his humor and Pinky is the easiest to please since that mouse loves almost anything and he would find Yakko hilarious. 

Brain is the responsible, but tired one who puts up with their shenanigans, but also respects the kids and finds them endearing. He and Yakko would have back and forth banter. Despite the two of them not always seeing eye to eye, Brain is quick to praise Yakko’s more positive attributes. Wakko just loves Brain, and Brain shares the sentiment despite the two of them having opposite personalities. In the next chapter, we get to see more of their relationship. With Dot having wit, Brain is able to connect to her the easiest, as the two of them would share intellectual conversations and spill some gossip as well. 

The pool section was fun to write as I managed to come up with a lot of crazy shenanigans as well as quieter moments between the characters. 

The McDonald’s bit was a lot of fun to write, and yes it was inspired by the classic McDonald’s alignment chart (“McDonald’s! McDonald’s! McDonald’s!”, “We have food at home.”, *Pulls into the drive thru as children cheer* *orders a single black coffee and leaves*), The Warners and Pinky would definitely be chanting for McDonald’s while Brain would be that one of those folks who orders a black coffee lol!

Thanks for reading! 

[taendrils]

the heartbeat challenge | 1

― ❝things never work in your favour when you run out of fucks to give, and right when you do heaven seems to throw the seed of evil right into your arms, or more precisely on the corridor to your college dorm. you swore an oath to hate the XY population, blood and pinkies and everything- but namjoon, the shy brunet helping you with your sister’s wedding has always been a man of science- and he seems to love testing just how much he can make you tick.❞

• pairing: namjoon/female reader  • genre: fluff, comedy, a college rom-com, semi-wedding planner a.u • warnings: slow burn, swearing, mentions of sexism and unhealthy dynamics in literature • wordcount: 16k words

a/n: this fic contains satire interpretation of a ‘man-hating’ oc. oh and a very cute namjoon. also this is my longest fic/series thing up to date. cheers and let’s enjoy.

“And a toast to the young couple!”

The people sprawled across the joined tables cheered, the sound of champagne glasses clinking and the sound of friends laughing in delight pleasant to your ears. Few things in life could beat the sensation of hearing nothing but sounds of happiness around, and you took it all in–letting your head fall back and closing your eyes, barely keeping yourself from raising your arms in the air. Between the winter midterms and the inter-semestrial break filled with nothing but volunteer work where you’d encounter children screaming on schedule and coming home to find your love interest–a.k.a the latest lesson chapters all spread out on the kitchen table–at last, you could say that you felt relaxed. One moment ready for the history books where this sort of happiness surrounded you, and one you deserved for sure.

Maybe you deserved it because the earrings you had been wearing for the past five hours insisted on pulling your entire earlobe off or at least fight for their custody, and some part of your knee still stung as a reminder to never rush with blades on your legs again. Especially at eight in the morning when a hyper Yuna who resembled the children you interacted with more than enough swayed into your room like a fairy of adult representatives–clipboard in hand and face lacking any concern. She resembled her corporate supervisors down to the hem of her tailored coat, ready to check every item that met the standards from her list and glare at anything else that didn’t. For her, it sounded like the perfect plan.

For you? Not so much.

She started out with your room, sending daggers to the dust on your nightstand before shifting her eyes to you. Or what was supposed to be you, hidden between three pairs of pants and a nest of messy hair, suitcase left open in the carpet’s middle and the rest of the clothes thrown out at random. A fallen soldier with hopes as high as the sky, but nowhere near ready to get struck with by the chains of femininity and requirement to socialize.

You know, like she didn’t tell you about her engagement party a whopping two days ago, as you were in combat to recover the countless days of sleep that you lost this semester in like, eight hours.

At first, living a quarter of your life with sleep deprivation, you thought you were imagining things, or you made unintentional contact with the spirit world in your attempts at meditation and regaining the self you lost as the years of education progressed. But no, here she was, diamond sparkling in artificial light like a laser pointed towards a jail sentence, focused on you. You didn’t dare to open your eyes, fear tap dancing as it travelled in slow motions across your spine at the chance that said light could hit you right in the pupil.

Spineless as you were, you allowed her to drag you along to whatever beauty rituals were going on in the household, passing a tray of cookies that you could blame on Minho’s choices for sure. Maybe the date too, with his impatience and competitive streak coming together to create the best party in the shortest time. To be honest, you had no idea about any of their whereabouts.  And hours later, between passive-aggressive calls, Hyoyeon arguing with staff as she watched last night’s MMA match, and a bright-eyed Minho swatching tissues to figure out the best colour coordination, you found yourself at a much bigger location, with everything that you dreaded next to you.

Namely, men.

Sure, you enjoyed making people happy and an enjoying an easygoing atmosphere; you were a firm believer (or someone who strived to be) in a life without worries, and thus every moment spent smiling brought you a hair closer to your goal. But men were... well. You’d leave that for them to explain.

Now, confronting the statement, people might think that you suffered from an attention-starving syndrome. Did you? Perhaps. The possibility was out there, far away, like your toleration for the male sex, but a self-grasp told you that your hate did not arise out of being ignored. Not that you were Miss Popularity ever or had friends more than you could count on your toes all high school. One could say, you did well enough to float in the middle of the spectrum–you were not demonized for not appealing to them, but neither did you get a confession or even guys from your parallel classes sliding into your Facebook messages using the classic ‘sup’. Oh, the tragedy of missing so much in life.

In fact, if you take time to think about it, that’s been your signature in most of your endeavours. Existing in the middle of any crowd. From a family standpoint, you weren’t able to shine like your sisters–Yuna being a signed model, recognised for her kindness and charming personality and Hyoyeon resembling the movie-version of a female badass–a no-nonsense boxing trainer. Each of them challenged the norms in their own way, subverting femininity or straight up refusing to conform to it and then... there was you.

That Feminist. Loud and a little annoying. Struggling with both.

The fact that they had settled and formed their own lives and routines while you skated on dry land through college didn’t help either. When you hung out with them, the reminder made you cower a little, fold yourself back into the shell you developed in your younger years from the lack of stability you experienced. You heard a lot about their boyfriends too– fiance and boyfriend, and from what you collected Minho seemed nice enough for a model, not to mention Hyoyeon’s doctor boyfriend, and you learnt to put up with them. Somehow.

However, you weren’t familiar with the faces to your right at the linear table, making it impossible to prevent having your mouth glued shut the entire time the photographer told each of you to smile and blinding you with the lights. Because here was the thing.

You had a blank face. A resting bitch face, like some said, or a woman not smiling face, as you liked to call it. You wanted to express your excitement, you really did, but the thought that your sister would soon be trapped close to forever in a relationship that could only be broken off if she gave her car, or worse–her TV screen held onto the corners of your mouth just like those damn earrings. Hence why, instead of expressing unfiltered joy over Yuna’s engagement, this time official, ring and fancy place rented, you looked like the personification of a rocking chair. Giving occasional nods as if you absorbed all information regarding next week’s weather.

Shame on them for dolling you up like this, hair parted, pretty braids tight on your scalp and orange dress making you look like a fairy. A fairy protecting the pumpkins and other agricultural crops, puffy sleeves moving like waves with your every movement and pleated fabric brushing over smooth thighs. Thighs you gave your blood, sweat and tears to.

Did you deserve to sit next to a man, all beautiful like this? What wrong have you done?

Since you were a child, you gained knowledge about the prices one had to pay to achieve happiness, and to restore the balance, with the peaceful music in the background and smiles in harmony to match it to your left, red wine you had been eyeing all evening on the other side, came the existence of the man. A tall gentleman with hair gel that spread to his brain, and whose arms were too big to stay by his sides, hence why he was taking up all the space on the table and separating you from your one true love. What was left to do, you pouted, interact with him and get into a potential discussion of how you can correct flabby arms, or risk your joints by stretching all across the table so you’d snatch the other one?

Not in the mood for a gym discussion in a trying time, you got up and used the remaining flexibility skills you had to bend across three welcoming faces. The liquid was so close now, its proximity tempting you and charming you into a trance. You wanted to experience this intimate moment, and to assure no one would pay attention to it– having you adverting your eyes to the table parallel to yours... making contact with your greatest enemies.

Your sister, with Minho and his mother who lit up at the sight of you. “Here she is, our youngest!”

She was a nice woman, short perm smoothing over the ends of her cheekbones. A figure that stood up to her son’s forearm, gentle and caring. As a general rule, you loved being in her presence, but you were already sensing the wrinkles forming as your eyes almost screwed shut with how hard you tried to raise the corners of your mouth. Not like you minded one bit, only one part of you wishing to avoid witnessing the impending disaster of interacting with her at social events.

Getting back into a normal position, you let your hand drop off the bottle, fingers longing for the coldness and bowed right as she averted her gaze to the chair you had been sitting on, then to the unknown guest. “And this must be your date?”

Your eyes widened, reaching to touch her only to have your hands freeze midway. “Oh, no, no way–I don’t have a date.”

“How come? Look at you, you’ve filled out so well,” she smiled as she squeezed the extra weight on your hips. To admit, the praise added a few points to your self-esteem meter, but it was no match to the aggravation you experienced in her presence because she had to ask about the other set of chromosomes at each meeting. It was part of the old lady gossip: asking about graduation, when you will get a job, oh and also if you’re not married by twenty-two when are you picking up a man so they can open another question folder. The one branded with a guaranteed approval stamp, none other than ‘when will you have grandkids’.

Insistent question marks to follow it soon after despite you not being related.

“I came to celebrate these two. I’m not looking for one right now,” you said, hoping your tone sounded polite in the least bit. Being accustomed to old ladies, who made up in curiosity for all they lost in height was a full-time job you never stopped learning from.

“Are you staying celibate? Waiting to save yourself for ‘the one’?” she inquired further. Here we go.

“Yeah, course she is.” Minho puffed, letting out a laugh. “For the One Lord Jesus Christ, you mean.”

“Amen. I will find my way, I’m sure,” you took a step back, attempting to return to your chair.“This family needed a cat lady anyway. You guys will be beautiful at 35 and all that, and I’ll be having my wrinkles illuminated by the laptop screen.”

“Coding?” Yuna supplied.

You took it as one of the instances to use your fake smile.“That’s plan A. If it fails, I’ll resort to the worse: write fanfiction in various locations.” Plan B was always ‘Embarrass yourself to the point they don’t talk to you out of their own will’. And get money.

“Oh, come on–”

“I could be in your basement and you won’t know it because Arnold Augustine the Third keeps wailing from the milk temperature.” you leaned your head forward, mimicking the way you sat while you typed on the keyboard, “Clickety clickety clickety clack, clickety clickety clack clack.”

“There is no way I would name our kid that.”

You pursed your lips. “Well, tell your fiance here who made me create an Instagram page to ‘keep the name’.”

His mother stood there with a tight-lipped mouth, the kind of expression others had when you weren’t close enough for them to get the joke, giving back the same forced politeness you gave a minute ago.“I can always introduce you to somebody, child.”

Minho tapped the beautiful girl four seats from you, whispering to her as she passed him the wine, and sometimes you envied him and Yuna for being so in-sync because the next second she was holding out a glass to you as he poured away the bottle’s contents. The drink matched the shade of her velvet floor-length gown, you noted, and if you thought you resembled a fairy of autumn, she was the season’s goddess.

“She’s enjoying herself enough, trust me,” her fiancé added as she passed you the glass. “I think we should check on uncle as well, don’t you love?”

Releasing a breath you’ve been holding for the entire meeting, you sat down, finally pouring the entire glass in your throat in one go, pose relaxing soon after. However, something bothered you–the feeling from this morning still lingered on your legs, little droplets of blood making your knee itch until you found a chair corner to relieve the sensation. Your knee moved farther, knocking into something solid. More accurate description provided, knocked into a muscled thigh fighting to rip out of a blue suit.

“Don’t have a date, huh?” the man grinned as he rubbed his leg against yours. Interpreting your gesture as romantic, movie flirting? Oh God. “Youngho, I’m a bodybuilder.”

A tab opened in your head to search for the profession: male thot job #1.

“Oh no, no no. No, thank you. I am here for the wine,” you explained, “I have a boyfriend.”

Yes, the wine. And the side piece was mango chicken.

“A lady shouldn’t drink so much. It’s not good for you,” he gave you a gentle smile, and you laced yours with the gentlest of ironies as you replied.

“A gentleman shouldn’t give unsolicited advice to strangers.”

He turned back to his plate, and you added another face to the history of guys who disappointed you on the first meeting, struggling to make space on your brain’s list.

Starting with your first crush, a basketball player who acted so nice with you and even pretended to know half the math you did to get close to you and work together. The joy was he seemed quicker to make fun of you for your moustache to his friends whenever they questioned your closeness. Second one, same field but a smaller ball to throw around, as sweet as they come, got bored with your dynamic when he met another girl who liked trap and Rammstein. The third one didn’t even know you existed–not that you were doing much to attract his attention either as you spent half your time staring at his hands and vintage shoes.

Then you considered the what ifs. If you wracked your brain enough, you could still remember the second date you went to at seventeen, eyes holding onto the remaining flicker of hope. Immersed into the memory, you recalled the way your pompadour partner, beer in hand, gave a detailed explanation not of your beauty, but of how much he hated communism and ‘feminazis’. After that, you lost count of the large-shouldered figures passing your life and focused your curiosity on said feminazis. Cool girls that, like you, realized long ago how the key to feminism didn’t have to do with hating men but happened to support the cause.

Attention syndromes aside, you didn’t lack ‘experience’ either. Didn’t even know what people considered experience. You kissed a lot of boys in truth or dares when you were fourteen (and man did you think you were doing something). Also, you were good at faking interest for dares when all you wanted to do was kiss them. Who would have thought you’d end up with a profound dread for the male sex? A good portion of the population who interacted with guys over sixteen, it clicked to you. After your discovery, you wished you could form a society made up of girls that were unfortunate enough to be attracted to those they hated. Yes, we exist, you wanted to say.

A capital flaw that turned you off beyond belief (not that they ever turned you on in the fun way beyond your bedroom and in the outside world) was their lack of dependability, besides opening their mouth. Your high school best friend, Yoongi, you remembered him as one of the most kind-hearted people that you knew. You could have almost said him alone showing this much humanity had been enough to clean the stains of his gender’s reputation, and yet. There’d always been that one little detail that proved to you that Yoongi was indeed a man.

Case in point: the one time in senior year in which you needed a photocopy for your album that required you to search half a town for. It went well, except for the fact that between seven bus stations you still weren’t sure whether they had the machine for it. And Yoongi being a few steps away from the store couldn’t bother to ask about it on the premise of ‘being sick’. Also, who could forget your high school sweetheart, Jungkook, your athlete deskmate who called a lovesick you for the first time during a presentation to ask you whether you’d join his clan in Dragon City.

Spoiler: they didn’t do photocopies there. But at least you contributed to the pay of bus drivers as you succumbed to breeding dragons ready for war.

The realisation came in at a much later time. Although the crushes came and fleeted and you had a greater chance than others at being smitten from the first three conversations with anyone, there was a territory you hadn’t adventured into. No longer did you bother to explain the heavier reasons, the tear-jerkers and mood ruiners. At the time you’d choose to go with the simple alternative.

You had never cared for a man, and you never planned to.

The standards raised. You became mature; you hated men. And nothing could have convinced you otherwise.

At least the free booze on table five distracted you from it.

So, about The Feminist.

The roots of this reputations had been foreign to you since you didn’t talk to many people outside of your dorm or classes. Even while volunteering, you kept it with the three friends you went there with, not making an effort to be social more than that. On the occasion, you’d act out to pull the laughs out of your friends and didn’t bother to scan the people watching, therefore it became a mystery to you how your first impression switched between a clown and the aluminium tinfoil hat.

You had your fair shares of conversations with frat boys in your freshman year when you were a small bundle of hate. Even then, as you expressed your opinions they twisted your words, mocked you as you kept to politeness while conversing. ‘I thought you didn’t like men’, they’d say with a smug face, carrying on with expressions which made you sneer. From the other side, your tinfoil sons and daughters, you heard about your supposed plans to go to Law School only to get into the government and implement liberalism and laws to limit their rights.

Well, they had the spirit but messed it up at the end. Not wrong but not true either. Sounded like another back-up plan in case it went wrong with computers. You ended up being a famous case in the ethics classes you took before you decided on coding, all gritted teeth and ready to eat guys who substituted a personality with monotonous voices and wearing glasses. Despite the events which to this day made you more reluctant to express yourself, you still frequented some classes related to the humanities field: you remained in gender studies and literature.

One of which you were currently sitting in, on the edge for the last hour due to today’s theme of discussing novels of experience. Ten minutes left and your wings would be free, with no hint of annoyance or anger for the entire day. An achievement uncommon for a lesson requiring creativity and freedom of belief, which you loved expressing but avoided hearing.

Creativity had its perks and downsides. One of them was that everyone was allowed to manifest it in one way or another, which left space for questionable fiction not only to be created but to be discussed and theorized over in academic circles. Such example you didn’t want to experience again had been the latest reading assignment, one of the choices for today’s topic. Most of your classmates who chose to present had ventured into other choices, letting you live and catering to your neurons. Until you heard the incantation.

“Based on a definitory experience in 1929, the book which puts to light the tragic heroine bearing the same name explores the idea of retrospection, of relieving a love whose absence leaves the individual…”

Leaves them blessed that they didn’t read such bullshit. You rolled your eyes, remembering the read you got through during winter break, the slowest 120 pages of your life. A tint of sadness seeped through the anger building in your loins, threatening to overflow. The rest of the emotions you learned in high school psychology came to you in their order. Starting with the disgust you felt at the author’s description of the young girl which were both infantilizing and barbaric, marking her bright presence and sense of spirituality as below him. The little fucking intellectual who sat and beat his dick to how he was the sole individual on Earth capable of self-reflection.

In the beginning, the first state to follow had been surprise. Surprise that no one thought to leave that man in a ditch after a drunk night and use his manuscript as toilet paper. With your eyes closing the night you read, in its steps happiness followed, now that it was over and you could go sleep and never check it again.

