#for me is because my mom was ashamed of it and so she purposefully put in the wrong information for me at first

[woodnrust]

*rocking in the corner of the room* i am comfortable in my identity people respect my identity i am wanted i fit in with others who share my identity i am not an outcast nor am i an anomaly

[quality-street-rat]

TW food stuff

I HATE it when people ask me what I want to eat, or where I want to eat, or if I’m hungry. I know it’s a human thing to want to feed each other and an American thing to want to give people large portions. 

But I can’t, I can’t do this. I was always fucking shamed for eating what I wanted to, I was fat-shamed for fifteen years by my little brother, and he still does it whenever I see him. I was always told that food was a privilege not a right, I was told that I needed permission to eat, I was told that taking snacks from the cupboards at home was stealing. 

My mom always trained me to “eat right,” and now I feel guilty and ashamed if I eat things that aren’t a part of that plan. I’m always calculating percentages in my head, thinking “oh I can’t eat that, there’s not enough protein in it” or “does this have any calcium” or “I can’t eat that, mom said it’s not right for me” or “this specific food is an enemy.”

I hate it, I hate the way she made me think about food and I hate being asked what I want because I feel ashamed for asking for anything that isn’t specifically put in front of me and said “this is what you are allowed to eat.”  I feel ashamed for eating “too much” because I grew up so poor that my mom fed us with rice, beans, and plain oatmeal every day for several years. I purposefully take less than I want because other people need to eat too. 

And it doesn’t help that I feel ugly. I know I’m just midsized, I know fat people are beautiful and that skinny is not the default. But I was told I was pretty by people until I started gaining weight, until I turned 12 and stopped having the proportions of a child. And I don’t care about my hip dips, I don’t mind my belly fat or my extensive stretch marks or my giant thighs or even how it feels like the ground shakes when I stomp. That makes me feel powerful. Even though it does sometimes frustrate me that finding clothes in my size is so hard.

But I want to be pretty again. I’ve never been called that since, just “nice.” I look nice, I did a nice job, my clothes look nice, that’s nice of me, I have a nice vibe, it’s just been a parade of nice, nice, nice, nice, nice. I know it’s shallow and it’s selfish, but I want to be a pretty boy, I want to be a beautiful boy, I want to be anything but “nice.” And the only way people are gonna see me that way is if I lose a good 50+ pounds. Then I can be pretty again. I can get rid of these thighs bigger than Christmas hams, I can look in the mirror and see a sharper cheekbone, I can go places and not worry about whether they have my size or not, and people will look at me and say “oh, you’re so pretty!”

It’s selfish. And it’s stupid. But. I was trained to feel ashamed of wanting to eat. I was raised to overthink everything I put in my mouth. I was punished for eating when I was hungry. Because of these things I always feel like I don’t deserve to eat, like everything that goes in my mouth is a chore and must be earned. And a misguided attempt at chasing a shallow sense of worth decided by society’s fatphobic conditioning drives me to equate being smaller with being beautiful, and even though I fight that drive every day there’s a part of me that doesn’t understand why people stopped giving me the praise and love I got simply because I was little, crying out “I just want to be pretty again!”

I don’t know, man. I just want to enjoy food again. 

[lokilickedme]

Hulu and Do You

A Hammer Of The Gods Jake & Tate Shortfic, Part One

Part One - The Worst Kind of Man Rated M for language and adult themes - no sex yet (and I stress yet) 1703 words Takes place a year after the events of Hammer of The Gods

I’m posting this here for now because I’m not in the mood to accidentally start another longfic and AO3 tends to do that to me.  This will be two parts with the second coming later.  Written under the duress of a headache and not edited or proofread, so...whatever’s down there is what ya get.

I’ll reblog later tonight with my tag list attached.  Slide under the cut and lets go :)

“Geezus fuck kid, take that to your mom.”

Tate flinched, that same old kneejerk reaction to a raised male voice that she’d always had, a holdover from another time, another place, and most definitely another man.  But the man in the next room hadn’t really raised his voice, had he?  No, it was just that she was so damn used to it happening that the reflex had become too deeply ingrained to not be automatic.  It made her feel ashamed of herself for not being over it, just a tiny bit.

Jake didn’t raise his voice.  Not at her, not at her kids, not ever.  She’d never really actually heard him raise it, not in anger, not even when he was threatening a creatively bloody demise toward her long gone ex the day he’d popped his jaw damn well near clean off his face.

Jake wasn’t a yeller.

But he was definitely a curser, and her son had committed the unforgivable by blasting into the room he was working in to offer up an empty GoGurt tube in trade for a new one.

It wasn’t unforgivable in this house though, and it wasn’t unforgivable with this man.

Only The Ex.  Once upon a time.

Jake didn’t mind the kids coming into his study room; he wasn’t insanely nuts about them being around him, but he had no particular dislike of it either, other than when one or the other of them handed him something sticky.

Like the youngest just had.

She couldn’t blame him, to be honest.  GoGurt tubes in the hands of a four year old weren’t something she enjoyed dealing with herself, and Jake - well, Jake wasn’t the daddy type.  But he was a good man, albeit a filthy-mouthed one, and the words hadn’t even been the slightest bit irritated sounding.  Just more of an Ew, hell no.

So why the flinch?

She’d been trying to sort that in her head for the past year, and the only conclusion she’d reached was the uncertain possibility that she was simply afraid that one day Jake would become like The Ex.  Angry, irritated, controlling, condescending.  Disapproving.  Abusive.  She had nothing to base it on other than the fact that it had happened once and her luck, though vastly improved since the night she’d grabbed the kids and walked out with nothing but Jake’s tuition money in her pocket, couldn’t possibly hold.

Or could it?

Perhaps Pete had been right when he’d summed his friend up in a single sentence - He might look like he’d snap your neck for a half smoked cig but he’d just as soon pay you a nickel for it.  It hadn’t made sense at the time, but a year of dating the man had put a bit of clarity on it for her.  Jake was quick to anger in attitude only.  For the most part he was levelheaded, quiet, capable.  He had a low tolerance for idiocy and a deep appreciation for common sense, and what he put into the world by way of surliness he made up for in an intense intelligence and observant nature that dictated he simply deal with problems himself instead of waiting for anyone else to solve them.  And now, after all this time, she knew something not many other people knew.

The angry attitude wasn’t real.

Jake Harper was a fraud.

He didn’t hate the world...he was just uncomfortable in it.  Whether it was shyness or impatience or what his sisters referred to as “a near fatal case of attention deficit coupled with just too damn smart for this world”, she’d probably never figure out.

Not that it mattered.  She’d long since sorted how to work around it and keep that furrow-browed scowl from being used on her.

Jake was easily distractable...and he didn’t like to watch TV.

At all.

And that was where Tate’s secret weapon came into play.

He’d been studying a lot lately.  Way too much, but he had finals coming up.  She shouldn’t even be here, not really, not while he was working on such a time crunch with such a massive class load, but they hadn’t seen each other in a week aside from a quick lunch on Tuesday and a late night Facetime sexup the following evening.  It hadn’t been difficult talking him into letting her come over.

Or talking Pete into picking up the kids and taking them to the park so she and Jake could be alone for a couple of hours.  But he was running late and the kids were making a lot of noise, and now there was a drippy GoGurt tube incoming.

“Pete, come on.”

“Your wish is my command, Tatertot.”

“Geezus!!”

Her face went a bit warm, hearing that crude word pop out of her own mouth.  She’d been around Jake too much, he was rubbing off on her.

Rubbing off on her.

The alternate connotations of that phrase added more heat to her cheeks but thankfully Pete didn’t notice.  He was too busy grabbing her son up and tossing him haphazardly into the air, a horrifying habit she’d gotten used to.

“Sorry, runnin’ late.  Little girl, come on lets go!”  One huge paw came up to gingerly remove her son’s tiny fist from where it was twisted in his long unruly hair.  “Ew.  Is that GoGurt?  Better be blueberry, the cotton candy looks shit on me.”

Good old Pete.  If Jake hadn’t been the one to break the lock on her bedroom window - euphemism or no - things might have been a little different at this juncture of her life.  But Pete was a better friend than Jake would have been if the roles were shifted, and she was grateful for the big brash Viking’s helpful companionship.

Especially now.

“Take some frozen peas for the ducks.”

And then they were gone, and she was left standing in the doorway to Jake’s study room, looking at his broad back and swooning just a little bit over the contrast between his long dark hair and the light blue of his tee shirt as he hunched forward over his desk, deep in concentration that she knew didn’t come easy for him.

“You want to take a break?  Kids are gone, we could watch some TV.”

She knew he didn’t like TV, he didn’t have either the ability or the desire to put that much focus into something recreational after devoting so much effort into keeping his head on his studies.  He turned his head just slightly to the side, not looking at her, but acknowledging her presence.  “That show you like, they put the final season up.”

“Yeah?  Which one?”

He leaned back in his chair, stretching his back.  “That whack one about the preacher and the vampire.”

“You’re kidding?!  Want to start it?  I can call us in a pizza.”

He turned his chair to the left, coming around slowly to face her.  There was something dark and slightly wicked in the twist of his lips that shot a shiver through her.  “Do that.  I’m gonna finish this chapter and then I’m gonna Hulu and do you.”

“Ooh...and here I thought the whole Netflix and chill trend was going to just pass us by.  I mean...”  She took a step back, exiting the doorway, letting her hand stray purposefully toward the top button of her shirt.  “You’re always so busy with school and you have that personal vendetta against Netflix and all - “

“They sold Doctor Who to Amazon.  Fuck ‘em.”

“Well yeah, can’t disagree with you there.”

His eyes passed over her briefly, lingering for just a moment on her hand where her fingers toyed with the button.  It was enough.  Jake didn’t ogle, though there were times she wished he would as some sort of a courtesy warning shot before he made his intentions known.  There wasn’t a lot of preamble with him.  Straightforward and to the point, always.

Good old Viletongue.

She had no complaints.  Because she always knew where she stood with Jake.

But today...today she wasn’t planning on standing.

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

He was bored already, she could tell.  He was a scientist at heart, which she found humorous - Captain Curseword, the filthiest-mouthed man she’d ever met, the guy who could take a toddler’s boardbook with eleven words in it and turn it into a foul diatribe so intensely crass it made you step away from him for fear of the wrath of God accidentally hitting you while aiming at him - this man was possessed of an analytical mind so sharp and detail oriented that anything shy of a scientific documentary lost his attention within minutes.  His chosen profession suited his intellect, the chemistry aspect of pharmacology more than enough to give his mind something to work on all the time, but it ran so counter crossways to the physical side of him that sometimes she found herself wondering if he’d been accidentally housed inside the wrong body at birth.

In fact, sometimes it seemed like he wasn’t quite human at all.

She’d thought him an angel once.

And then she’d slept with him and realized he was, in fact, a god.

A god that was about to fall asleep less than ten minutes into Preacher episode one season four.  She looked over at him, next to her on the couch with his head back on the cushions, those stormy sky blue eyes half closed while his fingers tapped out an odd little rhythm on the thigh of her jeans.  Likely typing a chemical equation of some kind, his brain’s stubborn refusal to shut down long enough to rest seeping out through the steady drum of his fingertips.

He was a confusing thing sometimes.  He was both the best kind of man and the worst kind of man...and what she needed right now was the worst kind.

Taking that busily distracted hand from her thigh, she moved it up to her chest and laid it palm-down over her breast.  Jake didn’t respond, but his fingers clenched slightly; she looked over to find he’d closed his eyes entirely, but the tiniest twitch of a grin was gently turning up the corners of that filthy, filthy mouth.

[neat-crows]

Unsaid Emily Analyses

“First things first

We start the scene in reverse

All of the lines rehearsed

Disappeared from my mind”

Luke starts off by telling us the “scene” is reversed, therefore showing us it’s a moment he replayed in his mind many times, or even an argument he’s used to having. He then talks about how all the “lines rehearsed” disappeared from his mind, this clearly indicates that this argument or conversation has happened several times, and that he has certain responses already set up in defense that he can spit out in order to protect himself from hurtful words. Seeing as on this occasion those lines left and he ended up running away, we can assume all of those are meant to de-escalate conflict, such as agreements to whatever his mom is saying, or anything else to calm her down.

“When things got loud

One of us running out

I should've turned around

But I had too much pride”

These lyrics are pretty self explanatory, things got loud in terms of their argument, they started yelling, he ran out and left, and because of his “pride” he didn’t turn around, which he now regrets. It’s interesting that he blames all of this on his “pride” and puts himself down for the entire situation, when his mother being unsupportive is just as big of a factor. At the point when he was writing it, he had the ability to go back, and he clearly wanted to, and he wasn’t too prideful to admit it, he may be trying to hide his fear of rejection and guilt behind a guise of “pride”, when in reality he just fears his parents not wanting him back, so he’d rather reject them first.

“No time for goodbyes

Didn't get to apologize

Pieces of a clock that lies broken”

These lyrics have an interesting double meaning, in the context of the show (seeing as this was written before his death) he’s talking about how when he was running away he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye or apologize, the clock might mean a literal clock that was broken during the fight, or it could be a metaphor for losing time with each other that does irreparable damage. In the narrative of the show, these lyrics take a different meaning, “no time for goodbyes” and “didn’t get to apologize” can now be taken to mean that because he died far away from his parents with no warning, he never got the chance to say goodbye to the people he loves, and because of his untimely death, he never got to apologize or make up for it. The clock lyric, when read through this lens, could be talking about how he literally fractured through time, and now his parents are older and  can’t see him, and he’ll never be able to put that time back together.

“If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words "I love you" in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me”

Luke is wishing that he could go back to the night he ran away, whether before or after he died, this is his greatest regret. While he wrote the lyrics he thought that he would one day might be able to rectify the situation, although his insistance on taking them “back” in time may mean that he feels as if what was said and done was so harsh that it can no longer be fixed. As we saw earlier he didn’t turn around because of his pride, and his pride and guilt is partially what stopped him from going back sooner, and after his death, he wishes he could go back and fix the situation, because while he was alive he used his pride as an excuse to stay away from his family. Then we move on to the next line, where he tells us that if he could go back he’d replace “every empty space” with “the words ‘I love you’”. This shows that there was a lot of silence in his home between him and his mother, whether that be tense silence where they’re purposefully ignoring each other, or just a lack of communication and trust to share their thoughts and days with each other. It’s also interesting that he doesn’t want to replace cruel or mean words with “I love you”, just the silences, which may indicate that there were more silences than fights, and also that he doesn’t necessarily disagree with what he’s said. Luke clearly regrets not showing his parents how much he loves them, but perhaps he also believes that if his mom knew he loved her, she would have been more supportive, and that if he had just shown his appreciation a little more, then he and his friends wouldn’t have died. 

This Segway's into the next line, “then maybe time would not erase me”. Within the show the line probably means that he feels that if he had shown his love to his parents, then time wouldn’t have erased him from their lives and hearts, or perhaps if he proves himself and his love to them, he can avoid being erased from his family. This also may show a deeper fear due to the phrasing of the line, he doesn’t want time to erase him, he fears not being noteworthy, and being forgotten by time, because if he’s forgotten by time, then he can’t prove his parents wrong, and he can’t show that his dream was worth chasing. Ironically because of this fight, he did end up getting “erased” by time, as he died young and then Bobby/Trevor stole all his songs and didn’t give him credit. This may play a role in why he’s so adamant that he and the boys get their second chance, and their revenge on Trevor/Bobby for essentially erasing him and his work. But within the meta narrative, this line may explain even more. 

If any of the boys had had more supportive or engaged parents, they most likely wouldn't have died. If (in Luke's perspective) Luke had shown his love more, or his appreciation for his parents, then the phantoms would have been celebrating before the show with Emily and Mitch, rather than eating those tainted street dogs, so this line is showing Luke’s guilt because he feels that because of his pride and lack of communication he caused him and his friends to be erased by history and to those they love.

“If you could only know I'd never let you go

And the words I most regret are the ones I never meant to leave

Unsaid Emily”

Luke wishes that his parents knew he loved them, because then he would never had had to let them go, or run away, showing he feels a lot of guilt and blame for what happened between them, then he goes on to say that what he regrets most are the words he left unsaid, he regrets not showing his love and appreciation when he got the chance, which must hurt so much more after his death.

“Silent days, mysteries and mistakes

Who'd be the first to break?

Guess we're alike that way”

He starts off talking about silent days, this seems to be referencing times when he and his mother would purposefully ignore each other out of anger or hurt, over “mysteries and mistakes” meaning their communication skills were so bad, that sometimes he wouldn’t even know what she was angry about, and the mistakes” part may point to Luke’s habit of speaking before thinking thighs through, as well as the fact that their relationship was so strained that even a small misstep could cause a fight, which connects back to the silences between them, where Luke most likely figured that keeping his mouth shut was the easiest way to navigate his home life. Luke goes on to talk about who would “break” first, this seems to mean which one of them would break the silence and presumably start a fight, he then says that they are alike this way, he and his mother are both very strong willed people, that can hold on to a lot of hurt and anger, and when they break they are equally as passionate as each other. And in the context of this line, they are both angry at each other and just as stubborn in their conflict resolution.