Lastly, fear. You understood and if you had to name a positive about the story would be the accurate portrayal of subjectivity, of how one would misinterpret based on their thought process and obsession with another person. Fiction had the qualms of exploring said concepts but to you, the way people related and discussed them based on reality’s moral system mattered most. You feared that people would take this toxic relationship and call it a love story and you feared the backlash following your disagreement.

“The subjective perspective of the events makes the impossible love even more painful for the protagonist as he is forced to separate from the young girl, ‘woman and child’, who ends up succumbing to his infatuation and wishes to give herself completely to him with the symbols of spirituality around them bearing as witnesses. A powerful interior conflict can be observed…”

The impossible love. Romeo and Juliet were shaking in their boots at the love of an unempathetic protagonist and a girl too young to know what love meant. You’d think the asshole had an interior conflict since he was stepping over any moral compass known to man.

“…, this way, an authentic and vulnerable experience is captured by the author. It is a story of irremediability, of a consuming love which young people aspire to experience and live for.”

Breathe through your nose, lips pursed to even out your inhales. Once again, the mere mention affected you more than it should’ve, and your mouth won the race over your self-control.

“I disagree.” You didn’t wait for the professor to call your name. Not anymore.“It makes no sense to brand the book as a love story or something a teenager should strive for because of the male character’s actions and his view of her throughout the story. A novel of experience? Certainly. The subjectivity and the protagonists’ reflective notes throughout the narrations guarantee it.”

“Well–” your classmate cut in, but you gave no sign of stopping.

“But she is described as ugly and barbaric, below him despite her high education and extensive poetry knowledge and changed from virgin to whore as she gives into him. These thoughts do not disappear even after he ‘falls in love’ and starts to feel whole next to her because of his supposed superiority. This is not a tragedy, separating them was mandatory to protect her.”

You let your head drop, pursing your lips as you waited for the counter argument. At the silence,  the professor took to watching you, pondering over the answer.“I think you should reflect on the mentality of the 30s. During that time, it could’ve been considered as such.”

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t stop the slight tremor of your tone and the voice that raised another octave. “Are we still living in the 30s? Why are we perpetuating the same mentality, why are we letting it slip with this excuse?”

The professor’s gaze alternated between you and the clock pointing towards the end of the class, “We should leave this discussion for the next time.”

The whispers increased. From behind you, a girl spoke. “Here she goes again with this extreme stuff. I swear, I’m a feminist too but she is exaggerating.”

You were familiar with the type. The one to laugh at your jokes and watch with undivided attention whenever you wanted to lighten up the mood by making a fool of yourself. Several times you heard them laugh at jokes made at the expense of women, several times you were shut down when you stood against it, the moment you call it out you get called a sensitive extremist.

And it wasn’t always bad since men’s voices were an echo chamber to you or radio noise at best, yet the women. The pressure put on women like you by other women suffocated you, settling over your windpipe no matter what you replied. Those were the most frequent case when it came to the rising of your doubts. Chest heavy, you chose not to retaliate, storming out as soon as you collected your things, hoping that time alone would help you solve the issue within yourself.

“Hey, wait–” you snapped your head to the sound, wild eyes contrasting the touch of calamity in his. “I–”

The guy got out of class, hurrying after you. Even a buffoon would see the correlation.“Has the professor said anything?”

He paused in his tracks, taken off guard by the question. “No, that's not it. I wanted to tell you–”

Emotions weren’t your best feature, and you had a few arguments with them here and there. They would threaten you, you’d fight back, they’d reach for cat videos or a thing you did ten years ago and you’d shut up. And isolate.

Which was what you were planning to do right now, if not for Beanie Boy over there testing–wait. You’re sure you’ve seen this guy outside of literature.

“You're in my gender studies class, aren't you?” you pushed, remembering the denim jacket and beanie from a row in front of you, a classic colour combination. Besides that, who could forget the impression he left from the first day, starting off his speech with: I'm tired of his story, It's time I listen to hers. Girls cooing, an unusual image present in your lectures and a few giggling over the shy gestures following. That you remembered.

The tangled letters of his name stayed foreign to you, more concerned with paying attention and learning, and so did his motif to look for you. From what you gathered, he was a unique individual, popular for his Instagram outfit shots and scenery captures. An apparent style whose amalgam of characteristics you didn't recall seeing in recent lectures.

You tilted your head, hand falling to your hip. “Do you want the notes, is that it?”

His mouth gaped, dimples growing to see the light. “Oh, thank you for offering–”

“Then it’s settled. Come to the dorms on Floor One by Thursday, I’ll be there then,” you said with the solemnity and suspicion of a drug dealer, quick to turn around and walk away. More than ever at this hour needed the space to calm your nerves and collect yourself enough so you could pay attention to the next classes.

Still, were you so cheap now that you’d hand out your notes to anyone now to get rid of them? Information is the way to life, and yet you traded it just to get away from it.

Classic.

Five days later fate found you in yet another tricky situation. For as long as you’d live in the campus dorms, you were to never experience peace or any tranquillity. Be it you were cursed or stamped with bad luck at birth, the fact had been internalized long ago, along with your animosity for the object you have lost once again. There was no other way. You pressed the door’s handle, tempted to give up and bang your head against it so you had a way out of this situation.

At least you weren’t completely hopeless.

Once pulled out of said thoughts, you felt around for the phone in your jeans, battling with the sleeves of your fur coat to retrieve it so you could dial Yujin, “Hey, any chance you’re around? I lost the key again and I can’t face Mrs. Choi for the third time this month. Can you please go instead of me?”

Past desires loomed over you once again as you registered your roommate’s words: she didn’t think you’d be home this early, so she locked the door till she returned from the library. Your schedule followed: meet up with your girlfriends and revise the material for next week’s finals as you ranted on the side, but you didn’t have access to it. Duh.

A possibility that not everything is out to get you manifested as you heard steps on the hallway, and you took it as your saving grace… until you checked who it was. A perfect candidate for directing your frustrations to. The Man of the Hour. The most recent addition to your database, who said nothing about the missing material. You were friends on Facebook, for fuck’s sake, did he not care enough to ask for your room number? Did he have other resources to access your personal information, you questioned, frantic in your thoughts which made you turn around, determined to find the answers.

You marched up to him, cutting off his chances at avoidance. “You!”

He pointed to himself, mouth agape.

“You made me wait for so long, and you didn’t show up,” you chastised, wincing a little at how your neck cracked when you stared up at him. “I even organised my papers for you.”  

A hand came up to scratch at his own.“Uhh, I appreciate it… but I-I’m not here for that.”

“So, guess it’s for another time? How long will this take?”

Your patience was running thin more with each meeting, though you remained careful in front of the man. Given your current moods and schedule, you didn’t have the chance to rage about education- and a part of you didn’t want to either. The more you saw him, the more you took your time to observe him, along with his gestures, both of which made you reconsider your opinion of him. Such as no matter how tall and imposing he was, he never looked you in the eye.

Not to mention how you were locked outside your room so you stood no chance to even touch said cellulose, thus you had close to no right to be angry.

“I... This is my room. I moved to 113 at the beginning of the semester.” His gaze once again, drifted elsewhere, studying the hall and reverted back to your shoulders, to the soft curve of your jaw.

“Did I not see you before? Ever?”Were you that absent and disconnected from your surroundings?

“Well, uh… you must’ve seen a lot of these.” He bent to touch the ground before getting on his tiptoes to raise his arm as high as he could, and an image of huge beige coats and white sneakers popped into your mind. The assumptions you made led you to the face your roommate told you about, Kim Seokjin, a pure aphrodisiac senior from art history. You mistook Beanie Boy for him, you thought, coming back at the right time to watch the former grin bashfully at his joke. He surely caught you smiling, for he continues his newfound rambling. “Yeah, Hoseok says he won’t get down in the club with Vincent Van Gogh, so I switched on the coats. Sorry for confusing you.”

“So that’s what he’s been doing instead of practising at 5 AM,” you said, shivering as you remembered the way his steps brought more complaints in your sophomore year than the last generation combined. “You get used to the sound after a while. It worked wonders during exam season, I didn’t fall asleep one night.”

“It’s the same thing, he just has more audience now.”

You chuckled, police sirens going off in your head at the realisation that you were enjoying this, a little too much. With suspicion creeping up behind you and a sense of urgency to cleanse yourself through group conversation, the need to end the conversation throbbed in your veins. “Well, thanks for that. See you!”

You felt bad for leaving like that, but a complaint appointment and anxiety generated from the possibility that he will ask you to bring them now were already keeping you locked towards your destination: the lounge.

“I heard there was an emergency,” you sat down on the couch as you bid hello to the group of girls, books, notes and flashcards scattered on the table and their laps. You recognised them as the girls from your floor, a few doors away from you, with whom you spent a good majority of your time at the beginning of freshman year before drifting apart, each focused on your own majors and forming groups there. Besides Sojung, your close friend you plopped next to, you’d see them on occasion and spend your time with them pretending to study and trying out nearby cafes.

“Yes, we ran here as soon as we heard about your struggle,” she said, expression serious as she petted your head. Not long after, her grin grew in time with yours diminishing, satisfied at how she stole your joke out in the open like this. Despite your opposite attitudes, Sojung’s deadpan humour was never far from your dramatic one and many times she was quick to outwit you. She already knew about the events at the party, having them narrated in an incoherent string of texts, followed by the conclusion that you were in need of pleasant company.

“You mean girl,” you pouted, “and to think I came all the way here to support you.”

The girl rolled her eyes, going back to her study material, forehead crease a little too obvious, and you welcomed the challenge to make her laugh.

“These exams shouldn’t exist. They’re stressing you out too much,” you complained, wishing you could do more when the light bulb flickered in your head. “I’ll change my major. I’ll get my diploma in being a wall so I can protect every girl from these assholes. See what they do then.” Catching a glimpse of the corners of her mouth rising, you pondered the occupation: not a bad idea at all if you considered it.

“This is hell. Don’t you have things to revise too, girl?” Seungyeon, the criminology major and girl you wish you could be, said. Serious yet sociable, a go-getter with elevated thoughts said at the right time, she was as close to a college model you had.

“It’s a few brackets and logic commands. Not a lot to grasp. Either it works, or it doesn’t.” If you had lived in a world of your own wishful thinking and didn’t stress out over these two months in advance, yes. Studying and trying out the material at midnight became incorporated into your routine, allowing yourself a two-day break every week. In spite of it, you were glad you didn’t have to memorize entire textbooks and that your field allowed for skill practice, adding the literature classes you partook in to exercise your creativity and widen your perspectives.

“Plus, I’m here to listen to any of you who needs help, since my girl here has other plans,” you said, tone honey-like as you encouraged your proposal. You were aware at that not many of them were bold enough to ask for help first due to fear of inconveniencing others, making you cautious in approaching the subject and with enough luck catching some friends. You didn’t know Seungyeon that well on a personal level, but you were striving towards having more people as ambitious as her, what was a little sugar coating? And as expected, she grinned at you, getting up to hand you her portfolio, all written in cursive black ink.

“Can you quiz me on these terms?” You nodded, brows furrowing at the thesaurus language.

Close to thirty minutes later, coat discarded and your head spinning from the new information, your hand froze on the foiled page as your phone started buzzing in your back pocket.“Pits of hell, main demon speaking.”

“Please stop doing this whenever you’re answering me in public.”

“There’s a price to pay if you’re making me participate in a phone call.” you smiled, delighted by Yuna’s whiny tone, already picturing her desperate eye roll. “No, it’s ok. Keep going.”

“I talked to the receptionist and he said they can rent us the place March 30th. Some TV broadcast will host a reality series there from the fifth onward.”

Blood drained from your face.“T-that’s. In two months,” you stammered, shoulders already slumped at different heights from the stress building and slapping each bone at varying times. “Why not April first so you can say psych? Please…”

“Minho thought it’d be funny too. He has a spring collection in Portugal on the third.”

“What kind of thing is he modelling on your wedding week? Lord.”

“Tuxes.”

“Forget I asked,” you said through your teeth as your nails dug into the cover of Sojung’s manual, threatening to fold the piece and rip its remains. “And you want me to do what? Mhm… A few errands, right, close family wedding. Thank fuck for that at least. Sure, I don’t have anything else. Yes, I’m serious. Love you. Ok bye.”

Shifting your eyes to the group, you stared each of them in their pupil with solemnity as your body slumped on the couch till it met the criteria of a shapeless blob. “I’m doomed,” a sigh left your lips as your hand travelled to meet Sojung’s, craving physical affection in this time of need. Might as well get it from a pretty girl. “Here’s my end, cheers. Please raise a drink in my memory next time you go out.”

The girl cooed at your dramatics and squeezed your hand, reaching to caress your cheek and pull your head to her shoulder. She was not the one with words, but she never minded offering you physical comfort to remind of her support. Your eyes closed by themselves, wishing to drape yourself over her long legs and hide your face in her neck, a place where no responsibility could haunt you as you were hidden by her styled hair and comforting arms. In your crisis, you thanked heaven for women’s existence and for your luck to be surrounded by so many of them before you continued.

“She wants me to help with the wedding and I-I don’t know anything about this shit. I’m not good at the whole aesthetic thing.”

And a little part of your heart broke, the truth of your statement ringing in your ears. Although you learnt how to be confident in your abilities as you grew out of teenage years, you still had more to go through until you were comfortable with the unknown. Enthusiastic willingness existed, but it wasn’t always enough, and it hurt to be aware of it once again, having your stomach throb from the fear of disappointing or ruining things with your input.

“But you have style,” the girl added. “I love those tennis skirts you wear.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know about colour coordination, or materials, hell I don’t even know what a chiffon is...”

“Then why offer to do this?”

“Cause she’s busy you know,” you peeked at the biology book in her lap (the one you threatened to snap mere moments ago), thinking about how great it would be to exist as a paramecium.“She has a career and all while I’m here considering majoring in being a wall. And I don’t want her to carry such a burden alone.”

“You have time to learn. And if not, I know someone who can help with that. Namjoon is amazing with these things. I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not interrupting anything-“

A part of your brain lit up in recognition, but you ignored it, not bothering to look-  too busy wallowing in your misery to be bothered with chats.

Sojung moved, making your head snap off her shoulder and have you grasp your surroundings–to be specific, their new addition to it: Beanie Boy from Gender Studies, sat on the folding chair with a stack of books in his lap. “Namjoon, you’re here, I have to ask–”

Time ticked as gears turned into your brain, throwing the information in every angle until you processed it. You nodded, mouth agape, thinking what you should put inside a conditional command to make this situation look better, hopeful as you were. It ended up something like this:

if (disasterhappens) { pleasedont(); }

Squeezed between the timeline of a Data Structures course and the unforgiving cold, you stepped out of the bus the same pace as Namjoon, whose name you picked after your last encounter. In your classroom, he’d often remain quiet, thus your conscience didn’t feel too bad about making an excuse for your pea-sized memory. Faces were easy to memorize, but God forbid, hold on to a name and your brain threatened explosion. This time, true to his word, he ditched the coat, going for a padded jacket.

It worried you the slightest, as it had him open to the attacks of the weather, but you kept it to yourself.

“What are we doing?”

“They got most of the stuff done, so I don’t have to bother with calligraphers and shit to send out invitations or find photographers, we picked the dress three months ago... it should be easy.” You flicked open the cover of your pocketbook, proud of the doodles you managed between the tasks. “I have to rent the tablecloths, organise the seating positions, order the flowers, argue with the guy at the venue, other useless stuff, then- oh! Get the cake- that’s her taking pity on me for sure.”

“Do you have any specifics? If not, we can work something out. I know what women like.”

You squinted in suspicion, tone rich with all the certainty you had the ability to muster. “I bet you do.“

His eyes widened, “No, I didn’t mean it like that-”

Keeping your mouth shut for the first time in your life, you stood to realise he was helping you; he didn’t look like he signed the petition to buy you a tinfoil hat. By law, you were obliged to restrain the second nature which leaned towards hostility- for men. The notion made you sigh, wishing for a way to tell him it was fine without it becoming weird or turning into a race for apologising. “Either way, I have no escape. Might as well drag someone to hell with me.”

Namjoon said nothing, stirring and adding salt to the soup of guilt you were harbouring for the last minute which boiled in your gut and threatened to overflow.

“Schedule comes as planned: be back at the station by 4 to take the 4:03 bus. That’s a 15-minute ride till we get to Yuna’s house where we’ll drop these, and from there it’s a 30-minute walk to the building.” With that, you sprung into action.

“You got this figured out, huh?” his voice rang with a tint of impress you picked up on.

Your lips pursed to suppress a smile as your pace slowed, “I mean, of course I do.” It was little before you changed your mind, thoughts running wild between your responsibilities and morals because of them battling out. The whirlwind made you move with more speed, your words almost matching the fastness of your legs.

“Thanks for coming with me and stuff. This will be a piece of cake, but still.” you shrugged, a little awkward to be running errands with a guy at 3:15 PM like one of those middle-aged couples. Hence why you resorted to Conversation 101, mastering it in time to deal with such an unfamiliar situation. Truth be told, your wished for a method to express your gratefulness now that he doubled it by he was accompanying you in the time between classes, a holy period marked by relaxation– not picking out from thirty shades of silk red.

However, by itself, the ‘thanks’ had remained stuck in your throat, in need of an extra push to make it sound nonchalant instead of a word of relief which decreased the anxiety blood levels.

He didn’t seem to mind. Namjoon walked behind you without struggle due to your bulldozer walk, eyes fixed on his steps and hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I’m happy to help.” You turned your head to look back at him, a pursed smile lingering on your features making you repeat the action every five seconds. Turn, stare, square up with your facial muscles.

“You must really want those notes, huh? Is the class that important?” you joked as the two of you approached the store, hand reaching out to open the door with Namjoon trailing close.

“Well, I-” Namjoon paused, startled when your feet came to a halt at the doorstep, body spinning to make eye contact with him. The grip you had on the door handle twitched as you watched him come closer and closer, releasing right as he was about to step inside. In a perfect impersonation of an ostrich, his head pulled back as the door closed in seeming slow motion, reminding you of how much of a bad fanfiction your life was every time you went outside.

His widened eyes bordering on mania met yours through the glass, breaths living him as if he was trying to deflate and disappear from you as soon as possible. You gasped and bowed your head, moving to open the door, tugging it towards you with no result before his hand enveloped the handle, yanking it open. The force sent you aiming towards the pavement before strong fingers gripped your forearm and pulled you straight.