“He said, she said

Conversations in my head

And that's just where they're gonna stay forever”

Luke starts off by making it clear that after arguments and especially when he ran away, he would replay their fights over and over, and think up better comebacks, or reasoning for his actions, maybe even apologies, but they’re only going to be in his head, because again he’s to prideful, ashamed, and guilty to actually talk this out with his parents, and in the meta narrative we know, he died far before he even started making amends.

“If you could only know I'd never let you go”

This last line is a bit of a play on words, it means “if only you knew I loved you, then I’d never have to let you go” but it also means he wishes desperately that they knew he would never willingly leave them. All Luke wants is to make it up to his parents, but he and his parents will never be able to go back and fix their past mistakes, all they can do is move on, and hope that one day they can see each other again.

[olivereliocorcordium1983]

Summary: "I will try it on for Oliver. If Oliver thinks I look like a scarecrow in it, I'm not wearing it." - Elio, (call me by your name) basically what would have happened if Oliver had stayed instead of going to see his translater. XD

(got inspired by a pic on @charmied and my muse hit here is what became of it! Enjoy! ❤️)

Oliver

The sun was particularly hot that day at the villa I was sitting outside with Elio and his family relaxing at the breakfast table, when I had heard Elio say something that caught my attention. More specifically caught me off guard as I was thinking about meeting my translator for the day and going over my book that evening. 

“I will try it on for Oliver. If Oliver thinks I look like a scarecrow in it, I'm not wearing it.”  

“Wait hold on! What? Why am I being roped into this and show me what?! “

I keep totally silent for a second until Elio catches my attention, and I just give him a look as he says, “Oliver? What do you think?” his eyes are hopeful.

“Why does he care what I think?”

I look at Annella who gives a soft smile and I quickly say, “What time you got?” grabbing Elio’s wrist, turning it in my hand so that I can look at his watch and he gives me another look that wishes for me not to go. Or is that irritation upon my multiple times of leaving? I can’t tell, either way this situation makes me nervous and I don’t trust myself. 

“Two thirty.”  Annella replies for Elio, before she puts her cigarette to her lips, all knowing smirk on her face. 

I watch Elio disappear into the house after that, practically running as fast as he can to get away from the table. 

‘I shouldn’t follow him, I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t.  I’ve been good, I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of… yet.’

I have been so good up until now, I have kept my distance from him not giving into the thoughts that come to my mind. My feelings about this boy have been kept to myself and the fear of them, make me nervous yet, it is no secret that I want him. But he doesn’t know that. 

‘Don’t follow him. Don’t…. Oh what the hell sate the curiosity before it’s too late. Besides, you have plenty of time.’ 

“Welp later mrs P.”  I reply giving her a closed mouth smile. 

“Later.”  she replies and as I head into the house, jogging lightly  I can feel her eyes staring at my back the entire time while I go and search for Elio. 

Once inside I look around and search for the professor I look into the kitchen, the study, the hallways, I even poke my head outside again just for good measure, and he isn’t anywhere to be found. The only person I find is Mafalda taking care of the fish Anchise brought from his daily catch, she looks up at me expectantly as if to ask  “can I help you?” and I just smile, backing out of the room and then I hear yelling coming from upstairs.

It’s the professor’s voice along with Elio’s petulant whine and I can’t help but head towards the staircase, my shoes giving off soft taps as they hit the floor, I place my hand on the railing and look up debating on whether or not I should go up and see what’s wrong.

“Papa! It will look up like a put up job!”

“No misbehaving tonight! No laughing. When I tell you to play you will play! You’re too old not to accept people for who they are! What’s wrong with them?”  

There is a pause and I slowly decide to ascend the stairs slowly, sliding my hand up the railing. The argument doesn’t sound like a full on angry fight like shouting but clearly pro is trying to make a point, I can also hear the sound of things being shuffled around, like hangers being dragged across metal. 

“What’s wrong with them? You call them Sonny and Cher! Behind their backs and then you accept gifts from them!”

“That is what mom calls them!” Elio shouts back a soft laugh in his voice and I shake my head slowly, as I stop at the top of the steps that lead into the hallway to the room I am staying in. 

“The only person that reflects badly on, is you. Is it because their gay? Or because they’re ridiculous?”

Elio is laughing by this point and all I can think is that if it was me, my father would have smacked me. No conversation at all just full on smacked. But I can’t help the snickers that come from my mouth that I muffle with the back of my hand, as I come closer. 

“Now get into this you.” and that was the last of the conversation and I move to the side as the professor comes out of the room, he looks at me and he shakes his head softly. I give him a look of comfort shrugging softly as I watch him move to my left to go back down the stairs, the sound of his shoes echo in my ears. 

I walk slowly to the bedroom door and gently knock once, twice, and then I open the door and step into the room, the sight that I see makes my eyes widen and my mouth goes dry. 

Elio is standing in front of the mirror with what I assume is the shirt in question on backwards with a fallen, almost frustrated look in his eyes as he finally notices me standing there. A blush comes over his cheeks and he looks away from me, ashamed almost from not being able to figure out how to put it on as I sit down in his chair at his desk. 

“That’s quite the… um... look you got on there, Elio. It’s-”

“Stupid. It’s stupid. I knew this was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have never-” He shakes his head, his soft curls bouncing around with the movement, his eyes welling up, his nose turning pink, he grabs the shirt and is about to pull it off when I suddenly reach out and stop him with my words. 

“Elio, come here… please.” 

‘What are you doing?! You said you wanted to be good! This is NOT being good!’ 

Silently he walks to me with his head down, slight pout on his red lips and all I can think about at that moment is wanting to kiss him. To taste his lips with mine, and admire the effort he has so strategically put together in order to I don’t know… get my attention. Well, you have it Elio you have my full attention now what? What is it that you want from me?

I look at him then at the “shirt” running my fingers over the straps first, they are softer than they look, that is surprising and I give an experimental tug on them. 

“What the fuck even is this? Cuz, this is the weirdest shirt I’ve ever seen!” There is a smile in my voice and Elio shrugs his shoulders at me, the pout isn’t there anymore but is replaced with slight mirth, and I know he is trying his best not to laugh. 

“How should I know, it was a gift from one of my parent’s friends and his husband, who are coming over for dinner tonight. I don’t know what the fuck they were thinking sending this to me, I can’t even put whatever this thing is on right.”

Against my better intentions I decide that we should inspect this so called “shirt” a little further and Elio blinks at me, hands down at his sides, he does this awkward sway and the air has turned and changed between us. 

“Let’s see if we can’t figure this thing out together.”  

“Yes, please,” he replies biting his lip. It comes out in a nervous almost breathless nature and I can tell he wants me to touch him. This is why he wanted me up here after all isn’t it? To show me what he was going to wear or was it just a false pretence for something else. 

I gently tug on the straps and pull his slender frame towards me, so that he is close standing between my legs, his stomach fully exposed to me, his chest slightly covered by the top of the shirt oh hell, lets just call it what it looks like alright? It looks like a damn bib? Yes. I will settle for that than calling it a shirt, most shirts that I have seen have backs on them. This thing… doesn’t and the skin that I have longed to touch is staring me in the face right now.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Go shut the door please.” I instruct and I watch Elio do as he is told, shutting the door and locking it. He makes his way back over to me and again I grab the straps hanging down his front and pull him towards me again. 

“Okay turn around for me.”  He turns slowly so that his back is facing me and I see the whole bib is sequenced into some wild pattern. Without even thinking I reach out and let my hand run it slowly and I see Elio visibly shutter, now whether that is because of me or the temperature of the room I don’t know. 

“Well…” he trails off in an annoyed sigh. “Hurry up! They could be here any minute and I don’t want to have my father come back up here and scold me again!” 

“Do you want my help or not Elio cuz if not-”  he interrupts me then as he turns to face me again, his hand shooting out to touch my left shoulder, his eyes focused on mine, the nervous energy he holds comes out, as he tries to back petal his attitude towards me.

“No! I mean… uh, yes, I do want your help.” He looks away from me staring at something more interesting to his left side, picking out a book possibly to look at other than my face. “I’m sorry, I just don’t see why I have to impress those people who have known me since birth Oliver. It seems I don't know… redundant don’t you think?” 

I chuckle leaning forward. I purposefully press my lips into his belly and close my eyes briefly when I hear Elio’s soft gasp, and his long fingers playing with my hair. I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I can’t help myself, his skin is so soft looking and I want to help him relax so why not? 

‘There goes my will for being good’

“Whaa… Oliver, What are you doing?!” He laughs when I nuzzle him and he pulls me closer, trying to steady himself as I let my hands roam over his sides, over his ticklish spots and back down. 

“Helping you relax.” are the only words that leave my mouth and I smirk of course I am doing what I always do with him teasing, in hopes of lightening his mood. “You worry too much, you know that. They probably aren’t even going to notice your shirt. It doesn’t even look stupid so… take it off and let me put it on you the right way.”

So far all we have done was constantly flirt with each other on occasion. From the day I sat with him in the hallway and massaged his feet, to the playful banter back and forth in the pool. It all has led to this moment right here, and all I can think about is wanting to touch and kiss every inch of  his skin. He is all I have dreamed about, the consequences be damned. It is his fault, he ignited the flame first, and now I have no control well, at least not when he is sliding his hand through the collar of my shirt, his fingers brushing over my collar bones. 

I slowly stand up to full height and he takes a step back, lifting his arms up over his head, off the bib goes exposing his beautiful pale skin. I smile down at him and he looks up at me with such innocence,that I don’t know what to do with myself. 

‘Focus on the task at hand Oliver!’  

My mind chides me while my heart is in my throat. I turn the contraption around and slowly slip it over his head and he slips his arms through the holes. Then he slowly turns around so that I can help him with the straps, I pull them, tight but not tight enough to hurt him and tie them off, my knuckles gently and soothingly brushing against his skin. 

He turns to face me and without preamble I take his face into my hands, my thumbs sweeping across his pale cheeks, my eyes soften. “It looks lovely on you, Elio.” and then I press my lips to his, closing my eyes, I breath him in briefly as his body slowly melts into mine, my fingers curl around the back of his neck gently. 

The kiss isn’t demanding; it's just brief too brief as I pull away at the honk of a horn and Elio’s father calling him from outside. 

“See you at midnight. Later!”  I say enthusiastically with a wink, leaving him standing there in his room, with his eyes closed and a smile on his kiss swollen lips. 

(sorry for any mistakes I typed this out rather quickly)

[himbothomas]

Video Games || 2018 || PT. 1

“Your house is nice.” 

Dean says, mostly to be polite but also cause he means it. Levi scoffs, leading him around the cluttered kitchen island towards the basement steps. His older sister, Sabrina, had already stalked upstairs, but she’d smiled when Dean told her she was a good driver, and had let him pick out which Paramore CD to play. She smelled really good, too, but Dean wasn’t about to risk one of the only friendships he had. And, until yesterday when he asked him to hang out after school today, Levi had been strictly a practice and class friend. They usually had to run laps together for dicking around between drills and usually got detention together for dicking around between classes, but this was different. It’s not like Dean was hurting for friends-everyone liked him and he and most of the other 11th graders on the football team hung out together in a big group, but no one has ever invited him over to their house. Just him. 

And Levi. Dean really likes Levi. Really likes him. He, Dean notices as they settle on the well worn couch, also smells really good. 

Shit. Fuck. Dean stops just short of shaking himself. He-well he wasn’t gay. He likes girls. But he also likes…Levi. It’s stupid and Dean knows it-the best thing that could come out of acting on those sorts of feelings is getting completely ostrichized. He’d be lucky if he didn’t end up hospitalized, for that matter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t look. Or think about him before he falls asleep. Or purposefully get detention for the third time in a week so they could keep hanging out. Levi settles next to him, and it’s not weird for Dean to look, so he does. Curly black hair and eyes that were green in the right light. A tan that was half freckles and a quarter Puerto Rico and a smile that keeps Dean up at night, one he returns easily. 

“Oh.” Levi says, standing again to grab the Xbox controllers. Dean tries not to look at his ass but it’s right there. Maybe he just likes nice asses. That’s not that weird. 

Levi hands him the controller and continues to fuck with his Xbox. 

“Madden or call of duty?” 

Dean scoffs “You think after finally being done with football season, I wanna play football on screen?”

“So you suck at Madden?” Levi responds, booting up the game and laughing when Dean flips him off. 

“No I’m just trying to be a good guest-“

“You just flipped me the bird-“

“I don’t think it’s polite to kick your host’s ass within 20 minutes of arrival.”

“Whatever.” Levi says, sitting back on the couch and closer to Dean. It’s just because he has wired controllers and doesn’t want to stretch the cord out. Dean has to stop from physically yelping when their knees touch. He shifts away. Levi, for his part, is texting. 

“My mom says you can eat dinner with us if you want.”

The thought of processed food not from the organic grocery store is even more attractive than his friend or his sister. 

“Oh cool. Sure, thanks.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna ask your parents?”

“Do they still hold your hand when you cross the street, little boy?”

“Fuck off. “Levi shoves him and Dean laughs

“Nah I don’t have to do shit. My mom doesn’t care about me and Kenny forgets my name once football is over.”

“Oh shut up, sad sack your mom cares about you.” Levi rolls his eyes and picks the Dallas Cowboys as his team. Dean let’s him and picks the Patriots simply because-

“Why the fuck did you pick the worst team to ever fucking exist?”

“I figured if you’re gonna insist that I kick your ass I might as well break your spirit too.”

Levi shoves him again and Dean’s mission is accomplished. “Bastard.”

“Yeah, technically.”

Levi rolls his eyes again and they start to play. When Levi is down 40 points, Dean speaks. 

“She really doesn’t care though. My mom. Which is cool most of the time cause I can do whatever I want,  but last year she forgot about my birthday until it was 6 weeks later.” 

Levi turns his head to look at him.  “Oh you’re not kidding, are you?”

“Why do you think she bought me a car before I could drive?”

He’d failed his test twice at this point but that didn’t matter. 

“That’s uh…pretty fucked, man.”

Dean shrugs. “It is what it is. I’m just wall decor unless there’s football talk or she needs to prove to someone she was once liberal enough to fuck a black guy.” Levi chokes a little on the Gatorade he's drinking.

 “Jesus.”

“Nah, his name is Rodney.”

“Do you see him ever?” Levi asks. Something about the genuine curiosity in his voice is so nice that Dean lets him get a first down. 

“Ha!” 

“Nah. He took off when I was like…4? 5? And then we lived with my grandparents for a bit, which was cool. My grandpa was fucking awesome. But he died when I was like, 9 and mom was already with Kenny at that point so I never felt like I could ask about my dad.”

“You ever wanna meet him?”

Usually people express some sort of false sympathy for him, but Levi is too focused on making passes Dean is letting slide.

 “Oh I did. Last Christmas. We met at Waffle House.  He asked me for money.”

“What?!” Levi pauses the game and stares at him. “Whatd you do?”

Dean shrugs.  “I had like $50 on me so I uh…gave it to him.”

The tips of his ears burn with shame and he looks away, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“Jesus I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to like-Thats some tough shit, Deanie.” 

Levi had been the first to call him that. Dean has been pretending for almost two and a half years that it didn’t make his heart race. 

“It’s ok. Really. It sort of…I know now. It sucks but I can’t do a whole lot about it.”

Levi sighs. “Yeah but I shouldn’t have, like,  forced you to tell me.” 

“You didn’t.” Dean says easily. “It was actually nice to tell someone that.”

“Thomas.”

“Sanchez.”

“You’ve never told anyone that before?” No one’s eyes have any business looking that pretty when they’re sad. Especially Levi’s. Dean shrugs again, his voice a little lower.

 “My mom doesn’t even know I met him. She’d just get pissed at me anyway so like…” he shrugs again. He feels Levi’s eyes on him and it makes his stomach tighten. “Do you wanna get back to the game or is therapy Levi still happening?”

“Stop being an asshole. That’s…so much, dude.”

“Yeah, a real winner runs through my DNA. Glad I kept his name.”

Levi groans. “You make me feel like a dick for being unhappy here.”

“You are a dick. Your mom lets you have video games and a whole basement that I’m guessing you decorated unless she’s a Kate Upton fan.” 

Levi snorts. “I don’t entirely feel bad for you and your step dad’s fucking fortune and mansion.”

Dean doesn’t say anything because he knows Levi is right. “I dunno man, I’d give it all up for there to be bacon in the house.”

“What?!”

They keep talking as they play the game. Levi asks questions that are direct without prying. Dean tries to ask them back. He is shortly losing by 70 points. When the cowboys win, he does his best to demand a rematch, which, really, means he gets to keep talking to Levi. 

“So-“ Levi says. “I think it’s only fair since you told me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine.” 

Dean snorts. “This isn’t a friendship based on transactions you weirdo.” 

“Right, yeah. Then I’m gonna be super narcissistic and make it about me.” Dean laughs at this and it’s  his turn to pause the game. 

“You uh, told me all that stuff because why?” Levi’s voice is different. Less confidence. Dean slowly realizes he’s nervous.

“I trust you.” Dean says, realizing he does as he says it. 

“You do?”

“Should I not? Are you as shitty at keeping secrets as you are at realizing things?”

When Levi doesn’t laugh, Dean puts his controller down fully and turns to him. “Dude are you ok?”

“Yeah I  uh-so what I told you before was a secret isn’t exactly secret it’s just…something I wanna ask about to see if it’s uh, normal.”