Straight into him.

Your mouth gaped, arms flying out to his biceps to push him away from you and save yourself out of this situation–that’s what you were planning. Instead, you froze, fingers still gripping the muscles because, despite the accident, you were touching him. A man.

The best part was that Namjoon seemed as frozen as you felt, his gaze busy tracing every feature, never leaving your face. Your heartbeat became more erratic by the second as embarrassment crept upon your cheeks, but you were not the bitch without prior experience to trainwrecks like this- after all, you made codes. Thus, you laughed and tightened your grip, slowly shaking him before the pace increased. “We have to be very precise! Do you understand me? This is for a far greater cause, we need to pay attention to every shade and detail, point blank-”

“Period. I wouldn’t have been here if I didn’t know,” the words come out gentle as he tilts his head, fingers trailing forward to pet your shoulder before distancing himself. He gave a curt nod, signalling for you to move, and if this was any other time you would’ve protested, you took it as an opening to flee.

“Yes, of course,” you mutter as you walk through the variety of fabrics. Yeet. The notes app on your phone came in handy now, as you had an excuse to focus on anything but him. Most of the instructions were clear, silk fabric, ask for the rented option because buying requires to iron them and none of you knew how to use a household object like that, stick to the theme and pick-

“Apple red?” you said out loud to the cloned shelves adorning the entire store, each inclined in a different way for aesthetic purposes, or to make your life difficult. “She’s so pretentious. What even is that, they all look like fucking red.”

“Couldn’t a professional do this?” Namjoon inquires from beside you, scrutinizing the interior design before settling on a banner painted on the wall. “Live laugh love. Very suburban.”

“Dunno, maybe this way they thought they could get away with spending less money. Not like they’re lacking any, goddamn family-oriented capitalists.” you rambled, being used to inserting dramatic lines in your speech with your girlfriends. Nevertheless, this territory had boundaries on pending left to be established. From your knowledge, guys weren’t used to interacting with language innovationists, so you had to sweeten the deal a little to avoid feelings of inferiority. “They could’ve counted on me finding a hero since men and all are sooo good with details.”

You sighed. Way to go, sarcasm.

Namjoon only chuckled, continuing to study the store’s organisation system. “I’ll go look for what we need, and we’ll get back in 10 minutes to compare. Hope that’s okay.” He dashed by you, your brows furrowing before realising it was time to roll, stomping away to browse through foldings.

After forgoing the opportunity to give up halfway, you returned to him with six different shades, raising each hand to present it to him, starting with the first option at hand, a deeper shade of red.“I think I found it. How’s this?”

Namjoon licked his lips.“Uh, well, it looks a little-”

“A little what? It’s red.” you pointed with your head as if it was obvious before lifting the others up. “All of these are red.”

“That is wine red,” he explained as he scratched the back of his neck. “We should pay more attention to details if we want to do a good job.”

Your left eye twitched. Namjoon had been kind to you (human standards, not male ones) in the time you spent together. Guaranteed, his timing was off during most of your meetings and in objective standards, he did nothing wrong, but your conscience didn’t enjoy subtle reprimanding. In fact, she felt threatened, ready to have you bring out the big guns. You had some logic and attention to detail too in any state of tiredness; it was a matter of whether it wanted to be exercised.

Despite your lack of knowledge in colour theory,  blamed on your monochromatic wardrobe, at first sight, it looked like apple to you! Yet, determination rose in your chest and now the world shed new light upon your sight- you would pick the best goddamn apple colour in this store.

He did nothing wrong. Still, you weren’t at fault either because your competitiveness flared over the most useless reasons.

“Huh, seems like I’ve been eating the wrong apples.” You wanted to drop the fabric onto the floor for dramatic effect, yet your common sense stopped you, too worried about the workers that would have to clean up after the two of you. “How about this one?”

“That’s burgundy.”

“How do you even know those?”

“My mother has that hair colour… Every lady over forty in our neighbourhood uses that.” Chin tucked, he looked down at his pile to avoid your gaze. “I think this is more accurate.”

You inspected the piece with the attention of a fine painter, ready to create your own Starry Night with tablecloths and future flowers.

“Looks like candy. That apple’s full of chemicals. Yuna only likes organic, farm stuff,” you chirped out of pure pettiness, and Namjoon must have sensed it, because his pose turned frigid, glare with raised eyebrows aimed like an arrow towards you. “I’m sure this one is right-”

“That’s crimson,” his voice interjected. “There’s no way this is good for a wedding unless we’re talking the Red one.”

Both of your tones grew sassier and the man you sassed at the end of your course morphed into a reflection of yourself. Nice but ready to cut if you’d open your mouth in the next three seconds. Bad for both of your sakes, you had no qualms about passing whatever limit because you were the tear in the system–for fuck’s sake, you made the system. “Lucky for me, I have no idea what that is. I don’t watch hipster shows.”

Let out a sound similar to a laugh meant to be suppressed yet it escaped anyway. “That’s the farthest thing possible from hipster.”

“Fine, I’m not supposed to care about those anyway.”

A passive-aggressive smile. “Yes, we should go back to our task and try to solve the problem.”

Another one. “There’s no problem, I’ll look for more and then we’ll go on our way.”

“Of course,” Padded boy retaliated before sitting in front of another shelf. “This?”

“It’s blinding my eyes. It’s not gonna match. She also wants freesias, let’s just find something similar,” you said as you dug through the packages on the bottom shelves. “Ha, how about this?”

“It... “ He tilted his head, letting out a deep exhale, “it looks good.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You clutched the fabric to your chest, ecstatic to leave colour combination to the experts and never return again.

With crossed arms and hostility radiating off him, Namjoon, the image of attention to detail, looked as if he was about to launch into a rant about nihilism and why shit like this shouldn’t matter at your smallest gesture. You mastered the same fixed stare, as your friends told you several times and you focused on the floral details at the empty cashier’s spot, scared of what might happen if each of you directed it towards the other.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Both your heads snapped to a man in overalls, flower crown resting on top of his head and grin beaming on his features- until he saw the both of you glaring at him, “Oh. I apologise for the delay.”

You broke out of your trance, gesturing at the packaged cloth. “We’d like to rent uh… ten of these.”

The man returned with your fulfilled request and you hurried to get a hold after swiping on Minho’s smiley-face covered credit card. You gave an awkward smile which you hoped he saw before switching to Namjoon, who was a bit difficult to interact with due to the messy way you were holding the items.

“I’ll hold them myself. Help me out with the door,” you muttered from under the mountain of fabric, feeling a little self-conscious of being this authoritative in a fabrics store.“If you want to.”

“It won’t move. Hold on.” From outside, he clutched the handle and pulled it back with his entire body, leaning half-suspended in the air. His leg, like a whip from God, stretched out over the pavement in pointé position to reach the other door and fight to push it as you squeezed through the minimal space.

Ignoring Namjoon still stretched out trying to open doors for you, you checked your hand watch, the image making you gasp.“Oh no! It’s 4:10 p.m.” You turned to him, eyes wild and devoid of any humanity as he got into standing position at last.

“We had to be at the bus station at 4! The next bus is in 6 minutes and it’s going to take us 15 minutes to get there and I can’t afford a taxi.” You sprinted with the most speed, but after an entire fifteen seconds on the clock your feet planted on the ground, hands on your knees and throat constricting as you struggled for air.

“Why do I never do cardio I-” you panted to no one in particular as Namjoon’s figure passed you, increasing the distance with controlled steps. “Oh fuck. Hold on. Wait!”

Your body did its best to maintain your equilibrium as you chased after him, tablecloths in hand.“How on Earth are you moving this fast-”

With a gaze at his wit’s end, he waited till you advanced to him before snatching the packed items from you and digging through his back pocket to get his wallet out. “Hold this and pay,” he said as he intertwined his arm with yours, hitting the acceleration button full force without warning, “There’s no time for little legs.”

Once again, your heart joined the marathon.“Hey–wait! Wait, I didn’t plan a sprint in this, my hair’s going to be ruined!” The wind’s presence smacked you at once too, even air attacking as you tried and failed to keep up with his pace. Thus, all left to do was whine about it. “Move slower! My hair, I–I can’t let people know I’m ugly–hey!”

“Spill.”

“Quite interesting that you assumed I’d have anything to complain about when I never did it in my life.”

Sojung quirked her eyebrow, pausing her scrolling to turn her head and judge you properly, to which you pursed your lips- fighting hard to not burst into laughter and blow your cover.

With the aid of a motivational discourse about the balance between studying and having fun (the most you can have in said weather), you managed to bribe her into watching a movie as long as you made the sweet tea and let her pick. A problematic duo, Sojung and these choices, since she had a torturing streak going against your brain cells, but you followed her rules, ready to rumble by immersing yourself into whatever character you deemed the dumbest. Now, warm cup in hand, there you stood, squeezed to her side due to the bed’s size, looking like her disciple, or at least a very starry-eyed novice.

How else were you supposed to be, as you were cuddling with an objective image of temptation under the blankets, bare feet ducking under hers to steal her warmth? A woman who radiated daintiness without effort, the tips of her hair still wavy from Saturday’s party enough to create the aura of an Aphrodite of Science who pulled you in, who charmed you into wanting to feed her grapes and braid her hair.

“You haven’t talked about it in days. I’m worried,” she stated as if you broke our friendship code by avoiding the wedding topic, which you thought you were doing a pretty good job on. Yesterday you even stuck to the manners code while convincing the photographer not to reschedule, reminding him with the required politeness of who he was dealing with. Your sister didn’t like to flaunt her status and neither did you with yours (whether you had one was arguable), yet you never minded reminding people who she was in case she got too humble.“You’re not like that.”

“Fine, don't look at me like this- there’s a reason why I should’ve said no. I made a fool out of myself.” your friend nodded, giving you the gesture for ‘go-ahead, confess your sins’. “So we got to the store, I walked first right, cause you know how I move, and I opened the door and you know I’m not an animal so I wanted to hold the door open for him but-”

“But he’s a man.”

“Yeah and I can’t-” you closed your mouth, opting for indecipherable gestures with your free hand, “fraternize with the enemy, for lack of a better word. And I almost hit him with the door.”

With a temporary interest, you watched as the beginning credits for whatever movie Sojung picked. This way you could postpone the pain a little. Deep breaths.

“I didn't know how he is with these things, I- we argued a lot. Over tablecloths.”

“Of course. Like me and Mino when we had to do that project together. The cells we had to analyze looked like cones to me but he insisted they're joints.”

You laughed, a full sound that came with you shaking your head, “The bar is on the fucking ground, God.”

“Mhm, but I'm sure Namjoon wasn't like that. He's very immaculate and detail-oriented with his work, not thinking about joints,” she emphasised on the last words. “He’s an alright guy. A little passive-aggressive sometimes but he'll get over it.”

“Yeah, he’s-” you sputtered, an adequate definition of Namjoon still foreign to you. Good would raise suspicions, not bad would have Sojung urge you into detailing. “Bearable.”

She gave you a look you couldn’t decipher. “Right. And his Insta shots are cute. You should follow him.”

You sighed, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and obey her request. After a search lasting less than a few minutes, you caught sight of familiar fashion popping into your recommended. You clicked on the profile, pictures of animals and outfits for the day welcoming you, his trademark coats fitting perfect with his long legs.

Compared to the rest of his feed, his fifth picture was a close-up one, with him sitting on the ground, a deer on each of his side. At the display taken from a Disney picturesque, there it was: guilt drowning you again, this time sour edition. Why were you like this.

Granted, despite your differences and mutual pettiness, he tried to be patient for as long as he could-bless his heart- while you started out colder and less optimistic than usual and let your attitude get the best of you. Grumpiness was not a trait of yours, it was by chance you let it take the wheel again as you pressed the follow button. Bold of you to think he’d notice with his 1.3k mark, coming from the girl with 70 followers and three pics of you smiling.

Cuddled up to your friend, you settled on forgoing this matter, focusing on the movie and hoping the guilt soup would simmer down. Later swearing as your insides turned to mush, you buried your head in the pillow, groaning as you re-imagined the scene with the male lead trespassing for the girl- risking fines for plucking the rose and jumping back the same gate with no effort. A hundred other similar scene to this one came back to you, and yet your reaction was impossible to control- half-way between an eye roll and batting your eyelashes, brain alternating between commands. Old, young, there were reasons cliches were cliches, and the public's feelings were what made them popular from the start.

This love was the exact movie love which would never be possible in real life, where the oh-so-young hero gave roses and heart attacks to an innocent girl having no prior experience with motorcycles. Thus, you didn’t bother to fight against indulging a little in whatever trope the movie was displaying. It mixed the leather jacket and typical bad boy vehicles with a retro type of romance.

“Why do you always insist on this kind of movies?” you asked, pleading with your girl to cease these activities but also hinting to her you wouldn't mind another one. Especially for this week, a time where love and capitalism went one on one. Valentine’s day was a sensitive topic for you, anti-capitalist and all, but you were aware of the loneliness some friends of your experienced. Hence why ever since you were a freshman, you bought envelopes and red paper, brought your trusted heart stapler and got to work. You had close to no criteria for your choices: close friends, people you had pleasant interactions with, girls under stressful situations. Random people on hallways who made you smile and later got a letter with a lollipop and your attempts at a cursive: ‘Someone’s thinking of you! Please buy chocolate on sale this year!’

“Wanted to get us in the mood.” She winked at you as her hand found yours under the blanket, laptop propped on her legs, “It’s fun seeing you squirm.”

“Come on, men in real life are not like that. There’s not one dude out there who will be this attentive to you, and if he does he's gonna get you in debt. You'll have to bail him out of jail.”

Sojung shrugged, yellow turtleneck brushing adorably against her chin. You didn’t know what offended you more: her silence or how cute she looked without even trying - making it impossible to stay fake-mad at her.

“My judgement’s been rotten, but if I said one fair thing in this world is that one.” An accusing finger was pointed at her, “You should agree. I haven’t seen you talk to any of the guys in your classes outside of school.”

Sojung took one long glance at you, taking her time to answer. “I guess I’m too busy right now.”

Your brows furrowed, “Yeah… college’s a bitch. But this time it’s doing you something good, right?”

“Eh. Another one?” she asked, seconds away from your definite yes.

After two more hours of cringing and containing your cooing, you remembered today’s goals: find Namjoon and consult him about the next weeks’ schedules, establish a proper plan. Of minimal interaction, if possible- in which both of you secured efficiency and less trivial arguing. You shook your head, finding the thought’s beginning ridiculous- going to his room, seeing him to tell him you didn’t want to see him.

Wasn’t a complete truth either.

Sense of responsibility and need for order aside, this was a bad idea. You didn’t check in with him, part hesitation part not having his number and being too awkward to write to him on Facebook (you were friends, you checked). Yet, you stood at his door, fist hanging in the air.

Three raps, a deep breath to calm your nerves- what nerves? Why would you experience that? You could do this. You knocked on doors before, thank God.

With newfound confidence, you smacked said door with all you had, positive that Namjoon would hear and you’d have no way out of it then. Bag on your shoulder, you fiddled with the letter hidden behind your back, hoping the glue dried enough not to move the heart from its middle. Earlier today, as you were bracing yourself for your mission, you saw Hoseok heading for practice. It eased you a bit, doing this in front of Namjoon alone.

The door opened and your mouth curled to the sound of it rattling from its hinges, “Hi, are you busy?”

Namjoon, in all of his bear pyjamas and bedhead glory, eyes round and wide stared at you with uncertainty. “I’m… not doing much. You can come in.”

“Were you sleeping? Sorry I didn’t say anything, I don’t have your number and-”

“No, no, we can solve that. I-” he paused, seeming to struggle, “That’s how I sit when I don’t study or go outside.”

Following after him, you watched as he sat back on his bed, same lotus position and brought his legs closer together to make space for you. Soon, he must have realized his mistake, tips of his ears turning red as his gaze moved back to you. “I mean! You can sit in Hobi’s bed. I’ll-” He rolled out of his bed, crouching next to his roommate’s bed so he was next to you, “yeah.”

“I don’t want to take away too much of your time-”

“I don’t mind.” He licked his lips, head dropping down, “Well, not that much. Please continue.”

You bent to show him what you’ve been working on- a logical scheme to ensure productivity without spending too long on a destination, tying together similar events. One which you ended up doodling on for illustration, marking the points where you might have trouble later and the way to approach them. “This is the battle plan. Minimum effort, maximum fun. I fucking hope.”

“Cute,” Namjoon said, a close-mouthed smile on, and you were right in the radius to get a glimpse at the true depth of his dimple. Oh. You pouted, mouth opening and closing as you tried to form a coherent thought at his words. You were not cute. “I mean the sketch.” 

Chest deflated, you pursed your lips at the geometric owl you drew, not pausing to catch the amused glint in his eyes or how his grin was growing. “Ok, first destination. So I searched for Google reviews, right, and the guy at the venue is a total asshole.”

“What’s the plan then?”

You breathed out, “I was… I was hoping that you can help with this one. I, err, struggle with being diplomatic around guys.”

He nodded, signature dimple popping out again.“Sometimes.”

Your mouth gaped in mock offense before you caught his gaze again. You cursed under your breath, looking down at your chest in indignation then switching to his desk chair. It resembled the one in the lounge to the point it was suspicious–making you squint at the offensive object, recalling the image of Namjoon last sat on when he was pulled into this mess.

“…And I’d appreciate you giving me some tips maybe, on how to deal with the guy. I’m desperate.” The option of going there and listing everything you and your family wanted without a compromise was tempting, but there were several warning bells pointing towards the opposite result.

“To begin, don’t judge his colour combination outfits.” He chuckled, lifting your mood a little. “Be assertive, but don’t make him feel out of control. Bring your demands in as suggestions.”

“Look intimidating but polite,” he said softly. “You already have half the part down.”

You puffed, “I breathed.”

“Doesn’t matter if the situation seems bad, don’t bend down to whatever he may tell.” He extended his palm towards you, and you gave him the sheet. “You think he stands a chance against these?”

“I was planning on that, but-” But it was difficult for you to do these without becoming snappy, without attempting to have the fucker trip with the power of your glare. Your voice died down in your throat as you stared at the bullet point tasks again.