Something small and evil like a shred of hope crawls into Dean's stomach. 

“Even if it’s not, Levi, I wouldnt you know, treat you differently for it.”

Levi scoffs again and Dean frowns. “What? I mean it. Have you ever known me to like, you know, judge people or whatever?”

Levi considers this and, as he strokes his thumb slowly up and down his index finger, his voice relaxes.  “No. I guess I haven’t. You’re even nice to Dan-Danielle Stevens.”

Danielle was openly trans and braver than anyone else Dean knew.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We live in Texas.”

“And I’m Black. And from Wisconsin.” 

Levi laughs. “Two things I always say about you.”

Dean can’t help himself.  “You talk about me a lot?”

He could be mistaken, but some of Levi’s freckles darken. “That’s not-do you want me to tell you the question or not?”

“Ask me the question, Leev.” Dean says, hoping he’s right. 

Levi takes a breath. They’re facing each other on the couch now, controllers as abandoned as their math homework. 

“I was just uh, you know, wondering if you-or if it’s normal or whatever... to think what it’d be like to you know…kiss another guy or something.”

All the blood leaves Dean’s upper body and rushes south. 

“I think that’s normal.” Dean says, hoping he didn’t pause too long or answer too eagerly. “I mean it’s 2018, you know. Like all that gay shit is way more accepted so like, we see it more and maybe it sparks some inspiration or something.” 

“Right. Ok. Yeah. Like when you see an ad for something a bunch of times and then you finally buy it. “ 

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Curiosity isn’t bad unless you’re a cat or like, a guy who defuses bombs.”

Levi laughs and moves a bit closer. 

 “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“You’re getting really close to your allotted time slot being up but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I hate you.” Levi says, his smile directed just at Dean is too much to handle. 

“Have you ever thought about-”

Before Levi finishes, Dean closes the distance between them, stretching out on the couch and very carefully and purposefully placing his lips on Levi’s. 

And its right. It’s so right Dean almost feels bad for being so ashamed of all the times he’s thought about it. 

Levi pulls away just slightly and when his thumb comes up to trace Dean’s cheekbone, that evil shred of hope doubles in size. 

They stay like that for an hour, getting bolder and more confident with each kiss, their hands firmly on each other’s. When his mom comes home with the smell of pizza lingering with her and calls down the stairs, they pull apart. Without speaking, Dean knows they’re not going to talk about it, but he can’t even bring himself to care-everything he’d been fantasizing about was so much better in practice. Even if Levi never wants to see him again-

“You wanna come over again tomorrow?” Levi says, clearing his throat. His hand covers Dean’s on the couch and gives him a squeeze. 

Dean’s fate is sealed before he can even finish saying “Sure.”

[sams-sass]

You Found Me Pt. 3

Hi! Here is part three to You Found Me. So happy you guys are liking this series.

GIF not mine 

Read Parts One, Two, Four, Five, and Epilogue Here: 

Part One    

Part Two

Part Four

Part Five

Epilogue

Summary: You, Sam, and Dean get to know each other better. 

Characters: You, Sam, Dean, and Cas

Pairings: Sam x Reader (we made it happen). 

Warnings: Language, fluff, mentions of Sam’s past. 

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The next morning the four of you sat at the table in the kitchen eating bacon, eggs, and toast. There was something bothering you. You heard them talking, but could only focus on the puzzle pieces falling into place in your head.

“You know what I don’t understand?” You were looking at the back wall, not really even registering the guys. “I was convinced it was a birthmark because my mom had the exact same one and so did her parents. I came home crying from school when I was 12 because in science class we learned that only family can have the same birthmarks and I was convinced my grandparents were siblings. My mom assured me that it was because they were from the same small village, but I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. They died when I was 14, on the same day if you can believe that.” The boys were all looking at you, trying to understand what you were telling them. “Oh my god!” You said, standing up. “That’s it!” You raced from the kitchen into the library where you started to grab the books you and Sam had looked at before. “I saw something yesterday, but it didn’t make any sense so I ignored it.” You said skimming through pages. “Here! ‘It is believed by some that empaths are still alive. They are not extinct, but only hiding.’ This is it! Don’t you see?” You asked looking up at them.

“No.” Dean said bluntly.

“My grandparents were empaths too, they had my mom who was an empath and then she married my dad, probably thinking she would be safe because he’s a human. She passed her abilities to me and I turned out to be an empath too.”

“I think I’m starting to catch on.” Sam said.

“Please, share with the class.” Dean said looking between the two of you.

“If you were a powerful being and your people were being hunted, systematically wiped out. You would try and do something to stop it, right?” You said looking at Dean.

“Of course.” He said, the wheels in his head spinning.

“That’s exactly what they did. They gave up their powers by masking them with the mark of a witch. That way they would be considered extinct, but they would actually be hiding in plain sight.” You said talking with your hands now, your voice rising an octave.

“You not only get to live a life free of harm, you ensure the survival of the race.” Sam said, just as excited as you were.

“Exactly!” You said pointing at him.

“Holy crap!” Dean said, getting excited too. “This all makes sense now!”

“It even makes sense why you’re so powerful.” Cas said, speaking for the first time.

“Wait. Why?” You asked looking him in the eyes.

“You’re half human.”

“Of course!” Sam said looking at you.

“I don’t understand. Wouldn’t I be weaker being half human, only being half empath?” You asked Cas, your brow furrowing.

“No, when powerful beings have offspring with a human that offspring is often the most powerful one of its kind. You could be the most powerful empath to live.” Cas explained. All the color drained from your face as your smile fell. Your eyes shifted away from them and you began to cry, covering you face with your hands you turned away from them. The three men looked at each other with wide eyes and confused expressions at your sudden mood change.

“I’m sorry. I just feel so lost in all of this, I always liked being highly perceptive to people and their emotions, but this is a lot. It’s all just so sudden.” You explained facing them again, wiping your eyes. “I really am so grateful for all your help, I just feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Cas felt sorry for you, but he also felt helpless in the matter. You could sense him trying to search for the right words to say and always coming up empty. Dean felt sorry for you too, his fear of you was waning and you could tell part of him was starting to really like you. There was a part of him that understood where you were coming from. Understood the pressure to be someone you never wanted to be, feeling like everything rested on your shoulders. You gave him a small smile and felt relief wash away some of his nervousness. Sam, on the other hand, was a whole different story. You felt his complete understanding, his sorrow, his empathy. There was not a part of him that was scared of you, his mind was turning through all the emotions he had once felt. Feeling them right along side you. You looked deep into his eyes, you could feel the apprehension of getting too close to you in him, but he looked right back. His hand came up to rest on yours and you gasped as images filled your mind.

A girl screaming on a ceiling, blood across her stomach, flames surrounding her. Sam waking up in a cold sweat only to be laying next to the girl in bed. Fear and hatred coursing through is veins.

Sam crying, watching their apartment burn after it actually happened. Guilt consumed him, he knew what was going to happen and he ignored it.

He’s older now, drinking blood and absolutely hating himself for it. Convincing himself he is doing the right thing. Sadness and desperation filling his soul.

His eyes turning black as he kills someone. Violence and disgust pulsating out of him.

Sam’s face as he realizes he started the apocalypse. More guilt, anger, and fear coming out of every part of him.

“I’m the least of any of you.” He says to Dean, self-loathing eating away at him.

Sam jumping into a hole to save the world. Relief and peace evident on his face.

You gasped again coming back into the room, you had fresh tears in your eyes, looking at Sam you saw he did too.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.” You furiously tried to apologize. Sam cleared his throat and took a step back from you. He was upset. You looked at Dean and Cas, they were just staring at you not understanding what happened. You apologized one more time before darting to your room. Closing the door, you fell on the bed and let the tears come. You were devastated, you felt the connection between you and Sam was so strong. So real. Now, it was over, he would never want to talk to you again. Not after you jumped into his mind. You were also crying about what you saw. Sam had lived a hard life, you guessed Dean did too. Sympathy and remorse coursed through you as you cried for both of them, for their broken lives. You got up and grabbed the flannel Dean had given you, judging by its size, it was Sam’s. You tore the shirt you were wearing off and put on the flannel, inhaling his scent made you calm down a bit. Laying back down on the bed, you stared at the ceiling wondering how you were ever going to get the courage to leave the room. You aren’t sure how long you laid there, but a knock on your door startled you. You could feel Sam through the door, feel his uneasiness about talking to you. You took a big breath and stood up, determined to fix this. Opening the door, you sent Sam a shy smile.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. You were so afraid of crying again that you just nodded and stepped aside to let him in. He walked in your room and sat down on your bed. He felt embarrassed and ashamed, you didn’t know why, you were the one who should be embarrassed. You decided to just go for it.

“Sam, I am so sorry, I would never have done that purposefully. I am so sorry, but why are you embarrassed?” His eyes snapped to yours, a flash of anger came and went as he breathed heavily, chest rising and falling.

“I’m embarrassed because I never wanted you to know any of that about me, Y/N. About all the horrible things I did in my past. All the mistakes I made that made every situation worse. All the people I hurt.” He was so caught up in his mistakes that he couldn’t see past it.

“Sam, I get how you might think that way, but its not true at all. I saw some of your darkest moments, the things you bury and try to forget about. I saw them Sam, and the only feeling I have towards you is empathy.” You said sitting next to him on the bed. He looked at you and let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxed and the left side of his mouth pulled up in a smile.

“How could you possibly feel that way?” He asked, confusion and relief coming off of him.

“I have done dumb stuff too, Sam, everyone has. What makes a bad person bad is that they do bad things because they want to, because they simply don’t care how their actions affect others. What makes a good person good, is that they care. They care deeply when they do something bad and they try to do the right thing to right their wrong. They take responsibility for their actions and do whatever is in their power to fix it. That’s what I saw you do, every time. You admitted that you were wrong and tried to fix it.” Sam was staring at you now. Hope and comfort filled his body. “If there was ever a person who you should believe about yourself, its me, and you are a good man, Sam.”

“Thank you.” Was all he said. There was a new feeling emerging from him. It felt warm and thick, like honey. Sam felt hot and full.

“Sam.” You started. “I feel like we have a connection, I feel close to you. I can feel that you feel it too. I know it’s silly because we just met yesterday practically, but its strong.”

“You’re right. I do feel it too.” Sam said leaning towards you.

“I don’t want to scare you by touching you again.” Your breathing was becoming heavier.

“Y/N, please touch me.” You reached up and put your hands on either side of his face. You gasped again as images of you through Sam’s eyes floated through your head.

You were chained to the wall. Anger and compassion hit Sam at the same time when he laid eyes on you. He ran to you and instantly felt better once he had you in his arms.

You were leaning against him on the car ride to the bunker. Complete awe, admiration, and sympathy was all he felt as your head lolled against his shoulder.

He was carrying you into the bunker. You could feel that all he wanted was your safety.

He was cleaning your skin on the bed. He felt protective and warm, he was so happy you were alive. He didn’t even know you and the relief he felt from you hanging on to life was almost tangible.

You had just walked out of the shower almost walked right into him. You could feel him thinking about how good you looked in his shirt. How he couldn’t believe that this sweet, powerful, and beautiful girl was in his life.

You came back into the room. Sam was staring at you, his eyes full of questions. His hands ran their way up your thighs and landed on your hips, pulling you to him slightly.

“I don’t know what will happen if we go further.” You said, trying to keep everything on the table.

“Only one way to find out.” He said with a smile. “I don’t know why I feel so strongly about you, but I do. We don’t have to do….everything just yet. We can take this as slow as you want.”

“I just want to try one thing.” You whispered, moving closer to him. Your hands threaded through his hair and you felt him restraining himself. Desire coursed through you both. Your lips touched and all the bottled up feelings you both had came pouring out. His mouth opened as your lips parted. His tongue dominated your mouth, swallowing the whimper that came out of you. His hands moved higher up your body, caressing the soft skin under your shirt. Your back arched into his chest as his arms closed around you, pulling you further to him. Your mind was swimming in ecstasy as your legs parted slightly.

“Y/N, what is this? Why does this feel so good?” He asked, breaking away from you and resting his forehead against yours. You shook your head slightly as a hand ran down his chest playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know, but I feel it too.” You agreed, both of you were panting. You smiled and started to laugh; Sam looked into your eyes and started to laugh too. This all felt so good, his skin was so hot on yours and the desire he was feeling for you was pulsing into you. You both detangled yourselves from each other, you touched your lips as Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, I would like to do that again, but not at the moment. I want to get to know you better first.” He said, you could tell he was conflicted. Part of him wanted to wait and talk, but another part of him wanted to rip your clothes off and take you right here and now.

“What now?” You said trying to find something to do with your hands besides dragging your nails down his skin.

“Well, we could like hang out?” He suggested with a shrug and a raise of his eyebrows.

“Sure!” You said quickly. “I like movies and snacks.” You said hopeful.

“Me too.” He said with a smile. You both got off the bed and left the room. “What kind of snacks?” He asked as you two walked down the hallway.

“Oh, I have an idea.” You said looking at him from under your eyelashes. He sent you a crooked smile that made your heart skip a beat. You both walked into the kitchen and you got right to work. Basic ingredients, flour, sugar, chocolate chips, butter, eggs. The essentials. Sam was leaning against the counter with his arms over his chest, watching you as you took everything out.

“Cookies?” He asked.

“Better.” You answered with what you hoped was a flirty smile. You made a dough and folded the chocolate chips into it. You took the dough and rolled it out onto the counter, flattening it to about ½ inch thick. Taking a sharp knife you cut the dough into pieces and placed them on a baking sheet. Placing them in the oven, you turned towards Sam. He was staring at you with soft eyes and a dazed expression. Hope was burning through him, hope like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“It seemed like you were pretty good at that.” Sam said.

“My mom loved to bake, I used to watch her in the kitchen all the time. She would “nervous bake” as she called it. Whenever my dad was away for anything she would just bake and bake until he came home. I would feel bad for getting a little excited when my dad would leave, but I knew that I was just going to be stuffed with cupcakes, cookies, bread, and homemade candy for a few days.” You said looking into the distance, lost in the memory. When you looked at Sam the feeling of longing was coming off of him in strong waves. “So, movie?” You said.

“Yeah, what’s your favorite movie?” He asked.

“Humm, well am I trying to laugh, cry, be enthralled in action?” Sam pondered your question for a moment.

“Laugh.” He said looking at you.

“I was hoping you would say that. In that case, its Y/F/M.”

“I love that movie! One of my all-time favorites, we have it here!” You two were smiling at each other again, lost in the feeling.

“What is that smell?” Dean asked walking into the room.

“I baked! They are almost ready.” You said proudly.

“Whatever they are, they smell amazing.” Dean said with a nod of his head. The timer on your phone went off and you pulled the tray from the oven and turned to face them.

“They have to cool slightly.” You said, pointing at Dean.

“What are they?” Dean asked you peering around your shoulder.

“Chocolate scones, they are 10 times better than cookies.” You said. “Hey, where’s Cas?” You asked looking around for the angel.

“Oh, this hunter we know, Claire, she called thinking she had something. He left to check it out with her.” Dean answered coming over to smell the scones again. Dean was feeling better about you, he was starting to trust you more and he could tell that you had a thing for Sam.

“Y/N and I were going to watch a movie if you wanted to join, Dean.” Sam offered to his brother. You could feel that he was silently begging him to say no. You lowered your head to smile.

“Yeah, yeah I would like that.” Dean said. Surprisingly, you felt that Dean knew Sam wanted him to say no. You once again had to smile to yourself at the brotherly banter.

“These are cooled down enough. Is there a plate I can put them on?” You asked both the boys. Dean got you a plate that you placed the scones on the plate and walked past both boys to the living room. You all sat down on the couch, you in the middle. Dean brought in beers, whiskey and wine.

“Take your pick.” He said.

“Wine!” You almost yelled.

“Beer.” Sam said. Each of them took a scone and a drink. They each took a bite and moaned.

“This is fucking delicious. What did you do?” Dean said.

“You have officially ruined all other baked goods for me. Holy shit.” Sam said putting down his beer to grab another scone. You all watched the movie laughing together, drinking, and eating. As the night went on Sam started to feel so good, he completely forgot that he hadn’t wanted Dean here. He realized that he wanted Dean to get to know you too. Everything about you was amazing. Whenever you were near, Sam felt whole for the first time in his life, he felt at peace.

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Three Days Later

“So, check this out.” Sam said walking into the library with his laptop. You and Dean were sitting at a table trying to find anymore lore on empaths and how to control the power.

“What’s up?” Dean asked his brother, looking up at him.

“About two hours from here a girl was found with her throat ripped out and almost all of her blood gone.”

“Vamp?” Dean asked.

“Looks like it.” Sam agreed, nodding. Both the brothers looked at you.

“It’s ok, I won’t ask to come.” You said rolling your eyes and smiling. They smiled back at you.

“Maybe one day, Y/N/N, but right now we don’t want the whole monster world to know about you just yet.” Dean explained, he was telling the truth, but there was something else. Something he wouldn’t admit yet. He was scared to lose you.

“I know.” You said giving him a playful elbow to his shoulder. You were starting to get better with physical contact. You could imagine a wall blocking out the mental images and for the most part you could stop them from invading your mind. It didn’t always work and sometimes shoulders touched, hands brushed up against one another, friendly pats were given without warning. Sometimes you couldn’t help it.