Check in, talk about catering options and suggest food for their catering team to serve, confirm the guest list and the number of hours spent. Return a month later to assign the seats and assist the decoration process in case there was any need for changes. All that came as an obstacle was the man. The little devil impersonator you head so much about on hidden google reviews.

If you lost your cool it meant sabotaging one of the most important tasks of the entire scheme, which would guarantee a disaster in case you messed up. Here you were, with a possibility of rivalling Cinderella and getting expensive shoes stuck on stairs, only you’d lose the entire place instead of the shoe. It wasn’t like you could hold a wedding under your local drawbridge either-why did Yuna leave this on you? Why not pick Hyoyeon or Minho? Was this the time for you to develop a diplomatic streak?

Namjoon interrupted your impending existential crisis, “I’m free this weekend.”

Using the rational side of your brain, you submitted to his request, crossing off your earlier decisions. No interaction my ass, you thought. “Fine. I’ll pick you up on Sunday.”

As he meant to return your plan, you got up. “Actually, that is for you. And also this.” You pulled out the blue envelope, heart left intact to seal it.

“Oh?”

A rush of panic hit your gut from how he was looking at you, expecting you to go on. Did he want you to spell it out? God, no, you–“…found it at the door.”

As he got a hold of it, he let out a fake gasp; yet you weren’t so sure about the excitement which came across real, urging you to check the letter again for things you might have missed.

“Woah, it's right in the middle! Very sharp with the details,” the man tilted his head, not giving you any time to breathe. Like he was testing your reaction.

You tried to keep any tint of emotions at bay despite your body naturally adopting a more confident pose at the praise.“Mhm, agreed.”

“This is very thoughtful. I should thank the person when I see them. Even though it came four days earlier,” he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah-”

“Must have messed up the date.”

“Hey!” You paused, mouth closing shut. “Who cares? They made an effort.”

“You’re right, I’ll make sure to let them know.” He nodded with solemnity. “Was that it?” he asked and ended up mimicking your previous gesture, not meaning to come out like that.

“Uh, I have to go anyways.” You laughed to try and mask how startled you were. “I’ll… see you in a few days. Have a good one?”

I’ll try, he wanted to say, but instead he nodded, following you to the exit.

After you found the most bizarre way to ask for his number again, he meant to return to studying, thoughts of his appearance forgotten now that you left. He didn’t do much else since he woke up, neither he could say he expected anything to happen today, and he was long accommodated to the sturdiness of his chair to be bothered by sitting there for hours.

Settling on his usual space, he placed the papers you gave him under his stationery, focusing to remember the line he remained at. Though, it was no easy task, the little heart and doodles pulling on his attention and disregarding his work ethic. Damn them.

Before he registered his actions, Namjoon grabbed the papers again, taking in every piece of information laid on the battle notes he started out with. One thing that stood out to him was the contrast between your big personality, which appeared effortless to him, and your writing. He sort of expected messier handwriting taking up space on the sheet, similar to the way you acted each day.

Meeting you didn’t happen often, but he was neither blind nor deaf, he heard the degree of familiarity you used in speech even with teachers, had seen you in passing comforting people from the same dorm. He felt like a witness to some of your antics by the vividness Sojung described them with, complaining that kids at the volunteering centre would spend more time with you, attacking you with kisses to as you screeched and swore revenge.

Your writing was smaller and much more organized, taking up half the A5 paper you gave him. He didn’t know why he was even thinking about this, or why he felt like he found something new about you through it. Next came the letter, which contained a heart-shaped lollipop and a note attached to it, this time written in cursive but bearing the same letter size.

He chuckled as he read. Chocolate on sale. Ha, he bought that February second.

Some of the regrets for your experience together washed away as he spent more time re-reading, an impulse having him reach towards his stationery and take the scissors, cutting your schedule plan in half. You, in particular, were not the main cause for said emotions, he knew that much. Often he had a hard time telling people no, wishing to help as much as he could even if it came at his expense and a disappointed look from his friends who pleaded with him to listen, to stop caring so much about other people’s situations and turn his attention to him. Be selfish, take a break, practice self-care or whatever he wanted to call it, they told him. Look at you for once.

He still struggled with that. This time, like many others, his conscience was telling him he’s doing the right thing, but there was a slight change. Something pleasant stirring up in his loins, a level of contentment with his decision to accept. He could at last witness you rip that fucker to shreds.

The anatomy book was still open, but for the time being, he had no motivation to continue studying. He wanted to prevent losing your indications too, so he put the paper inside the book before closing it, only image available being the freesia you drew next to the first circle. No more information for now, he thought. After all, he could research plenty in his surroundings for the current chapter.

The cardiovascular system.

Based on your poor approximations, it had been more than a week since your last encounter with Namjoon, and a part of you wanted to scream because you had kept a lot of secrets in during this time. There was no date from when you began classifying your life as before and after Namjoon, but as the timeline stretched out you started talking to him more and more. To the point where you’d have inner monologues about it and whether you were doing the right thing, like the case in point.

You forgot about yourself on several occasions, swimming in special mathematics and the burden of college life which nearly drowned your optimism alongside that of your friends’. Yet, to your surprise, at least twice a day you’d find a lifeboat to lean onto which came in a package with a hose to swallow the water. Weird metaphors aside, in other words, you and Namjoon started texting a few days after he gave you his number and you managed to deliver the notes. And not just one phrase here and there, but multiple messages that had you debating food choices, new courses and the density of your literature teacher.

It turned into a habit, checking your notifications between classes because of him. Those close to you knew you preferred real-life communication to texting and made efforts to hang out as much as possible, so your phone hardly buzzed most of the time.

With the exception of him, of course. You discovered hidden opinions with the help of your flair for complaining and progressed on the stages of your friendship enough to be comfortable with the idea of him helping you. Well, calling it a friendship could’ve been a stretch, but development is development. Difficulties still arose in the eye contact department, but you discovered he opens up far more when he didn’t have to face you. Were you scary like that? He even followed you back on Instagram before liking all of your pictures, it mustn’t be the case.

Though, you couldn’t be the one to talk, because you ended up seeing him in passing once and got an existential crisis from waving at him, unsure whether you were at the stage for it or not yet. Ready to duck into a bush and never speak again, your eyes widened as you spotted him waving back and smiling, pointing at you to whoever he was with. Even bigger was the shock coming from him walking towards you and striking a conversation, asking you about your studies and the week you had. He was the same as always, shy grin on and ears listening with diligence as you fumbled for words and gaped like a fish at his interest in your well-being.

It was hard to hate him. There, you said it. Hard to despise a person of his type when all he did was-

Ping!

Driven by habit alone, you wet your lips as you unlocked your phone, thankful for the distraction of the thoughts causing you to be distracted in the first place.

[beanie boy] 8:50 a.m: you know, if that photographer keeps being an asshole, i got this friend that can replace him real quick [beanie boy] 8:50 a.m: his style is a little more middle-aged art teacher than mine, so it might be hard to accept him but he’s great [beanie boy] 8:51 a.m: promise?

The corner of your mouth curled, recalling the recent discussions of the guy throwing a fit because Yuna wanted a shot near the lake outside of the ceremonies, followed by one at the central park and how she went on to pay his fuel to shut him up. You didn’t even realise the lecture was close to finishing, and from what you heard, Thursdays around this time they’d let him go a few minutes early. According to calculations, he must’ve been texting you right as he got out of class.

[you] 8:52 a.m: you have ties in the photographer industry? [you] 8:52 a.m: is tht why you know so much colour theory…,, Damn

Where did he have ties though, it occurred to you. What was his major? During the time you spent talking, you felt like you knew a lot of trivial information about Namjoon that most of his classmates didn’t, but the origins of his passions stayed foreign to you. The notes app in your head updated with the urge to find out about it.

[beanie boy] 8:54 a.m: i held his light in the art museum as he was developing pics. We bonded then

You furrowed your brows, thoughts that Namjoon might have more titles around the campus except for the one you gave him foreign to your conscience. To this photography guy, he was light Boy, who helped him through hard times- was it his thing? Help random people, make them feel special and then never meet with them again?

[beanie boy] 8:54 a.m: his art is also weirdly motivational. Idk what it is about dog paws and noses that moves me to tears but it’s very helpful when i have a hard time [beanie boy] 8:55 a.m: are we on for today?

[you] 8:58 a.m: yes i hope so

He told you he didn’t have plans for the upcoming week starting today, and the venue devil reserved your discussion for the same days. Still, a part of you grew anxious from his lack of reply and agreement as you moved to the next class. Scurrying for your phone, you began typing again.

[you] 9:09 a.m: i mean, it’s ok if we don't Do it now. [you] 9:10 a.m: there’s still time. Idc

You put your trust in one man and look what happened. He hated you. He wanted to ditch you-

[beanie boy] 9:14 a.m: what? yes i want us to go today [beanie boy] 9:15 a.m: for the record, i ignored a ppt presentation to answer this [beanie boy] 9:15 a.m: and ouch, that’s cold. you really hurt me this time. [beanie boy is typing…]

[beanie boy] 9:19 a.m: maybe you can make it up to me with some tea later?

Your breath hitched as you read the notification on your phone. Too dangerous out there to open it.

[beanie boy] 9:19 a.m: heard it’s good for the soul

Yeah, the fucking soul alright. Glad he was preoccupied with his as he was toying with yours. Half pettiness half need to pay attention to your surroundings, you put your phone back in your pocket, ready to concentrate on your lecture.

Immersed in the new information and ways to solve presented to you, you forgot about your feelings regarding the matter and came back more energized and ready to take on the day. The day in which--oh no.

[you] 11:23 a.m: we’ll see about that [you] 11:25 a.m: meet me in front of the art building in three hours?

You didn’t mean to come out mysterious or cold, but now that it was done you were starting to embrace it, showing how much of a layered person you were. Bet photo guy didn’t keep him on his toes like this.

Bet photo man didn’t have to wait in front of a building looking like a sheep lost from the herd, no shepherd in sight to calm your nerves. Its new-age design and uneven blocks brought all the space for doubt to slither into your heart, no answer from Namjoon as of yet. You were hoping for the best, self-esteem steeling itself for you to erase the idea of him ditching you.

A hand fell to your shoulder, his face leaning into your range of sight and you let out the breath you were holding. “Hey, sorry I’m late. The professor wouldn’t let me go.”

You didn’t bother to turn to him, pout ever present as you rubbed your shoulder to get a bit of warmth. The wind was ruthless. “Wouldn’t want to keep such an artefact from discovery. Bet they had a lot to say.”

He still hadn’t let go of you, fingers instead tightening on your shoulder and bringing you closer to him, continuing to rub your grey jacket. You took a peek at him and he paused, cheeks puffed before he burst into laughter, making you look at him in wonder.

As he came back from it, his grin was still present, wide and shiny and rivalling the sun. The kind of expression that’s overwhelming, that makes your eyes crinkle and your mind foggy. It’s merciless in the way it lets the feeling seep through, surrounds with the sensation of allowing your defences to drop. It pulls you in and caresses your thoughts into melting, urging you to enjoy the moment. An endearment which is too familiar to you, but which had never risen from your essence and left drops of warmth and honeysuckle in its path.

Then, as an offence against your well-being, he said, ‘I’m glad you think so’, pulling you out of your daze.

You shook your head. This couldn’t be happening.

“Are we taking the bus this time too?” he said as he resumed to his usual distance.

“Uhh… that’s the plan.”

“Great! Let’s go!” he raised his eyebrows, challenging you with his power walk once again. The chances of you wearing the crown for the fastest walk were slim now that you had met Namjoon.

You didn’t even register the walk to the station, too preoccupied in trying to keep up with him and answer his questions about the guy at the venue as he was blurting out random ‘what an asshole’s. Paying for the ticket and squeezing between a swarm of people came as a blur as well until you were forced into Namjoon’s personal space, close enough to smell the wavering scent of his fabric softener. His gaze turned to you, face getting closer and making your eyes widen.

Namjoon opened his mouth to apologise, but you cut him off by reaching out and plugging one of the earbuds he removed to hear you back into his ear. With that, you turned around so your back was facing him, letting out a deep breath to even your heart rate. You didn’t remember crowded places having such an effect on you, though you supposed crowding anxiety developed at any age.

“How do you feel?”

“Focused,” you said. “I’m estimating the chance I’ll fail this.”

“Failure will never overtake you if your determination to succeed is strong enough.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Namjoon seemed to switch back to his shy persona, avoiding your gaze before his head snapped back to meet your eyes. “Just something to remember. Quotes like that usually calm my thoughts.”

It did make you calmer, just because you imagined Namjoon with his own suburban quote room. Maybe he was the type to read the quotes and meditate after, do a little yoga? Stretch those long legs and kicking other planets while he was at it? “Oh… thank you? Do you read them often?”

He nodded as he brought his cap down, bravery vanishing as the both of you entered the venue.

You grasped the modern twist that brought so many people in, that created a ballroom atmosphere even with the ordinary white curtains closed shut. Lines bloomed from the root of a crystal chandelier and served to separate the rose tones in pleasant shapes. Near their end, they were pulled from their seams and moulded to create another rose-gold halo, which reflected the light of the diamonds and poured right onto the glass-like floor. The thought that you’d be spending at least a day uninterrupted here was thrilling–it made you hide your hands behind your back, intertwine your fingers so you wouldn’t slip and touch.

If the place lured you into letting loose, the three-piece tailored to fit his frame posed a tightness to the chest area of the man waiting in the corner encouraged everything but. He surged forward with power stance and introduced himself to both of you, reaching out to shake Namjoon’s hand. You quirked an eyebrow as you exchanged names, sharing a confused look with him. Following his gestures, you studied both of their reactions with a careful eye as they shook hands, comforted by Namjoon’s lost gaze. At last, he moved to you, and you gripped with the biggest force your noodle arms could handle.

“Our pleasure.”

“We have provided a full course dinner with traditional dessert and listed our vegetarian options in the e-mail we sent. Our in-house catering accepts suggestions up to 10 days before the due date. You can only choose to switch a meal with another one that is available on our list.”

He led the two of you on a tour of the place, explaining the back door exits and pointing to the emergency pans plastered on the main hall. Alright. Positivity. It wasn’t so bad, Breast Man over there might’ve stored some sense of organization and compassion in those gigantic tits–

“The team will be available from the start of your appointment and continue till the end of the day. Anything after midnight will have to be covered by your service or paid for a fee.”

Your face fell.

“I–I don’t understand, if we paid for the entire day then how do they need to pay again?”

He beamed. “Nothing has been covered for the 31st.” Caught you without a reply and continued,

“The only thing ensured from one to seven a.m are the accommodations for the guests coming from abroad which will take place at our partners from Novotel.”

For fuck’s sake, were you about to argue with this asshole over the hours in a day?

“We reserve a full day of preparations, and it is recommended you visit during the week for a check. The rest, in case you want to you can reserve a date to establish the final changes to the menu, decoration, and other services that our team has covered.”

How you wished for the chandelier to drop down and split the earth so you’d never have to face this man again.

Despite the circumstances being turned against you and your temporary fluster, you tried to collect your thoughts enough to formulate an answer. In the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon tensing. “Of course. I have some right now Regarding the main-course. Swipe the vegetables for carrot puree and add caramel soy sauce. And we’d like–”

And then the head gears that caught up to you made you notice how he was doing nothing but stroll around like a pompous poodle, not paying any attention to you. Did he insist on meeting so he could stay here and attempt to intimidate you? Very funny, how you’ll show him–

The suggestions. Right.

Or not.

“We provide–”

“Sir, with all due respect–” The rest of your cognitive functions not responsible for speech lounged to watch another episode of your embarrassment. “Having a set schedule for the guests is impractical since each plane has its own set-off time. Leaving them with no place to stay for possible hours on end is impolite, and I… I think that it’s not an image your business strives to have…” Your confidence was leaving you like your last hope, but by his face you were making some points. Namjoon remained quiet next to you, nodding on occasion and making little sounds to support your words. Being a beginner in the art of scamming, neither of you could find a strong enough argument for all of his schemes, but you remained tough, defending Yuna’s choices in front of this food and muscle growth connoisseur.

Annoyed from your end and sure to have picked on your guard dog behaviours, tight suit ended up noting the food changes and finalised the details for your next meeting, part of him left unsatisfied, from the way he was watching you and Namjoon. Maybe it was the chest. Then, as if struck with a revelation that will make his horns show at last, he smirked down at you.

“Business aside, it’s a little early to get married, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, body stiffening as you processed his words. You were doing your best, but the feeling was already weighing upon your chest at the mention of doubt regarding the couple. This guy. “Sure, a little early for me to–”

Without a word, you felt Namjoon’s pinky lock with yours before gripping your entire hand and enclosing it in its own. You stopped in your tracks, struggling to think of something else. “to… make a decision, but for them, it’s not. They love each other a lot. They’ll be so happy to be married.” You nodded to yourself, 100% sure of what you were saying as you squeezed Namjoon’s hand unconsciously.

With that, you got out of the situation in one piece, arrangement still intact but with a neon purple bruise to your ego. Devil man made you promise you’d call and schedule another meeting, this time with the staff for decoration as he seemed to milk the last seconds of his scammer persona.

As he was all jittery, you waited for him to release his grip, but, to your surprise, you found yourself pulled further from the building.

“I apologise,” Namjoon whispered, his hand hanging onto your open one.

“Huh?”

“That guy, ugh–he’s very good at making people lose their temper. That was ridiculous.” He puffed, at the limit of frustration and something you couldn’t decipher.“I didn’t know what to say or if you wanted me to say anything. I don’t know, I guess–I didn’t want to discredit you. Not in front of him. Not e-”

He switched to your still intertwined fingers and watched as the tips of your fingers dragged against his. You let them drop back to your sides as you watched his, curling around his denim pocket. You never looked at him, too focused on trying to pick each line running through your head to notice him getting lost in the distance between your hands.

“Namjoon?”

The words died on the tip of his tongue. “Mmm?”

“How was I?”

“Uh…You were fine, got a little carried away at the end. But that’s–we need to talk about–”

You shushed him, a rush of motivation hitting you. Blame it on sparkly eyes, your lack of care for yourself, the moon, Mercury in Retrograde. You were thirsty, and you were going to do something about it. Or that’s what you kept telling yourself.