“Pack up, Sammy. We leave in 10.” Dean said to his brother as he walked out of the library and down the hall to his room. Sam looked back at you and his whole face softened.

“Hey, vamps are usually a quick hunt. We shouldn’t be gone for too long.” Sam said coming over to lean against the corner of the table you were sitting at.

“Good, I don’t really want to be here alone.” You said standing up to face him.

“I don’t want you to be either.” He said, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. He wanted you and you wanted him. This pull you were feeling towards each other was getting stronger. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. “I really do have to pack.” He said, his breath hot against your lips.

“I know, I can help.” You said as he began to stand up straight.

“Sure.” He nodded and the two of you walked to his room. He got out a duffel and started throwing clothes into it. You sat on his bed and asked a few questions about vampires.

“Come on, Sam!” Dean called from the hallway.

“Looks like I gotta go.” Sam said coming to sit next to you. You nodded and his hand came up to cup your cheek. “I’ll miss you.” He said stroking your face with his thumb.

“I’ll miss you too, Sam.” You said leaning closer to him. His lips touched yours and just like the first time you were both lost in bliss and desire. Your lips parted as his tongue danced with yours, you moaned into his mouth and Sam pulled away. He kissed your forehead and you could feel the restraint he was exercising. You both stood up and made your way to the war room. Dean leaned forward and kissed you on the cheek.

“See you later, kid.” He said with a smile.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Sam said with soft eyes.

“Be safe.” You said to both of them as they walked out the door.

You spent the next few hours looking through the lore again, looking for anyway on how to control your power. An idea hit you. You focused on Sam’s face and closed your eyes. You found yourself in the backseat of the impala looking at the shoulders of both boys.

“So how many you think are in there?” Sam asked.

“Not a clue, too many.” Dean responded. You walked out of the car and into the boarded up house. You counted the bodies and where they were in the house. You walked back out to the boys. They were out of the car now, getting machetes from the trunk. You touched both of their shoulders at the same time.

“Hiya!” You said.

“Jesus!” Sam said jumping slightly.

“The fuck?” Dean said jumping and reaching for his gun.

“Y/N?” Sam asked.

“I’m at the bunker, don’t worry. Thought I might try to help. There are 12 of them in there 3 in the room to the left when you walk in, 3 in the room on the right down the hall, and 6 in the living room. All of them are just like hanging out, didn’t look like they were going anywhere soon.” You sent them mental images of the house and where all the vampires were. 

“Thank you.” Sam said to the air where he thought you might be.

“You’re awesome, thanks Y/N/N.” Dean said looking around everywhere making you giggle.

“See you guys soon, stay safe.” You said letting go of them and closing your eyes. When you opened them again you were back in the bunker. You set about to work.

The boys found that it was one of the easiest jobs they had ever worked. All the vamps were where you showed them they would be and it made for easy clean up. They got in the car and started the drive home.

“I know you two have something going on.” Dean said to his brother, glancing out the corner of his eye.

“I know you know.” Sam said back. “I can’t explain it, Dean. When I’m with her I just feel so…happy. She makes me feel good, like really good.”

“Ew. I didn’t ask about your sex life.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Sam said with a small smile. “She makes me feel whole, I know its weird.” Sam said looking out the window.

“No it’s not, Sammy. If she makes you happy then go for it.” Dean said nodding.

They pulled up to the bunker at around 2am. They were both beat, dirty, and hungry. Walking down the stairs they both smelt something amazing. They took a deep inhale and smiled. They turned into the kitchen and sprawled on the kitchen counter were baked goods. There was a pecan pie with a note marked to ‘Dean’ next to it.

Dean,

When you said bye to me earlier all I saw was visions of pecan pie. Glad you’re back safe.

-Y/N

Next to the pie was a pile of shortbread cookies with a note marked for ‘Sam’.

Sam,

I know you appreciate things as they should be, but also like a little twist. I made you lavender and lemon shortbread cookies. I’m glad you came back to me.

P.S. I guess nervous baking runs in the family

-Y/N

Dean was already a third of the way through his pie when Sam took a look at him.

“Sam, if you don’t marry her I will.” Dean said with a laugh, food all around his face. Sam laughed with him and put the note down to take a bite of a cookie, it was out of this world delicious. He finished about four and then made his way to your room. You weren’t in there. He ran into the living room and saw you sound asleep on the couch. He gently picked you up to carry you into your room. You stirred in his arms as he walked and gently opened your eyes.

“Sam.” You mumbled against his chest. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Y/N.” Sam was so happy to hold you once again. He couldn’t wait for more moments like this. After laying you in bed where you instantly fell back asleep, he showered and laid down for a restful sleep of his own.

Tags: @hunting-the-grievers

[dhufflebee]

damned thoughts, damning decisions  (a Glee fanfiction)

One-shot Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Jesse St. James; Rachel Berry   Additional Tags: Missing Scene; Confrontations; trying to make sense of Jesse's face-heel turn in "Funk"; Slight blackmail; Shelby is terrible (sorry)

Also read on:  AO3  |  ff.net Summary: Jesse is summoned by Shelby and given an ultimatum. A change (a betrayal?) of that kind needs some sort of reason, though, even for a mess of a teenager like he is.

I know it’s been years, but I’m still pissed at the bad writing re: Jesse at the end of season 1. He did have his dickish moments throughout the episodes, sure, but such an abrupt change in behavior makes no sense – there was no context or explanation at all, and we deserved more, as did the characters. I don’t think the events in Funk were part of the plan from the start (because nothing that happens or is said beforehand supports it), and I’m convinced that it was a later development, and an unwelcome one at that.

Hence, this bridge-the-gap scene that’s been on my mind since the first time I watched the show. I’ve read some great fics about this plot point over the years; I guess it was time to write mine. it’s not elaborate nor particularly insightful – mostly Jesse being a conflicted teenager under pressure and (sadly) an all-around mess. I just wish they’d put something in the show so the whole situation would feel less out of the blue.

Lastly, sorry to Shelby fans, but I kind of hate her. Also, peer pressure is a bitch (and I’m sure it played a huge part in the whole debacle, even if I just hint at it in this fic).

“So, what happened to ‘I regret never getting to hold her’ and all that?” Jesse asked with a hard voice, and dropped his school bag unceremoniously on the ground. He was tired after the drive from Lima to Akron on a school-day afternoon, and annoyed about being rudely summoned like some sort of minion. (He guessed he was a bit angry at himself as well, because it was not like he’d protested all that much.) Mostly, though, he was pissed at Shelby for the way she’d treated Rachel, his anger fueled by the fresh memory of his girlfriend tearfully recounting how she’d been rejected by her mother. Again.

“I beg your pardon?” Shelby retorted, arching an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“That whole convoluted plan just so you could finally meet Rachel, and then that’s how you treat her?” Jesse tried to keep his voice steady, but the situation and Shelby’s blasé attitude were making his blood boil.

“Who do you think you are, our family counselor?” Shelby sneered, and Jesse barely suppressed the urge to up and leave right then and there. “What I decide to do with my life is none of your business.”

“It kinda is, though,” Jesse spat, bitterly. “Since, you know, Rachel is my girlfriend, and you are the one who forced me to take part in this charade!”

Shelby stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. “I seem to recall you being ok with it, mister ‘it’s going to be a good acting exercise’.”

“Well, I recall telling you I wasn’t all that comfortable with it anymore, and you ignoring me and even doubling down on it.”

“You seemed awfully comfortable with your spot amongst New Directions, though. And yet, you still went on spring break with Vocal Adrenaline,” Shelby mused, smirking unkindly.

Jesse inhaled sharply, clenched his fists and looked at his feet, the shame that had been in the back of his mind for the past months flaring up. “That’s not fair,” he whispered. “It was just Andy and a couple of others—they’re my friends…”

“Anyway,” Shelby interjected, matter-of-factly. “I don’t care about your holidays, and I don’t have any more time to waste. I told you to come here to say this—you’re coming back to Carmel by the end of the week.”

Jesse’s head shot up, and he stared at Shelby in utter bewilderment. “What? No!”

“Oh, I’m sorry—was there anything in our arrangement that made you believe I’d let you spend the rest of the year in that mediocre school?” she asked, sarcasm dripping from very word.

“But I thought—” Jesse frowned, and shook his head; he didn’t know how to finish the sentence (really, what had he been thinking?).

“You clearly didn’t,” Shelby said, raising her eyebrows. “I want you back in this auditorium by Friday. And I won’t be accepting excuses.”

“But I can’t!” Jesse pleaded. “What about Rachel?”

“Oh, Rachel understands that I’m not in the right headspace to be her mom at the moment,” Shelby answered, waiving her hand nonchalantly. “She was very sympathetic.”

Jesse’s anger came back in full force, burning at the pit of his stomach. “It was all a front, just so you know. She didn’t want you to feel like she was a burden, but honest to God, in hindsight she should have raged at you for being a —”

“Don’t you dare,” Shelby hissed, shutting him up. “You have no say in the matter.”

“I do, too! I’m owed the right to speak my mind,” Jesse exclaimed. “And whatever the circumstances, Rachel is still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah well, that has to end.”

Jesse deflated. “What?”

“I’m sure you realize that, if you come back to Vocal Adrenaline, you can’t keep dating the lead of New Directions,” Shelby said, with the tone one would reserve for an eight-year-old.

“But I don’t want to,” Jesse answered, his voice no more than a whisper.

“What was that?”

“I said, I don’t want to,” he repeated, standing a bit straighter.

“It was not a suggestion, Jesse.”

“I already told you, though! I like Rachel, for real. I know this all started as a ruse, but now I think I might even be—” Jesse couldn’t bring himself to finish his own thought. He was scared as hell to admit it to himself, let alone to Shelby.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like it’s ever stopped you before,” Shelby shrugged. “I gather your reputation as a callous, careless heartbreaker has to come from somewhere.”

Jesse didn’t know how to answer, because it was all true. And it stung like a bitch, especially because with Rachel everything had been different, was different, and he didn’t want to be that person anymore. He was starting to be ashamed of his old self—it was a weird sensation, but one he didn’t want to forego, and surely not in the way Shelby was ordering him to.

“Listen, I really don’t care about your imminent break-up with Rachel,” Shelby stated. “Just do it. And then come back here, ready to work.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have to call the UCLA Admissions Office and have them revoke your scholarship,” she answered pointedly. “You know I have pull. Good luck asking your father for the money.”

Jesse was dumbfounded. No way in hell his father was going to give him a penny, let alone pay for his entire tuition. He wanted to say something, but the anger and dread he was feeling seemed to be an insurmountable obstacle for his voice.

This is practically blackmail, Jesse thought, annoyed. However, a part of his brain was more worried about disappointing yet another important adult in his life than about anything else. He hated Shelby for manipulating him and Rachel and the whole situation, but he was determined to not be looked at as ‘a failed project’ by anyone else. His family was already enough.

Lost in his thoughts, Jesse was beginning to hate himself as well, because he was actually considering going along with Shelby’s request. He couldn’t ask his family for money, and he couldn’t imagine not going to UCLA after boasting so much about it. In all honesty, he also couldn’t bear the thought of not winning his last national title as a senior; and God knows New Directions were not even close to being victory material, even with him as a member. Besides, no one liked him there or ever listened to him, even though they could really use his advice.

The thought of helming a great number and raising another national trophy was more and more appealing with every passing minute—and with that the certainty of actually being worth all the fuss, regardless of what his father always told him, and the confirmation his self-confidence (arrogance?) was not misplaced. The voice in his head (a voice that sounded painfully like Rachel’s) kept telling him he was reverting to his old dickish ways, but… well, he’d been suppressing that particular thought for a very long time.

After a while, Jesse lifted his head, his eyes meeting Shelby’s. He clenched his jaw, then nodded stiffly.

Shelby relaxed, and started gathering her things. “Good boy. Now, I want this break up with Rachel and with New Directions to be grand—there has to be no doubt that you have closed that door. Squash their morale, too, for good measure.” She shouldered her bag and started walking towards the exit. Then she turned around and added, almost as an afterthought: “I put Giselle in charge of the whole thing, by the way. Apparently, she already has some brilliant ideas or whatever. I don’t care what you do, just do it well. See you on Friday,” she said, before disappearing out the door.

Jesse sighed, and picked up his bag from the floor. Anger was still simmering somewhere in his guts, but it was being silenced by a wave of uneasiness and by a dull and persistent heartache. He grabbed his phone to check his notifications, and saw that Giselle had already written him a string of messages. He read them, purposefully ignoring the texts he’d received from Rachel in the meantime.

Jesse St. James, as I live and breathe. Ms Corcoran told me you’re coming back and let me tell you, fi.na.lly.  

Anyway, I’ve already started planning a couple of fun things to remind those losers who the superior show choir is

Tomorrow be here sharp and ready cause we start rehearsing

Also there’s gonna be something special just for your girlfriend – we’re not comfortable with you simply breaking up with her. It has to be hard and memorable,, you’ve already played mole before and we’re not willing to risk it

Stay tuned for that (and remember it’s a deal breaker if you want us to back you up as lead ever again)

Jesse groaned, already dreading whatever the hell was coming. He tried to suppress the shame he felt by imagining himself holding a fourth national trophy (which was easy) and trying not to think about Rachel (which was very, very hard).

He spent the drive home furiously wiping the tears off his cheeks.

[debbielouocean]

jen can be civil, she’s just historically chosen not to be

jen harding/judy hale (also on ao3)

@clearrx7 had mentioned something like this here and claimed she wanted it to magically appear and since i couldn’t get it out of my head due to ‘oh fuck yeah i’d love to see eleanor get yelled at’, i decided that making it magically appear was my new job (additionally- this takes place sometime after the end of season two but there was no car accident and they never found steve’s body) 

Jen wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself wrangled into this situation, but that was almost always the case where Judy was involved. When she’d heard Judy was going to drive an hour out of the city to a women’s prison to pick up her mother, who had just gotten released, Jen had just… offered to drive her. Like she was involved, somehow. 

Jen waited in the car while Judy walked inside. She’d wanted to go in with her, but had decided against even suggesting it because being this close to a prison was still terrifying for her. She didn’t need a sneak peak of what was surely still her future, certain that karma was going to catch up with her eventually. 

Fucking ‘karma’, Jen thought, I have got to stop absorbing everything Judy says. 

It felt like an eternity before Jen finally saw Judy walking out, trailing a few feet behind an older woman that Jen didn’t recognize but figured must be Eleanor Hale. She looked like Judy. God, she, like, really looked like Judy. Jen briefly wondered what Judy’s father might have looked like for Eleanor to have ended up with basically a cloned child. And then she saw Judy pointing towards her car and she sunk down in the seat a bit like she was hiding. Trying to pretend like she hadn’t been watching them walk out. 

“Just tell me where you’re staying and I’ll drop you off,” Jen said, frowning. She’d only known this woman for ten minutes and she was already pretty close to kicking her out of the car. Her sickly sweet voice was grating on Jen’s nerves. 

Eleanor looked up at Jen like she’d entirely forgotten she was even in the car. She flashed Jen a disingenuous smile,“Oh! Just drop me at Judy’s house. I told the parole board I’d be staying with her.” 

Jen almost wrecked the fucking car. “You can’t be serious-” 

“Mom, you didn’t!” Judy said, anxiety written all over her face. “I don’t have a house!” 

Jen had to bite her tongue to keep from reminding Judy that yes, in fact she did have a house. Because that so was not the point here. 

“You’re not still living in a car, are you? For god’s sake, Judy, you’re nearly forty.” Eleanor made a face, like she hadn’t lived in a car herself for the first ten years of Judy’s life. 

“She’s forty-two,” Jen said, her face scrunching up in angry confusion. How the hell did this woman not even know how old Judy was? She was the one who’d fucking given birth to her! Jen saw Judy reach across the center console, clearly about to try to calm Jen, but she pulled her hand back before she even actually touched her. Which only served to confuse Jen more. 

“I am actually forty-two,” Judy confirmed, looking a bit ashamed of herself. Jen had to struggle to keep her eyes on the road when all she really wanted to do was stare Judy down until she could figure out why she was being extra weird. And why her mother was such a cunt. “Also, I don’t live in my car. I live with Jen. So you really should have run that one by me before you told them that because it isn’t entirely my call, Mom.” 

Eleanor cleared her throat, changing tactics fast. That fake sweet voice rolling back in to take over. “Well, I’m sure Jen won’t just kick me out on the street.” 

She actually even had the audacity to laugh at the end of that ridiculous fucking sentence. Like it was the most absurd thought in the world that Jen wouldn’t let her stay with them. Like Jen hadn’t heard everything about the cool, fun thirteen years of emotional abuse that Judy got to experience at her hands. 

But Judy was looking at her, a silent plea written on her face. Jen couldn’t quite tell if Judy was asking her to say yes or no. She shot Judy a look, hoping she could read the conflict on her face. Because she couldn’t make it any clearer, not when she knew Eleanor was watching their faces in the rearview mirror. 

And she had to make a decision. The decision that was best for Judy was obviously to tell Eleanor that she could live in a cardboard box below an overpass for all she fucking cared. But the decision she was almost certain Judy wanted her to make was to let this woman into their home. So Jen ground her teeth together and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and nodded. 