“Forget it. Let’s go get that tea.”

a/n: and part 1 done! feedback means the world to me and i’ve been working on this for like two months so pleathe tell me ur thoughts! peace! its gonna get spicier in the next parts but we had 2 establish some ground...ehehe ;) thx to miss liana @yuengi for being the sexiest wife n beta possibol.!!!

[harley-sunday]

The Draw (04)

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end...

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 3175

AN: For those of you have been around a little longer - this story was originally published on my secondary blog Leijona Writes, but then taken down again, so you may have already read it :) I don’t have a taglist, but if you follow Harley Sunday x Sebastian Stan you should see any update I post. Please let me know what you think!

Masterlist

“I’ll make it up to you at the after-party, ok?”

Sebastian’s words keep replaying in your head and so you’re a little distracted when Julie picks you up to go the theater for the movie screening shortly after he’s left. She’s talking about something but you don’t really hear what she’s saying and so you simply follow her.

The room she leads you into is big and it’s filled with people. You are pulled out of your daze by all the press walking past you on their way to the back rows where they’ll be seated during the movie. You try to act casual, nodding to a few of them as they pass you, as if this is a regular occurrence for you. You follow Julie to a row somewhere in the middle, Sebastian already seated a few chairs down from the aisle. There a couple of empty seats between you and him, just like there are on his other side.

“We like to give everyone some space,” Julie explains when she sees your confused look.

Your eyes dart across the room and you see what she means - except for the press area, which is packed, there are quite a few empty rows and seats in between the groups of people scattered across the room.

Julie gives you a little push then, just as the lights are dimmed, “Have fun, and wait for me to pick you up after, ok?”

You nod and watch over your shoulder as she walks a couple of rows back, where the other Marvel employees must be seated. You take the few steps needed to get to your chair and sit down next to Sebastian, who’s keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him until the room’s almost dark.

He turns to you then and smiles, “Hey,”

“Hey,” you smile back.

He gestures to his left, where a little table has been set up, filled with snacks and drinks, “Can I get you anything?”

“Just a water for now, thank you,” you reply, your voice hushed as the murmur around you dies down. Your fingers brush his hand ever so slightly as you take the glass from him and you look at him, smiling, “Thank you.”

The curtains are lifted then and your attention is on the screen, where the Russo brothers have appeared on stage to introduce the movie. Their speech is short, but heartfelt, and as soon as they step off stage the room goes completely dark and the Marvel logo appears on screen. You lean back in your chair, forgetting everything around you as the newest Avengers movie starts playing.

“Holy shit!” you curse quietly when you see what’s happening on screen. Next to you, you feel Sebastian tense up and you wonder if it’s because you scared him or if there’s something worse about to come but you don’t even get to finish that thought because the next scene makes you jump in surprise and you don’t even realize you have grabbed a hold of Sebastian’s arm until you hear him chuckle slightly, patting your hand with his.

“Shit, sorry,” you whisper, looking down and releasing your death grip.

He keeps his hand on yours though, mouth close to your ear when he whispers, “You might want to keep it there for a little while longer,”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the credits start rolling, and carefully run your pinkies underneath your eyes, trying to dry your tears before the lights come on.

Next to you, Sebastian leans into you, “I’ll see at the party, ok?”

You nod and watch as he gets up, smooths out his dress jacket and walks past you to the exit, making his way to the press event. You see more and more people getting up, but your eyes are back on the screen again, waiting for the infamous Marvel teaser at the end of every movie. It does not disappoint.

Julie slips into the seat beside you once the lights have been turned on again and is all smiles, “So, what do you think?”

You shake your head, still not believing what you just saw, “It was amazing!”

“Right?” Julie agrees, “I think this is the best one yet.” She looks at her watch then, “We might as well make our way to the bar now, everyone’s gathering there for the after-party anyway.”

“Ok,” you agree and get up, following her through to a set of doors different from the ones you came into, finding yourself in a dimly lit bar, with sitting areas scattered across the room and a dance floor in the middle. Everything is black and white, from the bar itself to the chairs, to the art that’s hanging on the walls and you look around in amazement, trying to take it all in.

You order a glass of white from one of the waiters and stand at one of the round high tables together with Julie who’s pointing out some of her colleagues to you as a way to kill time. You’re thankful she’s so chatty because for some reason you’re feeling slightly nervous. With your back towards the wall you position yourself so you have a good view of the entrance, being able to keep an eye on things without having to look over your shoulder all the time.  

A waiter brings you your wine just as the double doors open and most of the cast walks in, their excitement filling the room, drawing applause and cheers from the people there. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking for Sebastian, but you don’t see him yet and so you focus on Julie again, certain that he’ll find you once he gets here.

It’s hard for you to focus on the small-talk Julie’s attempting to engage you in, and so your eyes wander across the room. A group of two guys and a girl approach your table and you guess they must be Julie’s colleagues from the way she greets them enthusiastically. The girl, Fiona, seems nice and turns out to be the girlfriend of the first guy, Jason, who just nods in hello. It’s the second guy that grabs your attention though, and it’s not because he’s obviously checking you out, but also because he looks so much like Mark you actually have to do a double take to make sure it’s not him. But then he introduces himself and you hear the infamous North Carolina drawl that Mark hated so much and you let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Are you ok?” Adam asks, brows knitted together in confusion.

“Yeah,” you nod, scrambling your brain for an explanation, “it’s just, it sounds like you’re from my neck of the woods.”

He smiles then, a little nod when he says, “Union County, North Carolina. You?”

“Charlotte,” you reply, even though you don’t really want to have this conversation right now. He looks so much like Mark that it makes you a bit uneasy and you’re trying to suppress the memories that are starting to resurface.

“So practically neighbors then,” Adam grins. “You don’t seem to have the accent though,” he remarks, before taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m import,” you offer, because honestly it’s not his fault he reminds you of Mark and that you’re anxiously waiting for Sebastian to come and sweep you away, “born and raised in New York, but moved to Charlotte when I started at UNC and never left.”

“And why would you?” Adam says with another grin. He starts telling you about how it’s funny because he actually went to NYU but you’re only half listening because you see Sebastian come in then, his eyes darting across the room before landing on yours just as Adam throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he finishes his story, “North Carolina, for life, am I right?”

You look up at him, trying your best to smile but shrugging his arm off all the same. You don’t like it when people you hardly know touch you. You try to find Sebastian again, but seem to have lost him amongst the crowd and you let out a frustrated sigh.

Adam is already onto another conversation, trying to explain to Fiona and Jason why he thinks everyone should live in New York at least once during their twenties, but neither of them seem to be paying much attention to him either.

Julie gently taps your shoulder then, “Sebastian just got here,” she points to the far corner of the room, “his table is over there somewhere, do you want me to walk you there?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” you smile, happy to relieve her of her babysitting duties. You grab your clutch from the table and open your arms to give her a hug, “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me, Julie, I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” she says, squeezing you tight. She lets go of you and smiles, “Listen, I know you’re not leaving until Wednesday, so if you have some time to spare let me know, ok? Maybe you could come over for dinner or something.”

“I will,” you reply with a grateful smile, “Let’s keep in touch either way, ok?”

“Definitely,” she beams back before gently shoving you in the right direction.

You give her one last wink over your shoulder and make your way across the room, the train of your dress flowing behind you, making you feel like you’re on your own personal runway and you giggle at the thought. You’re almost at level with the bar when all of a sudden you’re yanked back and you stumble, trying to keep your balance. So much for being the next supermodel.

“Oh, shit,” you hear behind you and you turn around to see Chris Evans step off your dress, looking absolutely horrified. He holds out his hands, “Shit, I am so sorry!”

You can’t help but laugh at how guilty he looks, “It’s ok, really.”

But he’s already bending down, picking up the train and examining it, letting out a relieved sigh when he realizes it’s not ripped. He carefully places it back down and looks at you, “Let me at least buy you a drink for nearly tripping you,”

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” you grin, and follow him to the bar where the bartender takes your order.

Leaning against the bar he turns to you and holds out his hand, “I’m Chris, by the way,”

“I know,” you say, taking his hand, then shaking your head at your reply. “I mean, nice to meet you,” you try again with a smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

His face lights up then, “You’re the Comic Con, girl, right?”

You look at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, because yes, technically you are the Comic Con girl, but how would he know?

He must sense your confusion, “Seb told me about it,” he explains, his hand on your arm then, “Listen, tell your nephew Captain America really was sorry for not making it.”

You stifle a laugh, “Will do,” not having the heart to tell him that ever since Comic Con he’s been downgraded to number three on Jake’s favorite superheroes list, now behind the Winter Soldier and Falcon.

Your drinks are put in front of you then and he holds up his bottle of beer for you to clink your glass against, “Cheers,”

“Cheers,” you join in, taking a sip of your drink. “Listen,” you start, just as Chris says, “You were probably on your way to Sebastian, right?”

You laugh, “Yeah,”

“Well go on then,” he says, gently nudging your shoulder with his, “I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks for the drink,” you say, holding up your glass one more time, a cheeky grin on your lips when you say, “And you know, for not ripping my dress and exposing me to the entire room earlier.”

Chris lets out a loud laugh and you see him grabbing his left pec as you turn and head towards Sebastian’s table, a smile on your lips.

You find him talking to Anthony when you get there and he nods at you, not really acknowledging you any further, and you wonder what’s going on but then the woman sitting next to Anthony gets up and introduces herself as Sheletta, Anthony’s wife, compliments your dress in the most genuine way and tells you to come sit with her.

The conversation with her flows effortlessly after that, another woman from across the table joining in when you’re talking about growing up in New York and you are surprised at how nice everyone is to you. Well, everyone except Sebastian, who still hasn’t said anything.

So much for making it up at the after-party, you think to yourself.

About four glasses of wine later you look at your phone and see it’s already three at night and you realize that’s why you’ve started to feel a little tired although your head is also slightly buzzing from the alcohol. You look over to your left, finding both Anthony’s and Sebastian’s seat empty and you decide right then that you might as well go back to the hotel, because apparently Sebastian’s not the gentlemen you thought he was.

You know you’re probably not being entirely fair to him, there must be more important people he has to speak to, but you really don’t feel like sitting around, waiting for him to come talk to you. You take your clutch from the table and thank Sheletta for the nice evening, excusing yourself. You all but storm out of the room, only to be stopped by a concerned-looking Julie.

“Are you ok?” she asks, her cheeks red and speech slightly slurred from celebrating the movie’s release with a few cocktails no doubt.

You nod, “Yeah, just tired.” You give her another hug and tell her to enjoy the party. As an afterthought you add, “Will you please thank Sebastian for inviting me?”

You see a look of confusion pass across her face, but you don’t want to have to explain so you turn and walk out of the bar before she has a chance to say anything, making your way to the exit where you haul a cab to take you back to the hotel.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour once you step into your room about thirty minutes later and you keep going back and forth between being grateful that Sebastian’s even invited you to the premiere, and thinking he’s an utter asshole for ignoring you most of the night.

You fling your clutch on the bed, before your dress ends up in a pile on the floor somewhere and you aggressively wipe your makeup off, your cheeks reddened from scrubbing too hard. After brushing your teeth, you put on the NCU shirt that you use as pajamas and get into bed. There are tears burning in your eyes when you let everything sink in, but you wipe at them aggressively, refusing to cry over something that never was. Instead you take your phone out of your clutch and pull up your texting app, sending a quick text to your best friend.

Call me when you’re up.

Your phone rings not even a minute later and you realize it’s already six-thirty in Charlotte and Lauren is probably ready to go to the gym. For once you’re glad she’s such a ridiculous morning person. You take the call with a simple, “Hey,”

“Oh no,” she replies, her voice dropping, “not good?”

You shake your head even though she can’t see you, “Not really, no,”

“Talk to me, babe,”

And you do. You tell her about the amazing day you’ve had, starting with the beauty salon and ending in the lobby just before the screening. You lean back into your pillow and sigh, “And from then on he pretty much ignored me.”

You think you hear her whisper a quiet, “Fuck him,” but you’re not sure and so you continue.

“I guess I get it, you know? I mean, technically he did invite me to come to the premiere, he never said anything about spending time with-”

“Babe,” Lauren interrupts, “come on! This doesn’t add up. He flies you out to L.A., and remember, it wasn’t just you to start with, it was Nathan and Sarah and Jake too,”

“Hmm” you agree quietly.

“You’re in a nice hotel, fully paid for, even after you say you’d like to stay a couple of days longer,” she tuts then. “It just doesn’t make any sense that he would do all that and then not talk to you for the entire night.”

You let out a sigh, “But why then?”

“I don’t know,” she says and you can hear she’s just as clueless as you are.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you say, feeling a little defeated. “It is what it is.”

“You are staying in L.A. though, right?”

“Yeah,” you reply, matter-of-factly, “I don’t see why not. I could do with some me-time,”

“Yass,” Lauren agrees, and you can imagine her nodding fiercely, knowing that what you need right now is some encouragement instead of tough love. “Treat yo self, girl!”

You laugh then, “What is it you always say?”

“You are a strong independent woman who don’t need no man,” Lauren deadpans immediately, laughing with you.

“I do need some sleep though,”

“Call me later today, ok?” Lauren says, concern seeping through her voice and you love her for it.

“I will,” you agree, knowing she’s just looking out for you, “Love you.”

“Love you too, babe,”

You wake up from the sun peaking in between the curtains that in your anger you forgot to close all the way last night and you look at your phone, seeing it’s already eleven. You groan, still feeling a little frustrated at what happened. Getting out of bed you decide to take a shower first and have breakfast somewhere after, before exploring the city some more in the afternoon.

The shower actually helps and you feel a bit better when you walk into the room again, dressed in dark jeans and a white singlet, and you open the curtains all the way, the sun at its highest point, the sky a clear blue. You quickly make your bed and pick your dress up off the floor, draping it over the chair in the corner.

You put your hair in a messy bun before you put on a simple white dress shirt, rolling up the sleeves as you walk to the closet to get your white Converse. You’ve just put on your shoes when there’s a knock on your door. Without thinking too much about who it could be, you open the door, surprised to see Sebastian standing there.

“Hi,” he says, looking at you from underneath his lashes, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “Can I come in?”

[twilight-resonance]

Senses

Well, it’s been quite a while. Been busy. Feel like I haven’t had enough time for my own projects, much less anything else that needs to get happening. Here’s a summary, then I’ll keep talking.

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

Like I said, been busy. Said goodbye to an old friend before she moves to another state; otherwise it’s been a flurry of working on timejumps and related preparation. In the middle of that, I ended up losing several years’ worth of work and all of my most recent work (including the timejump prep) to a compute malfunction, so that’s been both a setback and a discouragement. Lots of other obligations - ordering contacts, buying new equipment, catching up on cleaning, all that such-and-such. There have been smaller things too: experimenting with a new soup recipe for setting day and deciding to do something else instead (although it was still good), made cookies just because, replaced my phone finally, and so on. Mostly it’s timejump work that’s been taking up, well, time. Moving on, then.

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

I’m feeling a bit dispirited tonight, and my urge is to write about my feelings for a bit; but I’d like to alternate between lighter things and heavier things, because it’s easier to write when I feel heavy but writing both will be good for me. So I’m going to aim light tonight.

Tonight’s topic is senses, inspired by the fact that I am running out of contact lenses and as such have been mostly blind today. It’s anyone’s guess when they’ll ship and reach me, so I’m stretching them for a couple upcoming dates (just LARP - but you try LARPing half-blind). It’s not about the blindness specifically; just about senses in general and my own experience of, you know, having them.

As one can gather from above, my vision is atrocious. I like to think I do fairly well despite it - even with my contacts out, I’m fairly good at picking up on color and especially movement, to the point where it’s hard to tell that I can’t actually see much - but even corrected, it’s still not fantastic. I think it gets a lot of support from my other senses, which helps; and it’s something I often use consciously rather than automatically, which surely helps too. Without correction, though, things start becoming blurry about six inches from my face. So days like today - when I don’t have any vision correction - many things become hard. Working is much harder, especially given most of what I do during the week is read and write. Cooking, cleaning, and other chores often have to lean heavily into touch, and I try to avoid doing anything complicated. Watching movies becomes listening to moves, and understanding anyone talk becomes harder too (apparently I rely on facial expressions a lot for comprehension - everyone does, but even so). 

So like I said - I lean into other senses a lot. Something I said to Artkestral the other day that I still stand by is that I think my sense of smell is probably better than my vision. I can tell specific people by scent, I can often figure out where something otherwise-inconnuous is located by smell, I can tell if someone who used a bathroom before me is male or female (things I do not want to know, but get to anyway). Often I sense upcoming weather changes by smell before anything else. I think there’s a lot of people with similar senses of smell who hate strong smells in general, but I’m quite the opposite - I love having strong smells around me all the time. Perfume, incense, spices, you name it. One of the things I love best about memory is the way it’s triggered by smell, because my “smell catalogue” is so broad and deep - I love the way that every place and person has their own scents, and the way those scents are a unique combination of the touchstones of their existence. So that’s smell. Apparently I can wax poetic about smell. Taste in in a similar vein, the two being connected; I love strong, complicated flavors and often cook with many spices. 

Hearing is an odd one, I suppose. I feel like my hearing is lopsided. In that specific sounds - listening for something - is often a bit harder for me, but interpreting what I hear is much better. If I can hear an animal in the brush, I’ve usually got a good sense how big it is an what it’s doing; if someone I know is walking up behind me, I can generally tell who; if it’s pitch dark out, I can navigate by a sort of hearing that’s almost more like “pressure” - I can tell that it’s based in sound, but it’s like I can feel higher pressure where there are solid objects and navigate based on that, whether indoors or in open spaces. I figure it has to do with acoustics and sound either meeting a surface or not, but I don’t have a great understanding of whatever physics might be involved. 

Then there’s touch. Touch is a big one that I engage with all the time, and that’s a large part of how I experience the world. I’m constantly touching things, as my almost-first way to greet a thing - not people obviously, but if there’s a interesting plant I’m often going to be touching it before I’ve fully registered all the visuals associated with it. (Yes, I think ahead enough to make sure I’m not touching anything poison.) It often feels like being able to touch makes my brain go - museums without a lot of touchable drive me crazy, because it feels like something isn’t being fulfilled. Give me interactables any day, and I’ll be happy. Feeling is as important as doing the touching - be it feeling changes in the weather or environment, physical input from my body in the form of soreness or strain, or touches in the form of affection. Like smell, it’s a sense that I enjoy a lot and that I’m constantly plugged into in some ways even before sight. 