“It’ll just be for a little bit,” Judy said, glancing anxiously between her mother in the backseat and Jen. Like she could tell that they were a volatile combination that was going to explode at any minute. “Just until we can find her somewhere a bit more permanent.” 

“I wouldn’t want to put you out for too long,” Eleanor said. 

I’m about to put you out, lady. Jen glanced at the GPS, wondering how much fucking longer she’d have to be trapped in this car. 

Eleanor had moved into the guest house with Judy. Which Jen figured would be fine, because Judy was basically living in Jen’s room anyway. Or at least, she had been until Eleanor arrived. But she’d very conspicuously started sleeping in the spare bedroom down the hall, as if that was ever even an option they’d discussed. 

Jen had been avoiding Eleanor for the three days that she’d been with them thus far. While also managing to print off about a dozen short-term rental listings and tape them to the guest house door. Judy had very politely asked her to stop doing that when she found out. 

The palpable tension in the house came to a head at breakfast on the fourth morning. When Jen had walked down the stairs in her pajamas and found Eleanor sitting at the kitchen island with Henry. Just acting like she was supposed to be there. And Jen was livid. 

“Hey.” Judy came up behind her, a gentle hand on her shoulder. Jen could see the understanding in her eyes and the unspoken apology for putting them into this situation. Even though she really didn’t have to apologize for any of it. Jen wouldn’t have allowed her to verbalize an apology, not when it wasn’t her fault. 

“Hey,” Jen mumbled back, still glaring at Eleanor. She managed to pry her eyes away for long enough to look at Judy. Who looked… fucking rough. She had dark circles underneath her eyes and was wearing sweatpants. Jen didn’t even know she owned sweatpants. 

Judy must have noticed her staring at her legs. “Oh! I borrowed your sweatpants. I hope you don't mind.” 

“Uh… nope, don’t mind at all,” Jen said, holding back a comment about how tired Judy looked. That was definitely a conversation for them to have in private. Her worry for Judy almost overshadowed the issue of the abusive cunt sitting in her kitchen with her ten year old son. 

Almost. 

“Morning, boop,” Jen said, a smile plastered on her face for Henry’s sake. “Don’t you need to go finish your homework before Shandy comes over later?” 

Henry looked up, halfway to bringing a spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I’ve only got a little bit left.” 

“Why don’t you take the rest of your breakfast upstairs and finish it up?” 

“I can eat in my room?” Henry asked in confusion. “Since when?” 

“Since right now,” Jen said, gesturing towards the stairs. “Homework. Go.” 

“Good morning-” Eleanor started to say, but Jen cut her off as soon as Henry was out of hearing range. 

“You’ve certainly made yourself at home.” Jen put her hands on the back of the barstool Henry had left vacant, purposefully towering over the seated woman. See if she fucking likes it, Jen thought as Eleanor flinched backwards from the vitriol in Jen’s voice. “How did you even fucking get in here?” 

Jen was certain she’d locked the patio doors the night before. And she damn well knew she hadn’t given Eleanor a key. 

“Henry opened the door for me,” Eleanor said, grinning as she stood up to full height, taller than Jen. “He’s such a sweet kid. Now that other one, though-”

“Don’t talk to me about my kids,” Jen growled, turning away from the other woman. She swiped Henry’s half-full glass of orange juice off the table and walked off. She headed back towards the stairs to go check on Henry and apologize for sending him to his room when he’d done nothing wrong. If she stayed down here for another minute she was going to do something she’d regret. 

But she stopped at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Eleanor speaking to Judy.  And she couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“I don’t see how you live with that, Judy,” Eleanor said. Jen rolled her eyes, over the dramatics of having this woman in her house. She was worse than fucking Lorna. 

“Jen’s not usually… she’s just frustrated, Mom,” Judy said, sighing. Jen could hear the water in the sink turn on and the sound of Judy loading the dishwasher with last night’s dishes. 

“She obviously doesn’t want me here. You don’t have to pretend otherwise for my sake. She’s certainly not making the same effort.” Eleanor laughed bitterly. “Easy to understand why she’d feel that way.” 

Jen’s brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t thought Eleanor was… self-aware. 

Judy didn’t respond, and Eleanor kept talking. 

“You’ve finally got someone in this house to look out for you, honey. She knows I’m not gonna put up with her treating you like shit in front of me.” 

“What?” Judy said, echoing Jen’s exact thoughts on the matter. Well. Jen’s thoughts had a few more expletives. 

She heard Eleanor sigh, like she was taking pity on Judy. “It’s not hard to see what’s going on here. I’ve only been here a few days and I can already tell that woman’s not good for you. She just wants me to leave so she can go back to how it was before.” 

“That’s not-” 

Eleanor’s voice was soft. Jen could hear the conniving in it, wondering what fucking line she was about to throw at her daughter. “You don’t have to hide it from me, Judy Ann. If she’s hurting you-” 

Jen heard glass shatter and it took her a second to realize that it was her who’d caused it. The glass of orange juice slipping from her hand without her notice. She was shocked Eleanor would even suggest- 

“Jen?” Judy rounded the corner, concern in her voice. “Are you alright? What happened?” 

Eleanor was right behind her. Looking so fucking smug that Jen wanted to pick up the shattered glass and just- 

“Let me get a towel,” Judy said, quickly rushing to the stairs towards the linen closet. 

Jen stepped over the broken glass and made a beeline for Eleanor. She was inches from her face with a finger pointed directly at the other woman’s nose before Judy even made it to the second step. 

“If you ever fucking insinuate that I would fucking hurt Judy, I’ll put you in the fucking ground,” Jen said, anger coursing through her veins. She knew Judy was saying something behind her, but she just couldn’t hear her over the blood pounding in her ears. “And fucking trust me when I tell you that they will never fucking find your pathetic corpse, you motherfucking-” 

Judy had a hand on both of her arms, pulling her away from Eleanor. Jen batted her away, trying very hard not to shove her, not to do anything that might make Eleanor think she’d ever put a hand on Judy. 

“Jen, calm down,” Judy whispered in a panic. Her voice came out like a hiss, so quiet that Jen almost didn’t hear it. There was a begging tone to it that Jen did not care for. “The boys are just upstairs, Jen.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Judy, she can’t just-” 

“You just have to be in control of every little thing that happens in this house, don’t you?” Eleanor said in that grating self-satisfied voice. “I can’t have one conversation with my daughter without you flying into a rage over something that has nothing to do with you.” 

“Nothing to fucking do with me?” Jen yelled back, ripping her arm out of Judy’s grasp. “I’m not gonna let some piece of shit stand in my fucking kitchen and make accusations that I- that I would ever-” 

Eleanor just rolled her eyes at Jen. Like she was a toddler throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. And then she was just fucking walking away like she was the bigger person. 

“Judy Ann, I’ll be in my room if you’d like to speak to me,” she said, ignoring that Jen was still on the verge of murder. Walking right back through Jen’s kitchen and out to Jen’s guesthouse that she was very fucking graciously letting her stay in. 

“I never thought premeditated murder would be for me, but I swear to fucking god, Judy, I’m gonna kill her,” Jen muttered under her breath, hyperaware of how loud she’d been a few moments before. She turned around to look at the other woman. 

Judy was shaking. Standing there in the entryway in Jen’s too-big sweatpants, she looked smaller than Jen had ever seen her before. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Judy said, her hands clasped at her chest. She didn’t sound like she was angry at Jen for having gone off on Eleanor, though. 

“Trust me, it wasn’t a burden,” Jen said carefully, slowly coming over to Judy and pulling her into a hug; Judy’s hand pressing against Jen’s chest. Jen sighed, willing herself to get it to-fucking-gether because Judy needed her calm more than she needed her angry. She brushed Judy’s hair out of her face with her fingers, trying for soothing but probably failing as her fingers got stuck on tangles. She wondered if Judy had even bothered to brush her hair that morning, given that she clearly hadn’t bothered with much else in terms of self-care. 

“I’m sorry she’s here,” Judy said, pulling her hands out from between them to rub at her own eyes. “Everything was finally good and then I invite a fucking monster into our house.” 

 ‘Our house’ coming out of Judy’s mouth hit Jen like a truck, but she put it aside for the moment, trying to focus on Judy and not on whatever the hell that emotion had been. 

“She invited herself here,” Jen reminded her, “It’s not your fault, Judy, you were just trying to… do the right thing, or some bullshit. Not that it’s bullshit. It’s really sweet, actually.” 

“It’s really sweet that I let her walk all over me?” Judy asked in disbelief. “Didn’t you tell me I needed to say ‘no’ more?” 

“Well, yeah,” Jen said, “but I don’t think you’d still be Judy if you didn’t always try too hard to help people.” 

Judy pulled herself out of the hug, but stayed close enough that Jen could keep a hand on her arm. 

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Judy said, somehow sounding both hesitant and confident at the same time. 

“Do you want backup?” Jen asked, already feeling that even though she really did not want Judy to have to face her mother alone, Judy probably should. And Jen could always go back and yell at her later if she tried to pull some shit. 

Judy shook her head with a choked laugh. “I don’t think I’d be able to get a word in edgewise with you two in the same room.” 

“Hey, I can be civil. I’ve just historically chosen not to be,” Jen said in mock offense. But she sighed, admitting to herself that Judy was right. Going out there with her would result in a second screaming match and she still did need to go upstairs and check on Henry. Jen said as much before trudging up the stairs into what she was certain was going to be a fun conversation with a ten year old. 

Jen wasn’t sure what Judy had said to her mother. And Judy had been kind of vague about the whole thing. But Jen also couldn’t really bring herself to care as she watched Eleanor put herself into an uber not even three days later. 

Eleanor had spent the last three days camped out in the guesthouse before coming in and announcing that Judy had found her an apartment and she’d be leaving that afternoon. As if anyone would miss her. 

But as Jen stood on her front porch, she realized that someone would miss her. Or at least, Judy would miss the idea of her. The idea that her mother might improve and they could have something akin to a normal relationship. Sending her away meant that Judy was having to come to terms with that never having been a realistic idea. 

Judy was helping Eleanor with her bags, putting them in the trunk of the car. Jen saw Judy reach out for a hug. Saw Eleanor turn away from it as if she hadn’t seen it at all before getting into the passenger’s seat. 

The car pulled away and Judy walked back to join Jen on the porch, a strangely peaceful look on her face. 

“I’m sorry, Judy. I know you wanted better from her,” Jen said, letting Judy lean into her side. “But I’m proud of you for not letting her drag you back into her bullshit.” 

“Well,” Judy said, dragging the word out and grimacing apologetically. “I did pay the deposit and first month’s rent on the apartment. And co-sign the lease. And call the uber. I don’t know if I would say I completely avoided being dragged back into it.” 

“Judy!” 

“She was in prison, Jen. Her credit score is not great,” Judy said, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Jen rolled her eyes with no real malice behind it. 

“Whatever gets her out of the guesthouse, I guess,” she muttered, knowing it would take a lot more than one conversation to fully get Judy disentangled from this woman again. But something else was still nagging at the back of her mind. 

“Does this mean that you’re gonna move back out there, then?” Jen asked. Judy jerked her head towards Jen in confusion. 

“Do you want me to?” Judy looked hurt, and she obviously hadn’t even considered doing such a thing. 

“I just- fuck, of course not,” Jen said, wishing she’d kept her dumb fucking mouth shut and just let things be for once. “I just don’t understand why you moved into the guest room of all places. That’s the worst fucking room in the house.” 

“I didn’t want to stay in the guesthouse with my mother,” Judy said, once again using that ‘isn’t it obvious, Jen?’ tone that didn’t make any fucking sense to her. 

“You weren’t, though?” Jen said, confusion adding a questioning uptick to her statement. “You were… you just said… Judy you weren’t living in the guest house before she got here. You literally just admitted that.” 

“I wasn’t,” Judy said tentatively. “But I also wasn’t really living in the main house, either, Jen. We never really talked about where I was living. And I didn’t want to assume… and then my mom assumed that- well, she said that, we could share the guesthouse. And I didn’t want to tell her that I hadn’t actually been… sleeping there. For a while.” 

“Oh.” 

“Not that there’s anything like, wrong with that,” Judy was quick to amend. “Because you’re my best friend, Jen and we’re adults and we can do whatever we want. But also, like, you kind of never really... mentioned… that that was, like… what you wanted?” 

“Do you think I would have tolerated you stealing my blankets every single fucking night if I didn’t want you there, Judy?” Jen asked, wondering how she’d ever not made it clear that she wanted Judy there. Every night. Probably for the rest of forever. 

“Oh. Good, then,” Judy said, nodding. “Your guest room really kind of sucks, Jen.” 

“That’s intentional. I decorated with Lorna in mind.” 

Jen relaxed a bit when Judy laughed, the hard and confusing part of the conversation over. For today, at least. Jen knew they’d have to come back to it. 

“We should celebrate!” Judy exclaimed all of a sudden. “A great evil has been purged from this household.” 

Jen laughed with her, following her inside to gather the boys up so they could discuss dinner plans. 

They were laying in bed together later that week, Jen scrolling through Facebook on her laptop and Judy reading a beach novel, when Jen decided to bring it up again. 

Shutting her laptop, she shifted a bit so she was facing Judy, who glanced up at Jen with a smile before going back to her book. She looked better. Calmer. And Jen’s sweatpants had yet to make a reappearance in Judy’s normally put-together wardrobe. 

“See something you like?” Judy asked playfully without looking up from the page. 

“Yeah, but you just had to open your mouth and ruin it,” Jen shot back. It was comfortable, having Judy around. They had gotten themselves into such a fucking domestic routine that it almost made Jen sick. 

But it made her sicker to know she was about to burst their little bubble. “I’ve been thinking.” 

“Dangerous business,” Judy said, smirking. 

“You never really told me what happened with your mom,” Jen said, regretting the words the minute they were out of her mouth. But she couldn’t keep fighting back the thought that she’d made Judy pick a fight she hadn’t been ready for. And that Judy had just gone with the easier option of kicking Eleanor out because it had been what Jen wanted. 

“I told you,” Judy said, finally closing her book and sitting it on the nightstand. “She was negligent and addicted to drugs and I testified against her and it was all a huge fucking mess-”

“Last week, Judy. What happened with your mom last week.” 

“She got an apartment?” Judy said, tilting her head in confusion. “You were there, Jen.” 

Jen sighed, hating that she was having to drag this out. But god, she needed to fucking know. “Did you tell her to leave or did she make that decision on her own?” 

Judy hesitated, trying to read something on Jen’s face. “It was a… mutual decision.” 

Jen was sure her face showed her disbelief because Judy was quick to retract. 

“I told her to leave.” 

“You didn’t have to do that f you didn’t want to, Judy,” Jen said, thinking hard about how she’d made it pretty fucking difficult for Judy to do anything besides that. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to kick her out.” 

“No, no, you didn’t.” Judy’s hand came to rest on Jen’s knee, comforting in a way Jen wasn’t sure she deserved. “I didn’t disagree with you about her staying here. I just… you know I’m very non-confrontational. But then she was saying all this horrible stuff about you and I just fucking let her have, Jen.” 

“I would have paid to have seen that,” Jen said, eyes going wide at the thought of Judy defending her from Eleanor. She put her hand on top of Judy’s, rubbing her thumb across the back of it. “Thank you.” 

“I wasn’t just gonna let her talk about you like that,” Judy scoffed, like the very idea was unthinkable. “I told her to get out if she wasn’t going to be nice to my family.” 

“Fuck, Judy,” Jen said, quickly looking up at the ceiling and pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, “I told you you’re not allowed to make me cry after 9 p.m.” 

Judy smiled, reaching up to pull Jen’s hands away from her eyes. “You also told me I’m not allowed to make you cry after 9 a.m.” 

“There’s a twenty minute window right after 7 a.m. where I’m fine with it,” Jen said, still blinking her eyes up at the ceiling even though Judy was looking right at her like that. Because Judy had defended her and called her family and stood up to her mother for her and ugh, fucking hell, she couldn’t manage her emotions. 

“You’re usually asleep at 7 a.m. I’m supposed to wake you up so that I can make you cry?” 

“If you think you can live with yourself after that,” Jen said, taking a deep breath to stop herself from sniffling and finally looking Judy in the eye. 

“I really don’t think I could,” Judy admitted. “That’s a pretty airtight emotion-avoidance system you got there.” 

“It’s obviously working.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

“I haven’t had an emotion in years.” 

Judy smiled at her softly before reaching over to turn out the light on the bedside table. Jen let Judy curl herself around her, Jen’s arm wrapped around her waist. 

“I think you have a lot of emotions,” Judy whispered into her ear in the dark. 

Jen frowned in the dark, wondering how much Judy knew about her fucking emotions. “Go to sleep, Jude.” 

“Okay. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Jen mumbled, closing her eyes and falling asleep with Judy in her arms. In their house. In their bed.  

[odanurr87]

2019: My year in K-Dramas - Part 2

And we’re back! So, um, yeah, this took a lot longer than I imagined at first, but the truth is I was also dealing with coursework and other projects. As a result, I decided to break this last post into two, so instead of 6 shows in 1 post, you get 6 shows across 2 posts, building anticipation like a kdrama! And, I mean, two of those shows are My Love from the Star and Descendants of the Sun... Those two powerhouses deserve a bit more attention, maybe a couple of rewatches. Anyway, let’s get this show on the road!

WARNING! I’ve purposefully kept any big spoilers out of this post but some light spoilers may remain. Proceed with caution.

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When the Camellia Blooms (2019)

Gong Hyo-Jin as Oh Dong-Baek and Kang Ha-Neul as Hwang Yong-Sik.

Release Date: September 18 - November 21, 2019

Episodes: 20

Available on: Netflix

Summary: Dong-Baek is a single mother who moves to the town of Ongsan to open up a bar, the Camellia, while trying to raise her son, Pil-Gu. Six years later, Yong-Sik, a police officer and the youngest son of Dong-Baek’s only friend in Ongsan, returns and is instantly smitten by her. Yong-Sik is determined to woo her but Dong-Baek is also equally determined to resist his advances at first, a situation that is further complicated by the sudden reappearance of Dong-Baek’s ex and Pil-Gu’s biological father, Kang Jong-Ryul, who tries to win her back. When a serial killer known as Joker resurfaces after years of inactivity threatening to go after Dong-Baek, Yong-Sik launches an investigation to catch the elusive Joker once and for all.

What I liked:

The down-to-earth feel of the show. Save for the murder mystery element of the show, When the Camellia Blooms is pretty down-to-earth, depicting characters that could very much exist in our neighbourhood and exploring problems related to everyday life. How many kdramas show the struggles of a single mom trying to handle a love life while raising her son? I bet there are not a lot of them, and the only similar one I’ve watched, and would recommend, is One Spring Night, that depicts the life of a single dad balancing a romantic relationship while raising his son (it’s probably a more realistic representation all around down even to side characters). Even Yong-Sik is not the idealized male protagonist that most kdramas favour, at one point referred to as a “country bumpkin” by Dong-Baek’s ex, and while he may come across as rather simple-minded, he’s also refreshingly honest, determined (both in his pursuit of Dong-Baek and Joker), hard-working, and always there when the chips fall. While Dong-Baek’s ex is an ass for the majority of the show, I appreciated his inclusion because it clearly showed the contrast between the two characters vying for Dong-Baek’s affections: the man who pities her, and the man who encourages her; the man who’s ashamed of how she’s living her life, and the man who’s proud of what she has accomplished; the man who loves his memory of her, and the man who loves her as she is now; her past, and her present. Which one of the two will become her future?

The supporting cast. I am going to put them all together in the same bag as I don’t think anyone was particularly outstanding, but they all contributed to making this show a most entertaining watch from beginning to end: from Yong-Sik’s superior and chief of police, Byun Bae-Soo (played by Jeon Bae-Soo), through the simple-minded landlord with political aspirations, Noh Gyu-Tae (played by Oh Jung-Se), his cunning wife and ace attorney, Hong Ja-Young (played by Yeom Hye-Rae), to Dong-Baek’s kleptomaniac friend, Choi Hyang-Mi (played by Son Dam-Bi). At one point I even became more interested in the relationship between the characters of Gyu-Tae and Ja-Young, so strong were their performances. And I couldn’t help but feel sad for Hyang-Mi despite her many opportunistic deeds, a character who’s had a life as unforgiving as Dong-Baek, especially when we learn the reason behind some of her actions, and happy for her when she realises family isn’t always blood and ultimately chooses to walk a path of redemption. Sure wish we had seen more of that. You could make the case that Gyu-Tae and Hyang-Mi are the best out of the supporting cast, perhaps because of how much their characters grow over the course of the show.

What I didn’t like:

How the murder-mystery was handled/resolved. The first episode starts with the murder of an unknown person at some unspecified point in the future, a typical enough hook. We’re shown that person is someone who Yong-Sik apparently knew and cared for, but even when later episodes extend that scene frame by frame, tempting the audience to participate in this game of whodunit, the identity is only allowed to be revealed when the series catches up to that moment. The murder mystery element is sprinkled throughout the series as Yong-Sik is intent on protecting Dong-Baek and catching the serial killer Joker. But this isn’t Broadchurch, where the entire show revolves around solving the murder mystery and seeing its effects on the people of the small town of Dorset. No, in a way, the murder mystery in When the Camellia Blooms feels like a strategy, designed so that when the real goal of the show is revealed, the exploration of motherhood, you’ll be too invested to back out. One could argue the same for the romance between Dong-Baek and Yong-Sik. As a result, the murder-mystery feels drawn out and starts losing some of its steam as we approach the final episodes. Involving Dong-Baek’s mother in the whole affair was oddly convenient but felt out of place and worked against the show. Here we have a woman who knows, or thinks she knows, who the killer is several episodes before the end, and not only does she not tell the police about it but she actually confronts the killer. In any other show, the outcome would have been inevitable: the woman is murdered, leaving the police another clue as to who might have done it. However, since the show has already planned a happy ending for this character, she can’t be killed (incidentally, this happens with another character as well), even if the show later tries to toy with our feelings by suggesting she’s dead (not because of Joker though). The reveal of the culprit’s identity was a letdown, not only because the writers showed their hand early on but because we were never really given good suspects to begin with, and in a murder mystery that’s essential. Yes, we’re given a good pool of suspects for Joker’s latest victim, but since we also know Joker killed other people and is targeting Dong-Baek, not to mention the tone and themes of the show, we can readily eliminate almost all of them. They could’ve toyed around with the idea of a copycat, killing a person and pinning it on Joker, but they didn’t. And don’t get me started on how they finally catch Joker, this dreaded serial killer who had managed to avoid capture for years but turned out be to a bit of a joke, pun intended.

How insufferable Pil-Gu became towards the end. To be fair, I blame the adults (and writers) in this show more than I do Pil-Gu. I had no qualms about how his character had been handled for most of the show, but then along came Episode 17, where the writers decided to amp the drama to 11 just for the sake of it, a trope I really don’t like. Basically, through a series of misunderstandings that no adult feels compelled to clear up, Pil-Gu throws a tantrum, accusing her mother of not loving him anymore, and why does she need to get married, and why can’t she live alone with him for the rest of her life, etc., etc., forgetting it was Pil-Gu who, earlier that episode, had asked Yong-Sik to stay at their home and protect his mom. Like I said, nobody even bothers to explain the situation to him (even though he’s shown to be pretty smart and should’ve probably figured it out himself) and, worse, Dong-Baek plays along and decides to break up with Yong-Sik, determined never to love anyone other than Pil-Gu for the rest of her life. Jesus. As if wanting to twist the knife further, Episode 18 ends with a grown-up Pil-Gu, a jarring and decidedly out-of-place transition, suggesting he grew up to be a fine man as a result of her mom’s decision, but anyone who’s ever watched a kdrama knows better than that: you’re just padding out events for the sake of drama and this show didn’t need that. At this point, I lost whatever appreciation I might have had for the character of Pil-Gu and was half rooting for Yong-Sik to be promoted and get his ass back to Seoul ASAP, never to return to Ongsan again.

The existence of Episode 18. Yes, this is the episode where Dong-Baek and Yong-Sik break up, but that’s not what I’m getting at as I discussed that point previously. Episode 18 also sees Pil-Gu suddenly want to live with his biological father out of a misunderstanding (so many misunderstandings in these last few episodes!) and Kang Jong-Ryul try to act as that father to him. It’s clear he’s out of his depth with Pil-Gu, but he seems to be trying so it feels jarring when Dong-Baek returns for Pil-Gu and punches him in the face. Look, Jong-Ryul has been a bit of an ass throughout so he has more than earned that punch but not in this context. The show immediately kicks in the music that depicts this as a moment of triumph and personal growth for Dong-Baek but I kept thinking, “The one time this dude is actually trying to step up to the plate, assuming his responsibilities as a father, and he gets punched for it? Sure, he’s not that great but he’s only had Pil-Gu for, what, a week? Less? And it’s not like he kidnapped him or anything. This doesn’t even make sense.” And what growth are we talking about when she immediately caters to the whims of a kid and breaks up with Yong-Sik? Who is the adult in this relationship? Are there any adults in this show? There’s a decidedly marked absence of fathers, and those there are aren’t shown in a very good light but that’s another matter. Episode 18 is, quite simply, an episode that shouldn’t exist as it really brings nothing to the table and only pads out the inevitable.

OTP: While not my #1 pick amongst the shows I watched in 2019, it was refreshingly different, with the show slowly building their relationship in spite of Yong-Sik’s relentless attempts to woo Dong-Baek. In any other show, such determination could’ve come across as annoying, perhaps bordering on harassment, but this is mitigated by Yong-Sik’s sincere personality, his active listening of Dong-Baek’s problems, his support and encouragement of her, and ultimately his respect of the boundaries set by Dong-Baek, a woman who is not accustomed to such repeated shows of affection and is ill-equipped to handle them. It was very rewarding to see her evolution as a character, finding the confidence to grow out of her shell, even if there were some flaws in the journey.

Verdict: While the show trips a little at the end it was a solid watch, and I could see myself returning to it every once in a while because of its mundane (and I’m using this word as a compliment here) aspects. It doesn’t hurt it has some good humour in between all the crying. Oh, yes, there’s a reason why I chose that particular gif to represent the relationship between Yong-Sik and Dong-Baek.

Rewatch meter: I’m going to cheat and say it’s Medium-to-High.

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Bring it on, ghost (2016)

Kim So-Hyun as Kim Hyun-Ji, and Ok Taec-Yeon as Park Bong-Pal.

Release Date: July 11 - August 30, 2016

Episodes: 16

Available on: Netflix, Viki

Summary: Park Bong-Pal is a 2nd year Economics student with a side job as an exorcist due to his strange ability to see ghosts, a fact that has prevented him from having a normal life and that he deeply resents. One night, while performing an exorcism at a high school, he comes across Kim Hyun-Ji, a former high school student turned wandering spirit, who has no recollection of her past but possesses an innate talent to fight ghosts and spot their weak points. During this encounter, the two accidentally kiss, and Hyun-Ji briefly recalls some of her memories. Convinced Bong-Pal holds the key to her memories and determined to find out more, she manages to persuade a reluctant Bong-Pal to let her move in in exchange for helping him fight ghosts. But Bong-Pal soon learns that not all ghosts are evil, and some may be even cute enough to fall for.

What I liked:

Kim So-Hyun as Kim Hyun-Ji. Do I need to add anything further? That picture should be enough evidence in and of itself. Kim So-Hyun looks like she’s having a blast acting as a kickass high-school student/ghost who has a penchant for upsetting Bong-Pal and looking criminally cute while doing so. With a personality like that, it’s no wonder Bong-Pal couldn’t help but fall for her. Who wouldn’t? Perhaps what makes her character so lovable is precisely the fact that she works off of Bong-Pal’s more curt personality. As they say, opposites attract.

Lee David as Kim In-Rang and Kang Ki-Young as Choi Cheon-Sang.

The humor. I’ll admit that I miscalculated with these two in the beginning, resigning myself to having to endure their interventions in what I felt was shaping up to be an otherwise great show. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find they made for some good comic relief, especially after they convince Bong-Pal to let them handle the business side of exorcising ghosts and join him and Hyun-Ji in their nightly escapades. That sounded better in my head. The humor is never crass and, most importantly, it never outlasts its welcome. Hey, they even try to do him a solid and hitch him with his crush, but Hyun-Ji has already managed to work her magic on him unbeknownst to her. In fact, much of the show’s humor is also a credit to the comedic rapport between the characters of Bong-Pal and Hyun-Ji, especially in the earlier episodes when their different personalities are most notable, but also later on when feelings of jealousy start to surface. Their playful bickering is often reproduced in some of the background music used and is also present in some of the ghost fights as if saying, “Yeah, we’re fighting a pervert ghost in a sauna and having a blast, what of it?”

The formula. What do I mean by that? For the most part, this show works like a procedural, with Hyun-Ji and Bong-Pal fighting the ghost of the week in each successive episode, while at the same time having a multi-episodic story-arc. This is the formula used in US TV shows: introduce an interesting story-arc in the first few episodes, then forget all about it until the final episodes of the season, with filler episodes in between. The difference being Bring it on, Ghost is actually a good procedural: there are no filler episodes, every ghost fight serves a purpose, whether it be to develop our protagonists (at times providing interesting backstory) or to strengthen their bond, and the main story-arc is always subtly running in the background until the paths of our protagonists and villain cross and events come to a head. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, US TV shows should seriously consider having shorter and tighter seasons, as their quality suffers otherwise. Bong Pal and Hyun-Ji’s ghost fights will also sometimes include moral or life lessons that flow naturally and never feel forced; nobody’s beating you over the head with them and shouting, “DO YOU GET IT NOW?!” As you can imagine, they’re certainly more subtle than US TV shows, but then again kdramas seem to have mastered the art of telling a lot without actually saying it, something others could learn from.

What I didn’t like:

The amnesia trope. Look, before you say anything, I understand why it’s there, sorta, it’s a reversal of Kim Hyun-Ji’s clinginess (that is an actual word) to Bong-Pal, if for different reasons. I don’t mind that it happened, but what I do mind is that it’s never reversed, making it somewhat difficult to believe that she’d fall for a stranger in what appears to be a very short amount of time. You could argue she’s unconsciouscly attracted to him given their past connection, and the show does at one point suggest that she may be regaining her memories, or that it’s possible at least, but nothing comes of it. This sudden bout of amnesia also offers her temporary protection from the villain, but at the end of the day I am left thinking that the show could’ve done without it or reverse it at the very end.

OTP:  It’s a team effort, but Kim So-Hyun kills it!

Verdict: An infinitely rewatchable show with an all-around solid cast and great sense of humor. Like Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon, this show is sure to put a smile on your face if you’re feeling down or if you simply want to have a good time.

Rewatch meter: High

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One More Time (2016)

Kim Myung Soo as Yoo Tan, and Yoon So-Hee as Moon Da-In.

Release Date: October 26 - December 14, 2016

Episodes: 8

Available on: Netflix

Summary: Yoo Tan is the lead singer of an indie band called One More Time, together with his girlfriend, Moon Da-In, and his childhood friends. However, with bills mounting and his hopes for success dwindling, his relationships take a turn for the worse. When he’s offered to sign a contract with a music label, Yoo Tan sees his long-awaited chance and decides to burn all bridges to his past life, but an unexpected event that forces him to constantly relive the past twenty-four hours makes him reconsider his outlook on life.

What I liked:

The concept. The idea of being stuck in a time loop is not a particularly new one, with Groundhog Day being the most obvious, and highly entertaining, exponent, although I do remember an episode of Stargate SG-1 called “Window of Opportunity” that exploited the same concept, if to a different effect. As in Groundhog Day, One More Time uses this idea as a vehicle of self-reflection for the main character, transforming him from a bitter, selfish, and somewhat egocentric person, to someone far more likable, who recognises the value in the friendships he has forged and rediscovers the love he holds for the woman who has always been there for him. But this is only the prelude to our story as One More Time extends this concept by providing a reason for the time loop: tying it to Moon Da-In’s life, or death. In Groundhog Day, Bill Murray’s character, Phil, is eventually confronted by the fact that, for all the things he can do as a result of the day resetting, he cannot prevent death no matter how hard he tries. This is a sobering moment for our main character. However, Yoo Tan goes through an even more harrowing crucible, as the person whose death he seemingly cannot prevent is his girlfriend, Da-In. Thus, the series shows us Yoo Tan’s many attempts to save her while delving into Da-In’s past. Will he succeed and get a second chance at a life with Da-In? I guess you’ll have to watch the show for that.

The songs. With a running time of 240 minutes, give or take, don’t expect a large soundtrack (compared to most kdramas), but I believe that is something that actually works in the show’s favour, as the songs are always used to highlight a given context, thus engraving them in your mind and rendering them memorable. I don’t really know how to explain it, and I blame my musical illiteracy. Sadly, the powers that be didn’t think that such a short web series was worthy of having a physical or even digital soundtrack release, what made finding any trace of these songs rather difficult for the past few years. Fortunately, one of the composers and singer, known as ODD, has recently released some tracks on her YouTube channel. These are: ‘Moonlight,’ ‘Birds,’ ‘Without you,’ and ‘In this night.’ While ‘Moonlight’ is my personal favourite, all four tracks are entirely deserving of being released, at least on Spotify so I can listen to them over and over again. With Spotify apparently coming to South Korea this year, that may yet be the case. There is also the main song, ‘One More Time,’ sang by none other than Kim Myung Soo himself in perhaps the most emotional scene in the drama, but it still remains elusive.

The leads and their chemistry. I had absolutely no trouble believing these two were in love with their longing stares and beautiful smiles. Kim Myung Soo and Yoon So-Hee did an incredible job (and the writers too, obviously) selling me on their relationship in such a short amount of time. At every point in the show I could understand where the characters were coming from, how much they cared for one another, and why they’d go to great lengths to protect their better half. Yes, they go through a rough patch at the beginning of the show, but that only makes it feel more real and it’s a necessary stepping stone in Yoo Tan’s character arc. I also really liked how the show took the time to explore Da-In’s past and see events from her perspective, highlighting just how central her character is to the plot of the story. Can’t say anymore for fear of spoilers. Really wish these two actors were to collaborate again in main roles.