Then there’s all those other senses - balance, temperature, orientation, all those things. None of them are things I think about enough to be part of my experience in a conscious way, but they’re naturally contributing in an everyday- background sort of way. 

None of this is earth-shattering, of course; it’s just something I like to think about, and of course a lighter topic as well. It’s one of those things where, someone’s experience of their own reality can be very different from someone else’s; it’s always interesting listening to how people I know experience these things, because often not only is it different from my own answer, it’s so alien I wouldn’t have even considered it. One’s sensory experience of the world is one of those things that’s so inherent to our existence that I think it’s hard to conceive of it any other way. 

So that’s me. Them’s my senses. I’m going to go to bed now, like I promised Hearthsnail. G’night.

[briangroth27]

Stranger Things 2 Review

Stranger Things’ second season went up on Netflix last weekend and I loved it! Every episode felt full, many supporting characters from Season 1 got a turn in the spotlight, and the tone recaptured the first season’s perfect blend of dread and comedic moments that endeared me to the realistically-drawn characters. This was the television season I was looking forward to most this fall, and it did not disappoint!

Full Spoilers…

I really liked that Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin), and especially Will (Noah Schnapp) got to take center stage among the kids; it was smart to flesh out the rest of the central ensemble and it feels like we’ll be going into Season 3 with everyone on relatively equal footing development-wise. In particular, Will being absent for much of Season 1 made his time in the spotlight a crucial gamble that paid off in spades: Schnapp is just as great an actor as the rest of the show’s cast! That said, I missed Mike (Finn Wolfhard), Nancy (Natalia Dyer), and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton), who all felt like they had less screentime this year than last. While the latter two weren’t doing nothing—they had a crucial subplot that felt like the natural outgrowth of how the people of Hawkins ignored Barb’s (Shannon Purser) death—it didn’t require them to do much that we needed to see onscreen, so it felt like they vanished a bit. Perhaps Wolfhard, Dyer, and Heaton had other commitments while Season 2 was in production, but if that’s the case, I wish their plots had been more economical to cover more ground in the same amount of screentime.

Season 2 definitely felt like the natural continuation of Season 1’s events; branding this as Stranger Things 2 instead of Stranger Things Season 2 gives the impression that it’s a sequel instead of the next season in a TV series, and it definitely feels like it. I’ve seen some criticisms that said the joy of discovery wasn’t present this year like last season, but I’m willing to part with it in favor of reuniting with familiar friends on a new adventure. I like sequels and I’m always game for more time with characters I like. Though the threads may not have been as balanced as they could’ve been, I liked that everyone got to go off on their own adventures before reuniting in the climax. Mixing up the character interactions and moving new people into the spotlight provided some great fresh pairings, like Lucas/Max (Sadie Sink), Dustin/Steve (Joe Keery), Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown)/Hopper (David Harbour), and Will/Joyce (Winona Ryder)/Bob (Sean Astin). As nice as it was to see familiar locations like the junkyard come into play again, it’s time to flesh out more of Hawkins’ geography, as it’s starting to feel a little claustrophobic. New locations like the arcade definitely help, though. I loved that the Upside Down was creeping into Hawkins at an accelerated rate, creating some great imagery with the rotted pumpkin patches, decaying forests, and vine-covered tunnels just beneath its surface. Hawkins looks like the quintessential 1980s Hometown, USA, so corrupting it like this is great symbolism. However, I would’ve liked a greater exploration of the townspeople’s inhumanity and grime just below the veneer of wholesomeness the town projects. So much of Stranger Things is inspired by Stephen King as it is—the Duffer Brothers originally wanted to do IT, but couldn’t—so translating the brilliant parallel between societal evils and supernatural ones in IT’s Derry to Hawkins would’ve been a smart way to give the Upside Down’s corruption a little more weight by contrasting its evil with the evils of the real world. By no means does the Upside Down have to control the citizens to make them evil—that would be a copout—but seeing that some of the people are horrible in their own way would bring an added layer of dread to the town and further cut off our heroes’ sources of help. Billy (Dacre Montgomery) and his father (Will Chase) are a good start, but surely they aren’t the only bad people in town.

I loved how communicating through lights evolved into the map of tunnels beneath Hawkins and hope that distinctive Stranger Things aspect continues to develop in the years to come. Joyce seeing the Mind Flayer in a VHS tape’s distortion was very cool too. The CGI was excellent throughout the season, particularly when it came to the Demodogs. There wasn’t a moment as creepy as Hopper cutting open the Will dummy and pulling out cotton in Season 1, but then there wasn’t any moment in Season 1 that matched that high point of weirdness either. Even so, the horror aspect was great here! It felt like several supporting and even a few main characters—including Hopper and Steve—could die at several points. I wonder if the season-ending Snow Ball was supposed to represent that the heroes don’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of escaping the evil pervading their town (or maybe that’s just my love of puns). I wasn’t a fan of the year-and-a-half wait for this season and don’t look forward to another long hiatus, but if Stranger Things becomes an annual Halloween tradition for the next 2-3 years, I’m definitely on board. I was impressed that the trailers didn’t show much from the latter half of the season; that was a nice surprise!

I loved all the 80s references this year, with things like the Aliens movement detector sound effect being incorporated into the score during some of Dr. Owens’ (Paul Reiser) scenes and a riff that sounded like Gremlins’ theme song while the kids were chasing Dart in the school. The kid-friendly Halloween songs they used while trick-or-treating, like “The Monster Mash,” “Ghostbusters,” and “Spooky Movies,” made me think of Halloween when I was a kid (it’s a shame they couldn’t use “Thriller” in more than one excellent trailer, though!). The Police’s “Every Step You Take” was the perfect note to end on, given the government watching everyone all season, the Mind Flayer watching the Snow Ball, and how creepy that song actually is. The show’s orchestral score once again conveyed the feeling that this was a lost miniseries from the 80s perfectly. The fashion in Eleven’s Chicago adventure made me think of the 80s X-men/New Mutants comics, which was a cool peek at 80s punk style completely removed from Hawkins’ small-town world. The kids’ homemade Ghostbusters costumes were awesome, as were Max’s Michael Myers costume and Steve & Nancy’s Tom Cruise & Rebecca De Mornay (from Risky Business) outfits. While the characters played out scenes adapted from Gremlins, ET, Stand By Me, and even Jurassic Park, it never felt like nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake or inorganic to what the show is. The Goonies reference in Bob’s guess about what Will’s map led to was fun too. As pointed out in the behind-the-scenes series Beyond Stranger Things, having the kids play Dragon’s Lair and Dig Dug were cool hints at the direction of the season, since Eleven would go up against a “fiery” monster in the gate room/its “lair” and several characters ventured into the tunnels under the town. The kids’ science class learning about Phineas Gage was also a cool way to foreshadow what happens to Will, since Gage’s personality changed after his brain-damaging accident. I’m looking forward to the Back to the Future references next season, since it’ll be 1985. With the Upside Down monsters being so plant-like, maybe we’ll get Little Shop of Horrors references in Season 4/1986? 

Possibly the largest controversy of the season dealt with Eleven’s solo trip to Chicago in episode 7. I liked the episode, but it shouldn’t have aired in the middle of a cliffhanger: it disrupted the flow too much. Without Eleven in the preceding episode at all, they could’ve split “The Lost Sister” up and cut back and forth between Chicago and Hawkins in both “The Spy” and the reconfigured Episode 7, just like the earlier legs of Eleven’s journey were interspersed with the events in Hawkins. If the contrast between Chicago’s punk scene and Hawkins’ wholesome appearance were too extreme to cut back and forth, “Lost Sister” could have been placed before “The Spy.” I agree with a comment I saw on IGN’s “Lost Sister” review, which pointed out watching it first would show Mike and Hopper in danger before we knew what was happening (Mike screaming “it’s a trap” would spoil the twist, so just show him struggling with the guards and not saying that line), which would be a cool teaser. Either of those solutions would’ve been better than the jarring—but still engaging—side trip to Chicago taking up an entire episode in the middle of a Demodog swarm.

Eleven/Jane Ives Though she was sequestered from the rest of the main cast for most of the season, I liked a lot of what they did with Eleven/Jane this year. I loved the secret family she and Hopper built. Their conversation about being “halfway happy” in compromise was bittersweet and I liked seeing how they figured each other out, both in real time and in flashbacks to the start of their hidden family. Moments like their father/daughter arguments were relatable, things like Eleven wanting to go trick-or-treating as a ghost and awkwardly laughing at Hopper trying to dance were fun, and her psychic temper tantrum felt both realistic and worked as a reminder that she is definitely dangerous. Regarding those fights, it was smart to allow Hopper and Eleven to be angry with each other, but never to let them get to the point where they truly hated each other. That made them coming together again in the end believable instead of a last minute moment of civility that was supposed to make up for nine hours of hatred.

Eleven being instantly jealous about Max and Mike seemingly having fun together didn’t work as well and annoyed me a bit—especially since she knew he’d been calling her every day for nearly a year—but she’s a kid who’s been locked up and abused for a long time and you don’t have to look past her time with Hopper to see she isn’t perfect or eternally understanding, especially when it comes to seeing beyond appearances. Meeting her birth mother (Aimee Mullins) and learning as much as she could about her was emotionally satisfying and it was cool to see Terry Ives was as much a fighter in the end as her daughter. I felt Eleven’s side story in Chicago was a worthy use of her time that brought her to a place where her vengeance and feelings weren’t as important as those of people she didn’t know—she discovered empathy for strangers when she considered orphaning Ray’s (Pruitt Taylor Vince) kids—and that was a great development for her character. I just wish she hadn’t continued to shun Max once she got back to Hawkins; the two of them having a talk would’ve been better, because shutting down Max’s attempt at being friends undercuts much of the understanding she found in Chicago (not to mention at that point, she was yet another person shutting Max out, which had become repetitive). Along with bonding with Max in Season 3, I’d love to see Eleven and Will finally get to interact and become friends (and maybe even step-siblings?) when he isn’t trapped or possessed. Developing a friendship between the two would be a smart outgrowth of the many parallels between them—Eleven was even mistaken for Will at several points in Season 1—and I’m sure their connection to the Upside Down would be a powerful bonding factor. I loved that she got to shut down this year’s invasion by finally closing the gate she’d opened in the first place; the Mind Flayer will definitely remember both her and Will, so perhaps they’ll face its early attacks together.

Mike Wheeler At first it seemed like Mike wasn’t given much to do this year beyond being angry/depressed about Eleven vanishing and concerned about Will. I understand the reasoning for both—I think he actually was experiencing the “anniversary effect” of PTSD Dr. Owens thought Will was going through—but I would’ve liked to see more variety to the writing in his scenes. Then I watched Beyond Stranger Things and realized Wolfhard’s understanding of Mike this season is brilliant: he can’t impress his friends by constructing D&D maps and running campaigns since everyone’s into video games now, he can’t lead a quest to save Will (until Byers’ major episode at Halloween, though even then, Joyce leads that charge), and he can’t even find Eleven, much less help her or have her as his secret friend. I love that this builds him missing Eleven into a larger problem of him losing his place as leader of the team. Matarazzo also pointed out that while the kids struggled to find someone to talk to about what they’d been through with the threat of the government hanging over them, Mike was the sorest about being the leader who’d saved the day and couldn’t talk about it with anyone. With this in mind, the entire season focusing more on Will, Dustin, and Lucas becomes something of Mike’s view of his friends after losing his place in the group. I agree with a comment I saw elsewhere that wished Mike had gone off to find Eleven on his own, meeting up in Chicago; as impractical as that might’ve been for a kid in real life (but not in a movie), it would’ve given his feeling of being out of place a direction instead of watching as Joyce, Hopper, and Bob worked out how to help Will. That said, I absolutely loved how angry Mike got about Steve telling the kids they were on the bench during the climax, as that’s exactly what his dad (Joe Chrest) had been saying in lectures earlier in the season. That was a moment where his need to have a place and function in the group coalesced with the plot perfectly, since he (and the other kids) had literally been left out of the plan to defeat the Mind Flayer.

Still, Mike wasn’t one-note in his struggle to belong this year and Wolfhard played all the sides Mike showed very well. Mike essentially eulogizing Bob by knowing he helped found the AV Club was a glimpse at a distinct texture to a relationship we didn’t see onscreen, though I assume Mike and Bob interacted at least a little while Mike was hanging out with Will. I liked the brief scene of Mike almost having fun with Max in the gym, even if otherwise constantly shutting her out wasn’t a good look at all. He doesn’t have to be perfect, but I would’ve liked more reason to not let her in than what I took from it: a girl in the group reminded him too much of Eleven. Perhaps she represented too much change happening to the party in general: if she joined, he thought she’d be another person moving him out of relevance within the group (particularly considering how invested in her Dustin and Lucas were). I liked Mike reclaiming his position a bit with Will, comforting him after his Halloween episode and propping up his courage as their spy; those felt like great moments of their friendship we didn’t get to see much of last year since Will was missing. I’m sure they felt like old times for Mike as well: finally he got to be the old Mike, at least to an extent. Mike screaming at Hopper and even attacking him for hiding Eleven for nearly a year was another great scene. I didn’t see that reaction coming and both actors delivered powerful performances. Mike’s dedication to calling Eleven every day was touching and, as pointed out on Beyond Stranger Things, I liked that they got to be reunited in two very different contexts at both the besieged Byers house and the Snow Ball. Unlike Nancy and Jonathan, this may imply Mike and Eleven’s friendship/relationship is stronger than just being pulled together in times of tragedy and high drama (not to say a middle school dance is without drama!).

Dustin Henderson Not only did Dustin have a love triangle to contend with this year, but he also found a pet from the Upside Down and discovered an excellent, unlikely surrogate brother in Steve. It was also great to get a glimpse of his home life and I hope we see more of his relationship with his mom (Catherine Curtin) next year. I liked Dustin’s friendship with baby Demodog D’Artagnan—and that it had a payoff in the end—but he shouldn’t have lied about his cat’s death to his mom. Allowing her to go on searching for it when she clearly loved it so much was a little cruel and the exact thing Nancy and Jonathan spent the season fighting. Watering down the truth would’ve worked here; he could’ve just said a wild animal got it. Dustin comparing lying about keeping a dangerous animal to Lucas bringing Max in on the Eleven secret didn’t seem equivalent at first, but then I remembered that anyone else finding out could lead to everyone’s death by cover-up. I liked Dustin’s resigned position that he’d accept being removed from the party for his disloyalty especially after he was the one to enforce the rules of reconciliation when Mike and Lucas had their falling out in Season 1. I also appreciated him accepting Lucas and Max getting together instead of flying into a jealous rage, which wouldn’t have been in-character or fitting at all. Matarazzo’s explanation that Dustin thought discovering a new species of slimy lizard would impress Max because his mom laughs off the things that excite him—so he thinks that’s what all girls like—was a cool example of Dustin’s inability to see what’s in front of his face when he’s overcome with excitement, much like he doesn’t consider the somewhat obvious truth about Dart’s origins. That Dustin got a heroic moment at the end by standing up to Dart so the others could flee was great; that made up for the danger he put them in earlier.

I loved Dustin’s brotherly bond with Steve and this was my favorite new bit of chemistry of the season. Pairing Dustin with Steve while they were both heartbroken and on the same ends of love triangles worked well to bond them. I’m also glad the series’ format allowed for leisurely scenes like Dustin and Steve strolling down some railroad tracks discussing hair products. Character bits like that go a long way to not only endear the characters to the audience, but they also show us what they’re like in (relatively) normal circumstances. I want more of these moments for every character in the coming seasons. I liked Steve trying to give Dustin advice about girls, even if he was wrong that acting like you don’t care about women makes them like you (Nancy moving on after Jonathan didn’t make a move for a month proves this). On the other hand, he was right about reading the electricity between you and someone you like, and trying to explain that to Dustin was a funny moment. Steve driving Dustin to the Snow Ball and giving him some parting courage was a perfect culmination of their brotherly arc. I loved Dustin’s “Steve” hairdo and while his walk around the dance continually getting shot down was sad, Matarazzo acted it so well! I also love that Dustin’s reaction to being shot down wasn’t played as though Steve was wrong about being confident, but (according to Matarazzo) that he’s not Steve Harrington. That’s not only more tragic, but it perfectly references Dustin’s insecurities about not being Mike’s best friend like Will and Lucas are because he only met the guys in fourth grade. I hope Season 3 has Dustin finding the confidence to live up to his own potential, rather than just being the best person he can in relation to someone else’s standard. If he’s infected with the spores from the tunnels and they corrupt him in some fashion, that may be the perfect vehicle to force that confrontation on him.

Lucas Sinclair Like Dustin, I enjoyed getting to see Lucas’ home life a lot. Lucas’ sister Erica (Priah Ferguson) was an especially hilarious addition to the cast and her attitude played off Lucas’ perfectly; here’s hoping she returns in a major way next year! His parents’ (Karen Ceesay, Arnell Powell) advice about women was humorous as well. I thought it was funny that the most nuclear families, the Sinclairs and Wheelers, feature parents who don’t seem particularly involved in their kids’ lives at all, though I was happy to see the Sinclairs seemed much happier together than Mike and Nancy’s parents. Lucas navigating how to handle his crush on Max was a fun plot that added depth to him and their banter was a lot of fun as well. He also proved Steve’s advice wrong by giving Max what she wanted and showing her he cared about her. I liked their bonding moments, particularly on top of the bus in the junkyard. Watching Lucas practice lines in the mirror before the dance was also great! His argument with Mike about the coolness of Winston from Ghostbusters was good, and I totally missed that Winston has the “Judgment Day” speech in the film and Lucas gets to call the climax of the season Judgment Day.