Kim Ji-Young as the Grim Reaper. The way the show integrated a Grim Reaper was well thought out, and making her a child was a stroke of genius played to great comedic effect. I mean, who’d think this cute child was the embodiment of Death? Her childlike appearance is contrasted by her adult personality, and you can see she’s more than a bit fed up with troublesome humans who make her job more difficult than it already is, and she grows increasingly annoyed at a particular pair of them. I’ll let you guess who. Come to think of it, she reminds me a little of the older version of Samshin, the goddess of birth and fate, from Goblin. A great character all around without whom the show would be considerably lessened.

What I didn’t like:

Honestly, there’s really nothing that comes to mind. Sure, I could nitpick and say that some characters and storylines are dropped midway through the show, but I think it’s fair to say they had served their purpose, and trying to account for them in later episodes would’ve wasted the show’s valuable runtime. Could it have benefited from having a few more episodes? I suppose it’s possible, and I would’ve welcomed the chance to spend more time with these characters, but I believe the show was effective in telling its story across eight episodes, and any more could have placed the narrative under considerable stress. For instance, while I absolutely love Angel’s Last Mission: Love (incidentally, also starring Kim Myung Soo), one has to admit the plot was stretched longer than it needed to, and certain events do not hold up under further scrutiny.

OTP: 

There is no sadness that last for eternity. There is no love that lasts for eternity either.

I’m going to vote that there is.

Which one are you voting for? Love or sadness?

Sad love.

Verdict: They say that good things come in small doses. If so, that fits this show perfectly. It was my introduction to Kim Myung Soo, who would then go on to deliver a stronger performance in Angel’s Last Mission: Love, as well as my introduction to Yoon So-Hee, whom I’d love to see in more main roles. While delivered in a short format I’m not used to, the show’s creators made the most of it and not a single minute feels wasted. An interesting concept that benefits from some tight writing, beautiful music, solid leads, and a lovable OTP, packaged as a mini-series. What more could I want?

Rewatch meter: High

[mtvswatches]

Friends 1x12 – The One With the Dozen Lasagnas

In a nutshell: There are twelve lasagnas. Ross learns he’s having a boy. Paolo gets handsy with Phoebe. Chandler and Joey get the foosball table.  

Chandler and Joey: Chandler and Joey’s table broke and as they argue who should buy a new one, we get our first insight into how deep their romance goes. First, Chandler suggests that buying a table together might be too big a commitment – classic Chandler – while Joey freaks out when Chandler suggests one of them might move out. He gets overly jealous when Chandler mentions his previous roommate, Kip. They finally agree on buying a foosball table and eating at the sink. Chandler and Joey tell Ross he should make his move on Rachel right after she broke up with Paolo, which is terrible, awful advice.

Monica: Monica cooked a dozen lasagnas. That’s it. We also get a glimpse of Monica’s competitive and obsessive nature when they start playing foosball as she refuses to leave the guys’ apartment until they physically remove her.

Phoebe: Phoebe gets a surprise visit from Paolo at work, and while she’s doing her job – massaging him – Paolo basically assaults her. Phoebe fesses up to the gang, and Ross very over-enthusiastically suggests she should tell Rachel. While his motivation is clearly selfish, he did give her sound advice. For some reason, Phoebe thinks Rachel is going to hate her, but why would she? And how sweet of her to bring cookies before breaking the news to Rachel. I really love how she approached Rachel by admitting that they haven’t known each other that long but that friends are the most important thing in her life and that she never lies, which is sweet but… I’m calling bullshit on it. She does become more and more deceitful as the seasons progress, and we learn later on that she had lied to Monica for a very long time about living with her when she had moved out a long while ago.

Rachel: Rachel is planning a weekend away together with Paolo and wondering where her relationship with him is going since they are way past the fling stage, apparently. As Rachel is packing for her trip with Paolo, Phoebe tells her that he made a pass at her, and Rachel doesn’t take it too well. However, she never questions Phoebe nor does she blame her or believe for a second that Phoebe might have misconstrued the situation. It’s a really nice moment of sisterhood, how they trust each other and support each other and understand that there’s nothing either of them should be sorry for or ashamed of. Rachel decides she needs to take a break from men and figure out what she wants. She ends up blurting out that Ross is having a boy.

Ross: Ross has been reading up on pregnancy and you know what? That is pretty cool of him. I feel like I should apologize every time I say something nice about Ross since he has been named The Worst and there’s so much hatred towards his character. He did make a lot of mistakes, but I don’t think he’s the worst. There are plenty of good things about his character, alright? And I won’t apologize for cutting him some slack when he does something nice. I will, of course, address my issues with his character when I get to that point. Joey brings up the fact that Ross’s child might wonder why he’s not together with Carol and why Carol is living with Susan, and Friends might have done a lot of things wrong when it came to representation, but I kind of appreciate how they never made a big deal of Carol and Susan being a couple. It was just something that was. It definitely was never an issue for Ben, you know? Ben never wondered, like Joey suggested he might, why his mom lived with another woman and his dad lived somewhere else. That was just the family he was born into and that was that. Of course, after I finish writing my defense of Ross, he just purposefully let Susan, who is a vegetarian, eat Monica’s meat lasagna. Ross decides he doesn’t want to know the baby’s sex, and it becomes this whole thing where everybody but him knows. He takes the boys’ advice and decides to talk to Rachel after her break-up with Paolo, but instead of hitting on her, he sort of realizes that what she needs right then is a friend. And I say sort of, because what put him off making a move was her declaring she’s sick of guys. He finally learns that he’s having a boy and his whole freak-out kind of reminds me of the iconic scene when Emily calls and he gives Chandler a lamp. 

One Iconic Scene:

It’s not a scene per se, but if the apartments are the seventh character in the show, the foosball table is definitely the eight right?

Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

[worddevdealswithml]

The Prince’s Bride

Chapter 14: ‘She’d be ashamed of you’

After she’d almost passed out on the ground, he’d been forced to carry her under one arm, and managed to get her into one of the houses that had already been searched.

From there, he’d been able to use their cooking fire to make some soup, and had set Alya out on a low bedroll, where she’d been still until the smell of food had presumably awoken her.

“Hey, dude,” he said.

Swaying unsteadily, in a way that could potentially have ended with her going into the fire, Alya sat up.

“Where are we?”

“Haven’t gone far, just a few houses over.”

Alya sighed.  “Any word from Lila?”

He hesitated.

“Actually…”  He passed her the bowl, and a spoon, “Here’s the thing about that; I was actually working with the brute squad, and one of them was actually with what’s-his-name when he was going after Adrien.”

“Gabriel.  His name is Gabriel.”

“Right!  Well, anyway, dude was talking about how the trip, seemed really proud of it, actually…  Ah, anyway, he mentioned that they found Adrien with some pirate woman, and she’d apparently… Well she’d done what she did, y’know?  Beat you, beat me, and, I’m not kidding, turned Lila to dust.”

Alya almost choked on her soup.

“Wait.”  She twisted her nose, with the motion of someone who had gotten something in it, and looked back at him.

She looked at him, and moved her lips silently.

Nino got the impression she wasn’t sure what to ask about first.

“She beat you?”

He shrugged.  “Yeah.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised she beat Lila, but… wow.”

“Yeah, there was something about Lila using Adrien as a hostage, and she got poisoned, or something, but…  Yeah, I don’t know.  Oh.”

“Oh…”  Alya frowned.  “So… She drank poison, but…  She must have been tricked into it.”

“Apparently she was really proud of herself when she died.”

Alya whistled.  “So, she outfought both of us, and beat Lila without her even realizing she’d lost before she’s too late.”

“Yup.”

“Well,” said Alya, taking another spoon of soup, “that’s impressive.  How’d they catch her?”

“Got her surrounded, and, apparently, the only reason they didn’t have to fight her was because Adrien was willing to come back with them if they let her go.”

Alya’s brow furrowed. “He got kidnapped.  Was he already planning on leaving when we found him?”

“Dunno, dude, but apparently they’re in love.”

“Huh.”  Alya took another spoon of stew.

“Oh, but here’s the kicker; apparently, they didn’t even let her go!  This dude was talking about how they took her to this ‘Pit of Torment.’”

“Well that’s a fun name,” said Alya, through a mouth of stew.

“Yeah…  Don’t think they guy really knew what it was, but it had something to do with…”  Nino stopped.

“What?”

“Alright, listen, dude, you’re sleep deprived.  I need you to sleep before I tell you anything else.”

She swung to face him, downing the last of the bowl.

“Uh huh. Right.”

Nino frowned.  “C’mon dude, trust me on this.”

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll sleep after you tell me. I can’t sleep when I’m curious about something.”

Nino stared her down.

The problem was, he remembered the dozens of times she’d woken him up in the middle of the night to ask him about something pointless.

She could easily follow the same pattern this time, which would mean…

“You’re lying down first,” he said.

Smiling, she rolled her eyes, and complied.

“Okay?”

There was a long second, and he shifted a bit closer, his hand coming up slightly, ready to move.

“Nino, this is unnecessary, I’m not about to—”

“The guy I was talking to started thinking about all of this after a blue woman showed up to talk to the captain.”

He was almost too slow, as his hand slammed down into Alya’s stomach.  She gasped, but kept struggling to stand, scratching at him.

“No,” he said, voice a bit less relaxed than usual.  “You’re going to sleep.”

“How many blue women are there in the world?  It has to be her.”

“I know,” he said, ignoring her claws scrabbling at his wrist, “and she’s in a castle, which is guarded by 30 men.  That’s not something you can do when you’ve been awake for… How long have you been awake?”

“Only a day or so, and if you think I’m going to let that stop me—”

“I’m not saying you’ll let it, dude, I’m saying it will.”

Alya was out of breath already, but she was still weakly trying to scratch at him.

“I don’t want to wait.”

Nino sighed.

“Neither do I; they say she’s out on missions a lot, but she’s here now, and you can’t afford to pass out in the middle of this.”

“I’m not going to… I’m not going to pass out,” said Alya, “I’m going to…  I’m…”

She was fighting to stay awake, but it wasn’t working.

“Easy, dude…  You’ve still got plenty of time…  Just gotta take a little nap…  It’s gonna be fine…”

She stared up at him, seeming almost betrayed, but…  Finally, her eyes closed.

Nino waited a second, and pulled his hand away.

He leaned up against a wall.

Judging by the angle of the sun… It was a few hours before noon, and the wedding that was presumably keeping the blue woman began only a few hours before sundown which meant…

They still had time, 7, maybe 8 hours at least.

--

Technically speaking there were still 2, maybe 3 hours for things to go wrong before the wedding started.

Still, the negotiations were theoretically finished, and Chloe hadn’t complained about anything for the last ten minute, which was a good start.

His show of worrying about assassins, meanwhile…

“The Forest is empty, sir, and 30 men guard the gates.”

He looked up.

“Double it.  The occasion demands it.”

The man opened his mouth to respond, hesitated, and then…

“As you’re no doubt aware, there is only one gate key currently in circulation, and I have that.”

“Then for your own protection,” said Gabriel, shrugging, and then, at the sound of the door, he looked up.

“Adrien.”

“You asked for me, Father?”

“Tonight is the wedding,” he said, unnecessarily, “and tomorrow, the same men who guard the gates tonight will escort you and Chloe to the channel, where you will be accompanied by every ship in my armada to your honeymoon.”

“Except the four fastest.”

For a second, the words didn’t register with him.

“Every ship but the four you sent.”

“Of course.  Not those four.”

The Chief Enforcer, sensing something in the air, took his leave.  Too much to do, too many places to be that weren’t here.

Adrien watched him go, watched the door close.

“You never sent the ships, did you.  Don’t… Don’t answer that, you’d just lie again.”  He sighed, his eyes pained.  Then, he sighed, and seemed to resolve himself.  “It doesn’t matter, though.  Marinette will come for me.”

“I don’t think you understand what you’re talking about.”

“No.  I do understand, Father.  I understand that you’re scared.  You’re scared that your grab for money and power won’t work.”

“I would recommend you don’t presume to know my aims.”

“Why not?  What else would you be trying to do?  I know you’ve been grabbing Miraculouses.  I know you’ve spent too much money, you’ve hurt people.  I know that you’re looking for something to hold on to, since Mom died, but in the process… She’d be ashamed of you, Father.”

For an instant, there was a flash of something behind Gabriel’s eyes, and then his expression went completely blank.

Seconds went by, time stretching out.

Eventually, he spoke.

“The only reason you are alive right now,” he said, voice trembling, “is because you are my son.”

Adrien met his eyes, and found no emotion.  There was only the total restraint of a man who knows that the slightest lapse would result in catastrophic damage.

“Go to your room.  Now.”

Adrien, brave, but not foolish, complied.

--

How long she’d been down there, Marinette didn’t know; Nathalie had come and gone 10, maybe 15 times, but the intervals seemed irregular, and more to the point, Marinette was losing count.

That worried her; she’d been trying to pay attention, but everything had gotten… fuzzier.

Nathalie was writing something down.

That meant she’d just used her Miraculous again, surely, which made it all the more distressing to Marinette that she didn’t remember it.  It was unpleasant when she used it, right?  That should have stuck with her, then, but there was no memory, and-

She was jolted from her disjointed musings by light in the distance, and a figure moving, as the door to the outside world opened.

A man she was sure she should recognize entered, moving purposefully.

He strode up, and bent down in front of her.

“I remember you.  Did you know that?  I remember Adrien moping for years when you were supposed to have died.”

She stared, almost uncomprehending.

“You should have stayed dead.  And this time…  For the suffering you’ve put me through, I’ll return some taste of it.”

He straightened up, and turned to Nathalie.

“Nathalie.”

“Sir?”

“Break her.”

Nathalie seemed almost alarmed.

“Sir?  She’s the most successful subject I’ve ever had, I believe that with only-

“I said…  Break.  Her.”

There was a long, long second as the two of them looked at each other.

Nathalie looked down, and sighed.

“Yes sir.”

Marinette looked up at her as she brought up the fan.

“You should know,” she said, “I truly wish I didn’t have to do this.”

And then—

[tnystrk-exe]

The Plan

Based on To All the Boys I Loved Before

Growing up wasn’t the worst. Life was great with your siblings and father. Those three were your backbone. If anything happened in your life they were always there for you. Whether it was to hold you when you were down or joke about the situation. They were the only dependable people around. 

At a young age you learned that not everyone was dependable. Your siblings and yourself got to hear your mother rant about how she had never even wanted to adopt once, let alone three times. It was heartbreaking to hear. It didn’t take long after for your father to file for divorce with full custody of his three kids.

Natasha was the oldest, a natural leader. She was the first child the Fury’s had adopted. No one knew anything about her past. Your father was the one who found her walking along the road. The little girl couldn’t have been older than three, she was in tattered clothes and all muddied up. Nat refuses to be pulled away from Nick after. It was safe to say she grew on him just as well. For a year your father fought tooth and nail to adopt her, against the state. With your mother’s support he assumed she was on the same page as him. 

Soon after your father felt like having another child in the home. Along came you. Your birth parents had ditched you at a fire station. There weren’t as many blanks in your story as Nat’s. A fireman had managed to catch a glimpse of a young couple scattering, while a newborn cried into the night. You must’ve been at the right place at the right time because three months later Nick made a place in his family for you. 

It was four years before Peter was born. The Parker’s were a young couple that had got a bad case of baby fever after hanging out with you and Nat. They considered you all their family. Around the time Peter was a year old, his parents were in a horrible crash. Neither made it to the hospital. They had left the baby to Richard’s brother Ben and his wife May. The young couple struggled between college, work, and a baby. Nick extended his hand, putting forward the idea of him being Peter’s legal guardian until the two could handle having the child. Weeks passed before they finally agreed. Ben and May were still heavily involved in Peter’s life from then on. Just until they finally had good enough footing to take care of Peter on their own, they had stressed. 

The history with in your family led you to believe people came and go as they wanted. So why let more people into your life than necessary? It left less of a chance to get hurt by others just picking up and leaving. You never threw caution into the wind and played with your card close to your chest. If getting heartbroken was in the possible out comes, then you always opted out. 

That meant each time you though you were even developing a crush, you’d drown it out. You’d write a letter out, leave it in a box in your closet and forget about those feelings the best you could. The collection was up to five letters now. All hidden away out of sight and out of mind. 

There was Bruce, the nice boy you fell head over heels for when you were 11 at summer camp, his glasses, curls, and shy demeanor made him adorable. Sam who asked you to dance at the spring formal, the whole night was passed twirling around with one another. Scott from freshman year’s biology class, he was nice and managed to make you laugh at everything. Tony who was your first kiss at 13. Finally, Steve...

Steve, Steve, Steve.

Steve was in all ways your first love. The original wound. When you were seven his family moved into the house next tours. It was a start of a beautiful friendship. There wasn’t a moment of time the two of you would be apart. A duo to be reckoned with. That was until freshman year. Nat and Steve had suddenly realized the other’s existence. You were late in realizing your feelings for him, but that was okay. Right? At least they were happy?

Everything and nothing changed all at once. They made sure to include you in everything, without making you feel like a third wheel. No way it ever worked out. Now you were nothing but an add on to their relationship. 

“YN! Wake up, breakfast is up soon,” Nat woke you. 

“Nat, leave me alone. I’m trying to stay unconscious for longer than you’ll let me.”

You felt the bed dip and Peter jumped on to the bed, “Not gonna work. She’s a tyrant.”