I like that Lucas is constantly the most grounded and practical of the kids (like Winston is among the Ghostbusters, now that I think about it); McLaughlin even said that if Lucas had found Dart instead of Dustin, there wouldn’t have been a second episode with the lizard in it. That characteristic plays well off of what the rest of the kids bring to the group, particularly Dustin, and McLaughlin performed it excellently, never coming off as a jerk, even when he was trying to be the voice of reason. One thing I would’ve liked to see more of from Lucas, however, is a reaction to Billy’s racism. It felt like he understood why Max wouldn’t let her brother see him (even if he didn’t vocalize it) and it was terrifying when Billy attacked him in the season finale, but I wanted them to dig into it more. Watching Lucas process and deal with any of the “there’s a certain kind of people you don’t hang around” talk from Billy would’ve added a great deal to his outlook and character. The Sinclairs seem to be one of the few African-American families in town, so is this relatively normal for him, or is having it thrown in his face something new? If he and Max had a real, out-in-the-open conversation about her brother, how would that have gone? He doesn’t seem to have any misgivings about pursing an interracial relationship—he might be too young (and too wrapped up in his crush on Max) to consider the ramifications yet—but would his family? Would the rest of the town? This is an area where the Duffer Brothers could absolutely have taken a page from Stephen King and drawn real-world horrors—particularly in a small, Midwestern town—as parallels to the rot of the Upside Down. The Ghostbusters costume argument brought up the assumption that Lucas was “supposed” to be Winston (and Mike couldn’t) because he’s Black and briefly touched on the issue of race, but the kids sidestepped it for the most part. Billy’s villainy would’ve resonated more if Lucas had scenes dealing with what he represented, and even moreso if it turned out Billy hadn’t just brought racism to Hawkins, but it had always been there.

Will Byers Some reviews have said Will’s plot felt too similar to his predicament last year—communicating through lights/crayons, being captured by the monster, etc.—but I liked the variations on the theme this year. The map of corruption in the town was both a cool visual aspect and a great expression of Will’s own infection, as the Mind Flayer had also wormed its smoky tendrils into his body. I loved that his connection to the Mind Flayer was a double-edged sword that rarely actually helped the heroes, unlike his Christmas lights last year. I totally expected Will to be a conscious solider against the Upside Down this year—particularly with Eleven absent from much of the action—so twisting it to make him the spy for the monsters and leading several soldiers to their deaths was brilliant! This was an especially cool reversal of how honest we know Will to be, even to the point of telling Mike the truth about what he rolled against the Demogorgon in the first episode when he didn’t have to. Making Will the Mind Flayer’s eyes also created a cool obstacle for the heroes: they had no safe haven unless he didn’t know where he was. No conversation about Will this year would be complete without pointing out that Schnapp is a fantastic actor: he did an excellent job of playing his attempts to be a normal kid with his friends, the loneliness of his post-Upside Down captivity, the pure terror/sadness of what was happening to him, the Mind Flayer’s pawn, and even the villain. His reaction to the soldiers burning the vines in the tunnels, the interrogation scene in the shed where he’d first disappeared (nice callback!), and his exorcism scene were particular standout moments for Schnapp (and all the actors involved). Mike, Jonathan, and Joyce sharing their memories with Will to bring him back to the surface was a powerful, incredible sequence! I’m glad the Duffers didn’t go with their initial idea of making Will slip into “evil Will” flashes where the Mind Flayer took over his body—and even killed Bob!—as that would’ve taken his possession a little too far.

All that said, the girl asking Will to dance at the Snow Ball by calling him “Zombie Boy” didn’t work for me, particularly as we were told he was very sensitive about that term. It would’ve helped if they’d established that Will was interested in any of the girls before having one ask him to dance just so he could be partnered up. The first season hinted that he might be gay—Joyce evaded Hopper’s question about whether bullies’ taunts about him being homosexual had any basis in fact—and making Will deal with that bigotry next year would be another way to bring real-life horror into Hawkins, especially in the mid-80s. Will being stunned at the girl’s proposition was cute—and it was probably just a throwaway moment to get Mike alone for Eleven’s entrance—but they could’ve had Will just be content with the normalcy of a dance instead (which would’ve contrasted Dustin’s lap around the gym nicely). Who Will is in normal life when he’s not being directly tormented by demons is definitely something I hope we get next year, since we haven’t gotten to see much of him being himself. I’m also eager to see what he brings to monster-hunting without the benefit of a connection to the Upside Down. Maybe if someone else is the Upside Down’s target, Will can step up as the person with experience and guidance in surviving it. It’ll be interesting to see how Will grows after having survived such an intense connection to the Mind Flayer as well, and how that shapes his outlook on the real world. Maybe surviving that horror could actually help him cope with any anti-gay hatred he faces, if the Duffers choose to reintroduce and expand on that aspect.

Max Hargrove Max was a great addition and I hope she returns next season! Sadie Sink held her own with the rest of the cast, bringing an equally natural feel to her character and a fresh attitude to the gang. It’s good to have more women in the cast and it’s neat that she, not one of the guys, is traditionally the “coolest” of the kids. I liked the guys being bewildered at the “wonder” of a girl liking video games and skateboarding (even if they forgot Nancy was willing to dress up as an elf with them just five years earlier), but I was also glad Max never acknowledged any strangeness about her liking genre stuff: of course girls have always liked it too! Max being genre savvy was a cool way to incorporate a few criticisms about certain nostalgia aspects of the first season when Lucas told her the truth about Eleven and the Upside Down. However, I hope that’s where the meta commentary ends. A little bit goes a long way for me, so Max writing Lucas’ tale off as a derivative story worked as an in-joke while also making sense given the context of what she’d seen, but I don’t think I need any further commentary from the fans voiced on the show. Max’s arc this year mainly focused on wanting to be accepted as part of the party and it worked well without needing to make her the audience’s eyes too much: the show didn’t assume you hadn’t watched the first season (we didn’t even hear Lucas tell her the truth). At the same time, she was thankfully never presented as an annoying girl trying to worm her way into their secret club. We can all relate to feeling like we don’t belong and wanting to fit in, so it felt original that Max had to struggle even to be accepted by the “nerds” of the school. These aren’t bad kids—and of course there are extenuating circumstances with the government threat—but it was a nice change of pace from the popular kids being the ones to exclude everyone. That she’s a girl trying to hang out with a bunch of guys also felt like a timely reference to the fact that she is a girl who likes nerdy things and there’s a lot of absurd pushback (to put it lightly) facing vocal female fans nowadays. Once she was in with the party, I loved that Max was totally in; these are her friends and it was clear she’d do anything to help them.

Next year I hope Max and Eleven bond as friends. Their spat this year shouldn’t have lasted to the end of the season as it was and I hope Eleven comes around between this season and next. I also hope Max finds a family among the party, particularly as she has it much tougher than anyone else in terms of her home life; maybe coping with and surviving that abuse is something that can bond her and Jane. The clear abuse she’s suffered at Billy’s “overprotective” hands was scary and portrayed well without being too graphic. I loved that she stood up to her brother to save Steve and Lucas in the end, and that Billy’s a little afraid of her now. I’m interested to see how their relationship develops because they’re good together (though the story told on Beyond Stranger Things about the origin of their kiss—that it wasn’t in the script until Ross Duffer realized the idea of a kiss freaked Sadie Sink out and its addition led to her having even more anxiety about it (and McLaughlin felt weird about it too)—is troubling, so I hope there was more conversation about the kiss’ addition than we heard and that this is the last time something like that ever happens). If she and Lucas are still together by the time Season 3 starts—and hopefully they are; they have great chemistry—I’d like to see how she deals with a small town’s prejudices about interracial dating as well. That prejudice could also be an obstacle unique to the two of them that the Duffers could play up. Max and Erica seems like it’d be an amazing pairing as well, so hopefully we get to see them interact! We got a lot of older brother/younger brother interactions over the past two years, so getting to see Nancy taking on an older sister role with both Eleven and Max (and Erica; why not?) would be great too.

Eight/Kali Prasad Eight (Linnea Berthelsen) and her crew of misfits and castoffs (Kai Greene, James Landry Herbert, Anna Jacoby-Heron, and Gabrielle Maiden) had an 80s X-men/New Mutants vibe that I liked a lot, particularly once Eight took on the Professor X role and trained Eleven. I thought their sisterly relationship was well-written and acted, and I liked that Eight was such a contrast not only to the rest of Eleven’s found family, but to everything she knew from the lab and Hawkins. Eight’s quest to kill all the former employees of the Hawkins facility, regardless of the effects on their families, has been criticized by some as one-note, but I think it makes her a great parallel to Eleven. I loved that Kali is the person Eleven could’ve become had she not met her friends or spent so much time with Hopper. I really liked her point about allowing Eleven not to take revenge on the people who hurt her, but warning Jane never to take her choice away. I feel like that’s the nuance other reviews are asking for. Eight is driven to violence by revenge, but she does care about her crew, did care about Eleven, and respected her enough to allow her “sister” to make her own choices. It’s only when Eleven stops her from carrying out her own wishes that they have a problem from Eight’s point of view.

The degree to which Eight has been changed by meeting Eleven was left as an open-ended question in Season 2, so seeing how she reflects on Eleven choosing not to kill will be very interesting. Were her eyes opened by Jane’s empathy epiphany, or will she see Eleven as a weak victim who can’t do what’s necessary to prevent others from being hurt? There could be no redemption for the lab workers in Kali’s eyes, but I wonder if we’re being set up for a redemption arc for her. I fully expect her to track Eleven down next year, causing problems for Jane’s new lease on life in Hawkins. Just as Eleven is allowed to reenter society around Halloween 1985, Eight finally finds her and upends her peaceful life? Sounds about right. I also wonder if Kali will locate the other test subjects and continue building the X-men vibe by recruiting them to her cause. If a portion of Season 3 were Kali and her Brotherhood coming to town and the heroes there having to deal with them instead of the Upside Down, I’d be all for it. I’m glad Eight has an entirely different set of powers and I wonder what abilities the others might have (given the Stephen King inspiration, one is totally a pyrokinetic). On the other hand, as much as I’d like to meet those other kids, I feel like it would shift the show too far away from the established cast to bring on a nearly equal number of new characters…unless Netflix wants to make the seasons longer from here on out, of course. I’d have no problem with that! Perhaps a standalone miniseries about her recruiting them could work between seasons as well. Kali’s illusion-casting was cool, especially the electric butterfly and bringing Brenner (Matthew Modine) “back” to manipulate Eleven. I wonder how that could be used to illuminate the other characters’ inner thoughts and fears if it were used against them.

Steve Harrington I loved that the hints of the good guy Steve is from Season 1 were vindicated here; he was only the jock asshole on the surface/to impress his friends last year and he does have a heart…and really does love Nancy. I thought it was a nice twist that he was genuinely hurt not because she didn’t want to party and act like teenagers with him (and even that suggestion was his attempt to do whatever he could to make her feel better), but because she said their love was bullshit. I also like that despite his clear sadness, he put Nancy and her needs first by driving away from the Snow Ball at the end of the season (unless he’s just acting like he doesn’t care…I hope not, though). Nancy being supportive of Steve taking care of the kids along with his lack of drama about her and Jonathan makes me think that they can develop a friendship next season and I hope that’s the case. I definitely agree with Keery that there’s no need for a physical confrontation between Jonathan and Steve over Nancy; if anything, the three of them just need to discuss where they all are. I love that this is a second love triangle that didn’t explode into angst or fighting, but mature acceptance.

I knew Steve was a good guy despite his mistakes back in Season 1, but I had no idea he’d be such a surprisingly great scene partner for the kids, especially Dustin! Keery seemed to have a blast with the kids and played the big brother role perfectly. His and Dustin’s brotherly relationship developed excellently—even if it started because Steve just happened to show up at the Wheelers’ when Dustin was there and was totally a last resort—and I hope it continues into the coming years. Hopefully even though Dustin failed to be Steve Harrington at the dance, Steve will be there to console him and help him out in the future (even if not all his advice is spot-on). As I’ve seen elsewhere, Steve having no qualms or embarrassment about being a babysitter was cool of him and totally unexpected. There wasn’t even a second thought to him protecting the kids, like when he got Max out of the way to fend off the Demodog while they were trapped in the old bus. Waking up after being beaten by Billy and thinking Mike was Nancy was a totally surprising—and hilarious—moment. I hope there are many more humorous moments like that as we get to see him interact with the kids more. It was also neat to see Steve totally over his position as “king of the school,” much less concerned with being cool than the guy who bent to his friends’ peer pressure was. I wonder if that maturity will take him to college next season, or if he’ll hang around town. I hope it’s the former; he could always just come home from school when things start happening again. Being away and coming back home will provoke more change in him than sticking around town treading water, so I hope that’s what they do with him. It’d definitely be good to see what he wants out of life too.

Nancy Wheeler Nancy’s one of my favorite characters and while I liked her hunting human monsters this time—and outsmarting the government by intentionally getting herself and Jonathan captured so they could get a confession on tape—I wish we’d seen more of her this year. Though Nancy getting to shut down the government project for Barb was cool, I do wonder if her and Jonathan’s quest was a little undercut both by saying all the agents who were around when Barb died and Will disappeared are gone (if that’s true) and then most of the current staff getting killed by Demodogs. It’s true the government got a public black eye and the project has been permanently shut down through Nancy and Jonathan’s efforts (and Eleven shutting the gate), though. I wouldn’t mind a Season 3 that had no military component and just had those in the know in Hawkins against the Mind Flayer as it tries to return. Maybe it would’ve been better to shut down the lab at midseason to free up Nancy and Jonathan for more interaction with the growing Upside Down threat. Specifically, I wish she’d been around to help Steve and the kids hunt Demodogs; Nancy would’ve been useful in the junkyard, the tunnels, or as backup for Eleven and Hopper (though I get the narrative and emotional reasons you’d sequester those two one final time). That said, Dyer was great with what she got, be it romantic comedy with Jonathan, her turmoil over what Barb’s parents (Cynthia Barrett, Aaron Munoz) had been put through for a year, or helping to drive the infection out of Will at the end. Nancy thinking she and Steve were at fault for Barb’s death was a great, tragic bit of self-inflicted guilt, no matter how wrong she was: it was Barb choosing to wait around after Nancy told her to go home that got her killed, not Nancy and Steve sleeping together. I loved that Nancy accepted the rifle from Hopper when they were being swarmed by Demodogs, she was the one who used a hot poker on Will, and that Jonathan turned away from his hurting brother to find comfort in her arms, rather than the other way around. The show is very good about crafting strong female characters and I loved that they subverted gender norms by making Nancy and Joyce the ones willing to do whatever it took to save Will, while Jonathan couldn’t.

Dancing with Dustin and giving him a pep talk at the Snow Ball was a sweet, perfect moment. What a great nod to Dustin’s crush on her in Season 1, back when he offered her their last slice of pizza and argued that she “used to be cool” (even if his then-current assessment had been that “something was wrong” with her). I like that she also tried to get Jonathan to socialize more, snagging him an invite to the Halloween party and even suggesting he might meet someone there. I wish we’d seen more moments of friendship between the two of them to further develop their romantic bond, but the fact that they’d grown apart over the past year worked too. I’ve certainly had life get in the way of keeping in touch with friends, so that felt realistic (particularly in an era without social media). The Snow Ball left things a little unresolved as to whether Nancy and Jonathan were together-together, and I’m game whether the show wants to explore that relationship or not. Perhaps Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve need to find themselves separately a bit more before any pairing can healthily take off. I’m very interested to see where Nancy goes now that Barb has justice and she can finally move on. What are her interests and goals in life? We know she doesn’t want to repeat her mother’s decision to settle for a perfect nuclear family, so what does she want? The similarity between Murray (Brett Gelman) and Nancy—their need to “pull back curtains”—would be an interesting direction to explore in the future. I don’t want her to go full-on conspiracy theorist like he is, but perhaps she’ll become a reporter. Whatever direction she takes, I’m excited to see her journey towards becoming more self-aware continue.

Jonathan Byers It felt like Jonathan got the least to do out of anyone—his incorporation into Nancy’s quest to help Barb’s parents felt more tangential since Will did come back, for example—though I did get the impression that he’s grown a lot since Season 1. I think this year’s Jonathan is in a much better place to be in a relationship, unlike last year when ending up with Nancy would’ve felt like the clichéd loner “good guy” (with a stalker streak that was never a good look) “deserved” to get the girl at the end of the horror movie just by virtue of not being a jerk. This season, he seemed more settled in his home life and comfortable with how things had been going; Jonathan generally felt healthier this year, since he didn’t have to be the guy looking after his family to as great a degree. Heaton was good at showing us lighter shades of Jonathan like that. Jonathan and Nancy’s earlier monster hunting connection and mutual impulse to watch each other’s backs as they got justice worked to play up their connection and stir the tension between them. While I still would’ve liked more development in their romantic relationship, the moment where he and Nancy compared scars and talked about their friendship vanishing was a fun bit of reconnection. I also liked that at every turn, Jonathan was right there with Nancy insisting they weren’t together and looking for ways not to share a bed with her; it would’ve been cheaper if the hotel only had a single room available or for him not to offer to sleep on Murray’s couch. I liked the Temple of Doom homage with Nancy and Jonathan (unsuccessfully) fighting the urge to sleep together; that was fun! I’ve seen this pointed out elsewhere, but if they are together at the end of the season, then I wonder if their relationship really can survive normalcy and times when the world isn’t ending. Whether they can or not, that would be something interesting to explore.

While I liked Jonathan’s reaction to Will’s predicament once he got back into town and his attempts to help his brother were great, I would’ve liked to see him react more to not being there for Will and Joyce. That was such a drive for him in Season 1 that removing him from the equation could’ve yielded a bigger reaction once he realized what he’d been missing. That said, I wonder if the fact that everyone survived without him—and were more capable of doing what needed to be done than he was—will lead him down a path where he doesn’t feel as needed for his family’s survival anymore. We started to see this in Season 2, when he trusted Will to take care of himself while trick-or-treating and Jonathan let himself go to a party. Where will Jonathan go if he doesn’t feel like he has to be the one to care for his whole family? I don’t want him to feel guilty (and especially not emasculated) that he couldn’t face Will’s pain or turn up the heat, but I’d like to see what he wants to do with a clean slate and the ability to move forward, trusting Joyce to handle things and Will to fend for himself.

Billy Hargrove Billy was the final form of every 80s movie bully (and everything Steve seemed to be on the surface last year) and while Dacre Montgomery did a great job making him a constant predatory threat, there didn’t seem to be much complexity to him in the writing. Just like Henry Bowers in IT, Billy made for an intimidating human villain, but while one scene showing us a glimpse of the parental abuse that drove him to be so psychotic is appreciated, it’s too little too late. In a movie that’s more forgivable, but with nine hours to tell the story it doesn’t quite fly. I’m also glad the Duffers don’t think Billy’s abuse at the hands of his father excuses his actions, but only shows where he learned that hate. I liked Billy crying and then suppressing it after his dad left his room—Montgomery’s acting was very good in that scene—but none of this redeemed him for me and honestly, I don’t need to see him redeemed. I also don't think his reaction to being drugged and threatened by Max is equivalent to Jonathan knocking sense into Steve in Season 1. Steve realized what he did to Nancy was wrong and took steps to change right away. He even showed up at the Byers house at the end of the season to apologize to Jonathan, not to find Nancy to win her back. Billy’s violence-induced "respect" for Max is not at all the same thing as the violent moment that made Steve reevaluate his life.

Making Billy a racist on top of everything else would’ve worked better if they’d given Lucas a moment to reflect on why he couldn’t hang out with Max, if Max had a realization about why Billy acted the way he did, or if anyone had confronted Billy about it, forcing him to try to justify himself (not that there’s justification for that). As it was, he was terrifying both whenever he’d threaten Max and when he came after Lucas, but it seemed like there could’ve been more explored with him and the racist angle felt like just one more horrible thing about him. It’s possible Billy’s anger also comes from repressing his own homosexuality, given his reaction to what his father called him and the vibe he gave off when confronting Steve at the end of the season. If Billy is gay, then 80s-era prejudices against both he and his step-sister’s burgeoning interracial relationship could work to bring them closer together (if he can work through his anger issue and develop real respect for her; there’s no excuse for the way he acts). Dacre Montgomery doesn’t think Billy is racist or homophobic, but while he may not be playing either of those aspects and I could be misreading Billy—Montgomery definitely knows his character better than I do—the script left it too open-ended to dismiss as a possibility. I’m not sure his interpretation lines up with what we saw of him “protecting” Max either; if he were so concerned about her and who she hung out with, it wouldn’t have taken his father threatening him to get him to go hunt Max down. Whatever is driving Billy’s anger, we also should’ve seen a happy moment between Max and Billy to show us why her being a “constant” in his life was a good thing in his mind. I do agree with Montgomery that Billy’s insane amount of insecurity about being a man (and the man) is probably a large part of what’s feeding into his anger and lashing out; his early insults and attacks on Steve over no longer being the “king of the school” and getting dumped by Nancy definitely speak to that. As uncomfortable as the scene where he flirts with Mrs. Wheeler (Cara Buono) was, I liked the scene immediately after where Montgomery’s expression revealed it was all an act. That was the one bit of trope subversion his character got this year that reminded me of the undercurrents Steve got last year. Either way, I’m definitely interested to find out what “sinister” plans Montgomery and the Duffers have for Billy next year; how much worse can he get?

Barbara Holland I always thought Barb was fine; neither dull nor the perfect, slighted best friend some parts of the internet made her out to be, but analysis like this (and check out great analysis of all the characters here and here) and a rewatch of Season 1 left me seeing her as a judgey, jealous friend who couldn’t handle Nancy starting to pull away. She may have had good intentions in being protective of Nancy, but when it came time to face Nancy’s decisions, she couldn’t deal with what Lucas and Dustin overcame with Mike and Eleven (and because of her death, she never got the chance to learn from and grow out of her mistakes like everyone else did). That said, it did bother me that no one in town cared she’d gone missing except Nancy and her parents, so tying up that loose end here felt appropriate. It was sad her parents spent a year thinking she’d just run away or something, and moreso that they were spending all their money—even having to sell the house—in the search. I was satisfied with the justice Barb got here.

Joyce Byers Winona Ryder was great once again and I’m glad her efforts to save Will were listened to this year. There was a definite sense that she had more control and influence over things and, as I’ve seen pointed out elsewhere, it was great to see her take charge of getting answers about Will’s health rather than having to force Hopper to investigate or needing to justify her methods (like when she bought so many boxes of Christmas lights). Like Nancy, I’m glad Joyce was the one willing and able to do anything to save Will from the Mind Flayer’s influence, even though it hurt him. It was also cool that Ryder got to explore a healthier Joyce this year; she was understandably pushed to the limits of her sanity last year, so seeing her as a veteran of the Upside Down and its attacks on her family was a great bit of development. Moments like her concern for Will when dropping him off at the arcade felt relatable as well; even if he hadn’t been abducted by monsters from another dimension, her concern for his medical condition felt like something any mother would express (and his exasperated desire for her to see him as a capable person rather than a kid needing protection was spot-on too). The one area that felt a little lacking with Joyce’s portrayal this year was that she didn’t seem to even notice Jonathan was gone. Of course she was consumed with worry for Will, but an acknowledgment that Jonathan was missing would’ve been nice and some reaction to what he’d done with Nancy would’ve been better, since taking on the government could’ve had direct and deadly results for their whole family.

I liked her relationship with Bob; it brought out a new, almost carefree side to Joyce that we hadn’t seen in her interactions with Hopper, which are almost always fraught with tension over supernatural goings-on. At least at first, it felt like her relationship with Bob was a window into who she possibly used to be. David Harbour’s assessment that Joyce had a relationship with Bob because he seemed to be the safe, dorky father figure is probably accurate, but I would’ve liked to hear what Ryder’s thoughts on it were. The Duffers saying she would’ve left town with Bob had he lived gave his death a bigger tragedy, but I feel like she has a stronger connection to Hopper so I’m more invested in seeing where that goes. I’d also like to see Joyce interact with the other parents more; does she have friends anymore? It would help if she could talk to them about what happened, so perhaps the government facility shutting down will give her at least some ability to discuss a watered-down version of what she’s been going through. It’d also be cool to see what Joyce’s dreams are and what she hoped her life would turn out like. That could bond her with not only the younger kids in the face of so much danger, but the teens as they’re about to go off to college and forge lives for themselves. An attempt to build her life beyond her job at the store and as Will and Jonathan’s mom would also definitely be welcome.

Jim Hopper The change in Hopper from the start of Season 1 to the beginning of 2 (to say nothing of his journey through the rest of the season) was immense, going from a man barely holding it together and caught up in the memories of his dead daughter to a far healthier man building a life for his new surrogate child. Hopper and Eleven’s familial connection was an excellent aspect of Season 2 and one I never thought I’d love so much. Like Joyce being concerned about Will even during a benign trip to the arcade, Hopper and Eleven shared a lot of realistic parent/child moments that grounded the supernatural strangeness of their lives. Glimpses of their happier moments were excellent and, as Harbour pointed out on Beyond Stranger Things, very “dad” things like Hopper trying to guilt Eleven into coming out of her room to share overdue Halloween candy were played perfectly. Life lessons like the fact that even well-meaning parents can let their kids down worked very well too. Eleven’s psychic tantrum felt like a real argument between a parent and a child—even if amped up by her powers—and the push and pull between what was best for her development and what was safest for her created an excellent tension for Hopper to deal with; Harbour played it perfectly. His apology to an empty cabin was excellent and their reconciliation in the truck on the way to the facility was outstanding too. They need each other to build a new family out of their fractured lives and I can’t wait to see how that develops (particularly now that she’ll be able to leave the cabin safely within a year); I was very happy to see that she’s now legally his daughter. I absolutely loved his “You did so good, kid,” moment after she closed the gate and Hopper carrying her out of the gate room was a brilliant connection to Brenner carrying her out of the tank after her early tests with the Upside Down (that was a callback I completely missed!).

I’m glad Hopper didn’t go full-on nefarious Men in Black like the end of last season implied, instead just helping to cover up things in town without any qualms about setting the government straight the moment he realized they weren’t living up to their side of the “keep the Upside Down sealed” bargain. I like that his maybe-relationship with Joyce is seemingly back on track by the end of this year and I wonder if they’ll actually get together next season (or between seasons). If they were to get married, Eleven and Will as step-siblings would work really well given their shared traumas with the Upside Down. Hopper being absolutely done with the kids’ D&D allusions was perfect, so putting as many kids around him as possible would be hilarious! Has Joyce been taking Mike and Will up to have playdates with Eleven? Do all the kids regularly trek up to Hopper’s cabin to hang out with Eleven on weekends and play D&D? Did someone get an NES? I would love it if Hopper and Joyce actually enjoyed playing it just as much as the kids will (I remember my parents playing my Sega Genesis X-men game by themselves often, so the adults being into a video game or two isn’t outside the bounds of reality). I’d also be interested to see if sheriff is the end of Hopper’s career path or if he wants more out of his work. Could he be recruited into further government projects into the supernatural, or will he do something smaller, like running for Mayor of Hawkins? I hope the spores in the tunnels didn’t do anything to him, but I can’t see the Duffers letting that go so easily, especially since he’ll be directly in Eleven’s (and possibly Will’s) orbit. Perhaps that experience with the supernatural will be a way to bond him and Eleven even closer and give her a chance to directly rescue him.

Bob Newby His name literally being “newbie” may have been on the nose, but I liked Bob and the distinct flavor he brought to the character mix. His innocence and sense of discovery created fun clashes with the other characters’ temperaments, like when he was decoding Will’s map. He almost felt like a glimpse into what any of the kids could’ve become had they not had these run-ins with the supernatural. His tech and puzzle-solving knowledge were fresh skills some shows would’ve just randomly given to Mike or the other kids simply because they’re nerds—as if that means they know everything about all nerdy things—so I was glad the Duffers gave them to a new character. Those skills made him invaluable and allowed for a very tense escape from the government facility. I felt he truly cared about Joyce and her boys, which was refreshing to see, and he bonded well with Will. I liked the tragedy that his well-meaning advice about facing your fears was the absolute worst thing he could’ve told Will, and that Will trusted him enough to listen. Bob’s suggestion to move the family to Maine was a cool, sly Stephen King reference; they probably wouldn’t be any safer there! I was sorry he died, but I wish they hadn’t shot it with such a tell; instead of Bob and Joyce having a moment of relief that he’d escaped, having Bob continue running for his life and getting snagged by the Demodogs anyway would’ve been a bigger shock.

Allies I was shocked Dr. Owens turned out to not only not be morally gray or outright evil, but genuinely cared about Will, Eleven, and the others. That was a great change of pace from the stock government scientist and a clever subversion of Reiser’s character in Aliens. I believe he truly did believe doing whatever was necessary to stop the spread of the Upside Down was the best course of action, but once it came to harming kids, he was done. I respected that. I expected him to die, so his survival was a surprise and I hope he continues to be an ally in Season 3 and beyond. The government trying to burn away the infectious Upside Down infestation was a great way to make them problematic in that they were still running tests, while proving they weren’t completely oblivious to how dangerous it was (even if they had no idea how far it had spread). That was a cool split between their deal with Hopper and their own interests. I’d like to see what the larger government wants with the Upside Down testing, though. Are they thinking it could be used as a way to “teleport” behind enemy lines? If an army battalion (or just one operative with a nuclear weapon) entered the Upside Down in Hawkins and punched their way out in Moscow, for example, that would be a powerful military advantage that could clinch the Cold War for the US. Eleven and Eight’s powers both seem to be in the same vein as Cold War psychic experiments (and it all started as part of Project MKUltra), so elaboration on specific goals there would be cool too. Maybe some of the test subjects didn’t escape and are government-backed child soldiers now. If Jane being number eleven means she’s the latest and youngest, there’s no telling how old the earlier subjects are now.

It’s always good to see Mr. Clarke (Randy Havens), the kids’ science teacher. He didn’t have as big a role to play as the kids’ source of science this year, but all his scenes were great. I love that he’s so into science and always seizes the opportunity to pass on that love and curiosity to the kids. I’m not sure if I want him to learn about the Upside Down or not, because the kids’ flimsy excuses are entertaining. He’d have his mind blown by what they’ve seen, however, and that could be fun in and of itself. I also wonder just how much the kids are overlooking due to not having a background in science that could be useful to fighting the Upside Down. Officers Powell (Rob Morgan) and Callahan (John Reynolds) gave welcome returns as possibly the least effective cops (Callahan far moreso than Powell) on TV. I love how small-town they are in their all-too human reactions to things, even if they’re rarely helpful as law enforcement. As fun as they are, I wonder if there’s a way to preserve that quality while subverting the trope of the bumbling detectives. Ted Wheeler is still totally useless, but while I can almost see why Karen would be attracted to Billy after knowing him on his best behavior for two minutes, I wish we’d gotten more depth to her than a joke about bored housewives. Both of her children were gone from the house for days and she barely seemed to care (even if they did give flimsy sleepover excuses). I’d like to see her build a friendship with Joyce instead of continuing to just be an oblivious parent; there were hints that there was more to her in Season 1 and I hope there’s a return to that in Season 3. Digging into the Karen she wanted to be instead of the one who chose the safe life could be a revelation to Nancy—and Nancy venturing into a role in a male-dominated field like investigative reporter a boon to Karen—and I’d love to dig deeper into those dynamics.

Conspiracy theorist Murray Bauman was a nice nod to the fact that other people are taking note of the strange things going on in Hawkins. I liked his rundown of the myth Eleven accidentally created about herself and his complete misreading of Hopper’s dismissal as naiveté, not being in on the conspiracy. Other shows might have had him be so keyed into the mysteries that he’d suspect Hopper’s smokescreen right away, so his total obliviousness in that area felt fresh. His stunned reaction to what was really happening—much bigger than anything he’d imagined—was great too. His plan to water down the truth about the lab was cool as well; a clever way of holding off on letting everyone know about the Upside Down while still being rooted in human behavior. It didn’t feel like the plot was forcing them to keep their mouths shut about monsters just because doing so would change the whole show’s status quo, but like there was a real reason to. Explaining it like this was also easier to swallow than revealing the truth and then having people go back to disbelieving once the government said it was a lie, in an odd way. Even with the explanation that Murray has an obsessive need to expose secrets and illuminate the truth, his investment in the love lives of two teens he’d just met was a little unnerving. He didn’t come off as creepy, I guess, but just weird. I don’t need to see him return—with the government shutting down the facility, he’s served his purpose—but becoming something of a journalistic mentor for Nancy, if they go that route with her, could be cool.

I wasn’t too enamored with the members of Kali’s crew. They were fine foils for Eleven’s friends and definitely brought a distinct flavor to the show, but nothing Kali couldn’t bring by herself. With so little screentime to split among so many new characters, they didn’t feel as fully-formed as they could’ve been. I might’ve cut a few of them or combined their traits into fewer characters. Still, it’s good that they were so diverse; that was a realistic contrast to life in Hawkins. I definitely appreciate that there was an even gender split in the crew too. Perhaps given more time with these characters, I’d like them better.

Enemies I really, really hope Brenner isn’t still alive. He doesn’t need to be. Now that Eleven has discovered and come to terms with as much of her past as possible, bringing him back would feel like a step backwards. Through her interactions with Eight—who acted the way Brenner wanted his subjects to, even if she aimed herself at him instead of the government’s enemies—and Hopper, it feels like Jane’s already defeated the ghost of Brenner’s influence and his physical return wouldn’t be much of a fight for her soul. Now, if Eight shows up in Hawkins and uses an illusion of him to manipulate/terrorize Eleven, that could work. Then again, Millie Bobby Brown’s reading of Eleven’s relationship with her Papa as a warm one—because he was the first person to hold her and she felt there was care there, despite the abuse he inflicted on her and her mother—adds so many layers to the conflict that I hadn’t considered before. Her assertion that she wouldn’t channel her anger or fight as much without Brenner having been in her life is also a fascinating look at Eleven’s survival skills and her ability to make a positive out of the abuse she suffered. I’d like to see Eleven deal with that, but I wouldn’t want them to take her will to fight out of her hands or give him too much credit; I believe she’d be a fighter with or without Brenner in her life, since her mother certainly was in the end and would’ve taught Jane that instinct had she been there to raise her. Brown’s interpretations of their relationship almost make me hope he is alive. Almost.

The Mind Flayer was an imposing step up from the Demogorgon (just for fun, check out this incredible cosplay!) and the Demodogs were cool underlings. What’s going to happen with the Demodog Dustin and Steve put in the Byers’ fridge? It seemed dead, but they do like the cold… At any rate, I love the mythology of a being that’s so ancient even it doesn’t know where it came from, like Dustin theorizes the Mind Flayer is. The show is digging into Lovecraftian themes and I love it! Of course, if they’re going full-Lovecraft, it may also mean the Mind Flayer isn't necessarily evil, just that it’s a force of nature that wants to survive. That’s more interesting. Dustin assumes it wants to control everything because that’s what the D&D character wants, but nothing says he has to be right. Or maybe controlling everything is how it survives, so it needs to continue corrupting everything to perpetuate its existence. If all the beings it’s controlling die, how can this psychic monstrosity continue to inhabit any world?

I hope the Mind Flayer is defeated in Season 3, opening up 4 and 5 for new, even more terrifying threats. I feel like the next step beyond infiltrating the town is burrowing into the people (particularly as we know psychic interaction is possible through Eleven’s watery middle-ground void; that’s where she first met the Demogorgon), which could be cool. Though again, I don’t want the Upside Down to be the source of evil people in Hawkins. Perhaps the Mind Flayer already has a foothold here through the smoky portion of itself that was possessing Will. I wonder where it fled to… If Upside Down beings start taking over Hawkins citizens—or even just altering their perceptions to harm our heroes—that could be the perfect time to bring back the similarly-powered Eight.

 Though I would’ve liked to see more from Mike, Nancy, and Jonathan this year, I thought the writers did a great job of fleshing out the rest of the cast and expanding the story from where they left it in Season 1. They didn’t lock themselves into cliffhangers or open-ended scenes in the season finale this time, so they can do pretty much anything they want. I’m definitely optimistic about where things could go in Season 3 and beyond! We need to see these characters in their status quo so we can see how it changes when the supernatural elements return, so I do hope we get a little more of their normal lives next time; maybe a more expanded season would help. What are the characters’ lives and relationships going to look like in a year? What have the Mind Flayer and the other denizens of the Upside Down been planning? It feels like the stage has been set for a huge showdown and I can’t wait!