“Trust me, I know.” 

“YN, eyes open. Now.”

Finally complying, you opened your eyes. “Ready to know my commands for the day, dear.”

“Just get up, dad’s making breakfast and I need you to help me pack up for college.” She turned heel.

Peter dashed after her, “Wait? I thought you were cooking. Dad’s cooking kinda...sucks.”

“You’ll smile and happily compliment whatever he sets down in front of you.” 

“I will, just not as excited anymore,” Peter answered wistfully. 

You took your time getting ready for the day. There was no rush. Two more days before you needed to go back to school. Besides it’s not like your schedule was ever particularly eventful. 

Bounding down the stairs, you were met by the sight of Steve and Nat apperently greeting each other happily. “You two know what houses are full of? Rooms. There’s even a handy one that belongs to a certain red head.”

“Morning, YN,” Steve chuckled a light blush across his cheeks, “How are you?”

“A lot better now that I don’t have to as you and my sister going for it,” you answered, leaving the couple behind and walking to the breakfast table. 

Everyone got situated at the table soon enough. Peter was evidently not a fan of the food but was happily immersed in the conversation. 

“Nat, you’re coming home for Thanksgiving right?” Peter asked around a mouth full of food. 

“No,” your dad shook his head, “We can’t afford it, she’s coming for Christmas break.”

“That reminds me..” Steve set down his sketching supplies and looked through his bag, holding up a plane ticket. “I thought about surprising you the day of, but I figure a count down would be better.”

Natasha looked surprised and not exactly as pleased as everyone expected. “Did you already pay for that?”

“Yeah! Of course. Same day you said it was official.”

“Steve, we need to talk...”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good,” you heard Peter whisper to himself, “Dad the food is delicious. Would anyone like more some more of this bread egg bacon stuff?”

The rest of the day was like WW3 broke out in your home. Nat and Steve were completely at odds. They ended up being pushed into the backyard to continue their conversation. It wasn’t until late that night that the arguing finished. 

Nat fell dramatically beside you on the bed. You set your book aside and turned your attention to her. “What’s up?”

“I broke up with Steve,” she said matter of fact. Nat didn’t seemed phased. Though she never was, she was a tough one. 

You however were taken back, “Really? That’s...that’s something...Why? You seemed to, at least I thought-“

Nat rolled her eyes, “I loved him,” she completed. “I do, but it’s stupid to drag this out. He’s a great guy, but we all know how this is gonna work out in the end. Might as well snip it before it gets worse.”

“Doesn’t mean you two would end up that way. Why not take the chance? Maybe some big gesture?”

“You read too many romance books, kid. Not everything works out in the end. How about you go find your own person to romance and cut out of mine?”

You raised your hands, “Stalemate. Done. I got my reasons for doing things, you’ve got yours. Leave it at that, what do you say?”

“Sounds good. YN, I need to talk to you,” Nat used her more parental voice. It was used for bad decisions and advise. 

“Go for it,” you shrugged, already leaning against the headboard, knowing you couldn’t avoid one of her talks. 

“Dad’s a busy man. He tries to balance it all out between family and work, but he needs some help. Between the three of us, there’s a lot of stress. While I’m gone, you’re in charge. You’re gonna be the oldest sibling, Pete and dad are going to need you a lot more often. I just need you to step up.”

You picked at your fingers, “Yeah, I, um, definitely. You know, Nat, you didn’t have to come tell me that. I’ve stepped up to the plate just as much as you have.”

Natasha nodded and stood up, “I should finish packing up. Get this room clean.”

“Yes, mom,” you answered monotonous. As much as you loved Nat, she had a tendency not to see you on an equal footing as her. She didn’t do it purposefully, but it always got under your skin. You knew she was just worried about the family and let it go as best as you could. 

You tried cleaning, you really did, but each found object was a new thing to explore. As much as it annoyed your family members your room was just destined to look a mess. Pushing yourself to clean again, you came across an old shoebox. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you carded through the carefully decorated letters. Reading through them, you laughed and cringed. The past wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, but you could remember being in the mindset when you wrote each one clearly. It was nice seeing how you had developed and expressed your emotions through out your life. Placing the box back on the floor, you pushed it under your bed to be forgotten until the next time you came across it. 

The following morning everyone helped Natasha put all of her things into the car. You noted that she made a point of it not to look at Steve who was working on his old motorcycle. Having known Steve long enough, you knew he had some hope of something, anything to happen. Still, there was no such luck. It was known that Nat was the type that could leave things and never think of them again, but you thought it was different to her with people. You couldn’t deny, the thought came with a healthy dose of fear. 

At the airport, everyone said there last goodbyes. 

Nat playfully ruffled Peter’s hair, “Don’t give these two too much trouble.”

“I forgot to pack your magazines,” Peter remembered, “Dad, let’s go get some for her.”

Nick was dragged away by Peter, “Slow down, they’ll still be there if we get there a second later.”

You watched them walk off, to the stand a couple of feet away, “Don’t have too much fun in Scotland without me.”

“No, I’m leaving all of the fun here with you. Good luck with your junior year. Loosen up a bit and have fun. If anything happens, I’m a call away.” She gave you a tight hug. “I’m going to miss seeing you around, kid.”

“I’m going to miss you too, Nat...Things are going to be different. Did you really have to go out that far?”

“It was a full ride scholarship,” she shrugged, “less for dad to worry about.”

“We didn’t know what you’d want to read, so we grabbed one of each,” Nick said, handling over the stack of magazines.

Nat grabbed the stack and offered the three of you a smile. “Thank you. Guess this is where I leave. I’ll see you guys at Christmas.” Nat walked toward the terminal. 

“Do you think she’ll wave?” Peter asked. 

“No. Nat’s not like that,” you answered. 

Nick put his arms on your and Peter’s shoulders. “Are you two thinking about going to a different country too? Am I really that bad?” He joked, leading the two of you out of the airport. 

“Well,” Peter smiled, “If you get me a dog, I’ll stay a lot longer. How’s that for a deal?”

“I don’t think so, nice enough try. What about you, YN?”

You thought for a moment, “I love it here, but I really don’t know yet. It’s a lot to sort out.”

“The beginning is tough,” Nick allowed, “I’ll be here to help you sort it all out.”

Two weeks had passed since Nat left for school. Which meant it was prime time for school to start for you and Peter.

“Hey, Pete!” You shook him awake. “Time to wake up.”

“Ten more minutes,” he grumbled, pulling the cover over his head, “It’s what Nat would have wanted.”

“Nat would have woken you up thirty minutes ago. You don’t know what she would have wanted. C’mon get up.”

He groaned, pushing off the blanket. “Fine, but only because I owe you the world for those thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get ready and do what you need. Hurry though, breakfast is almost ready.”

After breakfast, Nick had managed to convince you and Peter to take the annual first day of school pictures. 

“Smile!” On the command you signaled Peter to make a funny face with you, “Ha, ha, give me at least one nice one.”

“Yes, sir,” you complied, putting an arm around him and smiling happily. The two of you settled for a cutesy picture.

“Was that so hard?” Nick said, pocketing his phone, “Drive safe, have good days, I’ll see you both at dinner.”

That left the two of you to go to Nat’s car. You stared at the wheel, hesitant. Driving was still new to you. Anytime Nat and Steve dragged you anywhere, they insisted on driving. There wasn’t much room to practice, coupled with the fact that you had never driven with Peter in the car. You felt some pressure. 

Peter stared at you, “You can do it, YN. I’ll even ride without my seatbelt to prove how much I trust you.” He clicked it off. 

You clicked the seatbelt back in before it had a chance to go back. “Appreciate the confidence. Rather not risk it, if it’s cool with you.”

The ride to school was bumpy and you were never more thankful that Pete’s school neighbored yours. 

“It wasn’t so bad, YN! Good job!” He held his hand up for a high five. “Meet up here after school?”

You slapped your hand against his, “Yeah. Tell Ned I said hey.”

“Will do! Good luck today.” He gave you a smile before leaving the car to get to the middle school. 

You grabbed your backpack and locked up the car. Luckily enough you had gotten there early enough to miss the schedule line. Another year of...probably the same as the year before and the year before that. 

Passing Steve you gave him a quick, slightly awkward wave. Neither of you had spoken since the break up. Amazing that it wasn’t even your break up and you got to deal with the weirdness of it. With your mind occupied, you crashed into someone’s back.

“Watch it! Oh, it’s you,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes when she saw you. Pepper was your old best friend in middle school until she decided her popularity was more important. 

Ignoring her sneer, you gave her a smile. She hated when you were polite to her more than anything. “Sorry, Pep. Nice seeing you around.”

She looked you over, trying to find any flaws. “Really? You’re shopping at the army surplus store now?”

“Oh yeah,” you showed off your boots, “Like them? They’re pretty amazing.” You felt an army sling around your shoulders. 

“My favorite neighbor fucking with you again?” Val asked, “What’s up? Mommy and daddy’s took away your money and now we’re throwing tantrums? Gotta say, the boots are way better than your whore heels.”

“Fuck off, Val. You’re already drinking for the day? I can smell it from here.”

“No, but I am. I’m pretty sure you’re smelling me,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around Pepper, trying to defuse the situation, “Morning, baby. How about we go meet up with the group?”

She turned in Tony’s arms, greeting with him with a morning kiss. “That sounds great, honey.” Pepper walked through you and Val. It didn’t pass by you that she gave you a proud look. 

“Sorry, about her. Pep’s just be-“

“Don’t want to hear it, Tony. Everyone has problems to deal with,” you cut him off.

“Yeah...YN, Val, always a pleasure. I’ll see you later. ” He walked around you and to his meeting place. 

“For what it’s worth your shoes really are killer.”

“Aww, you really think so?”

“One compliment a day, LN. Don’t push it.”

Later that day, much to your disappointment Val decided it was time to start her ditching career again. To be fair, you hadn’t expected her to show up at school at all so you had to give her that much credit. Well, it was time to stop avoiding Steve, if you wanted to sit with anyone.

“Hey..” you greeted, “Do you mind if I...?”

“Yeah, sure!” Steve quickly cleared his stuff off of the space beside him and set it on the floor in front of himself. “Didn’t think you’d come after everything.”

“If I remember correctly, I found this spot. Technically, I should have custody of this stair case.”

“Nope, we found it together. Gotta share.” His attention was back on the sketch he was working on, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s hardly a disappointment. I like having you around.” You sat down next to him, thankful things weren’t as awkward as you had imagined. 

“So..” he said nonchalantly as possible, “Did you know? Just you and Nat are so close. I just wanted to know if she had talked to you about it.”

Of course you jinxed it. “No. Sorry, I really had no idea. I’m pretty sure, if anything, we both assumed the same thing happening,” you spoke quickly, “Nat didn’t say anything to me.”

“Oh, okay.” 

You were never so thankful to hear the bell, signaling time for the next class. 

Later that day, you walked over to the middle school and waited for Peter near the entrance. The first day wasn’t all that bad now, was it? 

“Hey, YN! Is it cool if Ned comes over? We already texted his parents.”

“I don’t see why not.”

The boys high fived. You followed them over to your car. They settled down in the back, Peter had already told Ned you were nervous and to be on the quieter side until further notice. Considerate kids, those two. 

Putting the car in reverse, you just went for it, stopping the car completely when you heard a bump. Tony quickly walked around the car and knocked on your window.

“Hey, YN,” he said sweetly, once you rolled it down. 

You only nodded in acknowledgment unsure of what to say. Probably a sorry, but you couldn’t get yourself to speak.

“When I said ‘See you later, this isn’t exactly what I was picturing. You know back in 18whatever mirrors were invented? Really handy for cars when you need to see something behind you.”

You answered automatically without really thinking, “I know, I have one, just always thought I’d see your ego coming from a mile away.”

Two gasps filled the quiet that followed your statement. 

Tony closed his eyes, taking in what you had said. The corners of his mouth twitching trying to keep away a smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, LN. Seriously, though, next time check. Boys, do me a favor and don’t let her hit anyone else.” He walked away without another word. 

A couple of minutes passed before you restarted the car. Peter and Ned assured you multiple times that no one was crossing before you exited out of the space. 

The first day of school went well. 

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Marvel Tag: 

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[shipmistress9]

What it means to be Chief - Chapter 1: Parting

So, I was asked to upload here as well so... here you go ;) Warning: M-rated ;)

When Chief Hiccup Haddock returned home that night, he was exhausted. What a day! What a long and very unpleasant day… But finally, it was over.

He unbuckled his fur coat and the uncomfortable weapon's belt, dropped both on the trunk near the entrance, next to a pair of pauldrons and with an exhausted sigh, he slumped down into the gigantic chair that had once belonged to his father. He rested his face in his hands, arms propped up on the table in front of him and for a moment simply enjoyed the ease and comfort around him.

The room was warm with a low fire burning in the hearth, its crackling the only sound and the air was filled with the scent of a hearty stew. He could feel his stomach rumbling at that. When was the last time he'd eaten? Breakfast? Probably… Although, hadn't he needed to leave in a hurry that morning because of that quarrel down at the docks? Had he eaten anything at all today? He wasn't sure… He probably should get up, look for the food and for –

With a light knock, a bowl filled with still steaming stew was placed in front of him followed by a second one and he noticeably relaxed as a pair of soft lips touched his forehead. He hummed due to her lingering kiss and the way her fingers lightly caressed his face.

"I almost thought you'd spent the whole night up in the Great Hall today." She said in a light voice, but beneath the teasing tone, he could also hear her weariness.

"Yeah…," he answered slowly. "I thought so, too." He grimaced slightly as she withdrew her lips and fingers but a moment later, he heard the scraping of wood on wood as she drew her chair back to sit down as well. He opened his eyes to look at her. The sight of her always served to make him feel better in any situation.

She already had put off most of her usual armor and her hair was already down, falling in golden waves down her back. She, too, looked exhausted but then that was no surprise, really. Summer was drawing to an end and the preparations for the winter were in full swing. These days, nobody was at a loss of work. "You should eat," she remarked, nudging him lightly. "before it gets cold. Would be a shame…"

Hiccup eyed his wife carefully as she blew on the spoon full of stew and then pushed it into her mouth. She put in a lot of effort into getting better with all this domestic stuff as she called it, he knew and appreciated that but that didn't mean that her skills in that area were worth mentioning yet.

In this case though, she seemed to have been doing well, because she hummed contently and her features relaxed instantly as she chewed on that first mouthful. Reassured, he reached for the second spoon and yes, he had to admit it tasted delicious! They ate in silence, both too hungry and too weary for any conversation for now.

After he'd emptied the bowl, he leaned back into the chair with a satisfied sigh. "That was just what I needed right now," he admitted. He was still groggy, his mind too full of thoughts about everything that he'd had to do today and yet, he felt better. The warmth of the fire from the outside and of the stew from the inside did their work and he felt himself beginning to relax. "And you made this?"

. o O o .

Astrid glared at him for a moment. There was just a bit too much of surprise in his voice at these words. But then, he was right… If she would have been able to prepare a meal only remotely like this, she would stop taking these dreadful lessons from her mother immediately.

"No, my mom did," she admitted, not ashamed of that fact. In a normal household with another couple, this confession might have been embarrassing for the wife in question but with them, things were different. He hadn't fallen in love with her for her domestic skills after all. She had to gain those eventually, she knew and always had known that, but for now neither of them cared too much. "She only let me slice the vegetables and meat." He nodded with a small smile on his tired face and closed his eyes again.

He didn't look well. Sure, after their meal, he looked better, but still not well. She knew that this day hadn't been an easy one, another one of Berk's gripe days and a council meeting to plan the additional chores for the upcoming winter. Repairing fences and storehouses, recapturing livestock, the usual. But still, there seemed to be more, something else that occupied his mind. Well, rumors had even reached her busy ears today. And they seemed to be true…

"How was your day?" She asked artlessly and watched him grimace. He pressed his lips into a thin line and slowly shook his head.

"And yours?" he asked back evasively. She gazed at him for a little longer, then stood up and walked toward him. She sat down on his lap, straddling him and lightly placed her hands on his neck. He groaned as she began to massage his stiff muscles but quickly relaxed further.

"Nothing unusual," She said absentmindedly while her hands worked his neck and shoulders. "After the meeting, I helped Valka and Eret with the young Hobblegrunts and Shovelhelms. Their training turns out to be much more demanding than expected. Luckily that doesn't go for the new riders as well. Their training went well, I would never have thought Snot of all people would be such a good teacher." She chuckled lightly and caught his lips twitching into a smile as well. Her hand wandered upward into his hair, massaging his scalp through his thick mane while he placed his on her thighs, drawing calm circles on their outsides.

"Later, I helped Ruff carrying more of her stuff over to her new house." She continued. "I never expected to see the day when she and Tuff actually wouldn't live together anymore but here it is. Although I'm not sure whether Snot is such a good alternative, compared to Tuff. Well, it was her choice… I just hope this thing with Tuff's Lia works out, for his sake!" She wasn't sure how closely her husband was listening by now. His hands were on her hips now, not yet drawing her closer and only holding her firmly. But he also seemed to be lost in his own thought, too caught up to relax. She knew her babbling would distract him from those all too demanding thoughts so she went on. "And then we all met at my mother's of course. She's still incredulous about how a bunch of green girls suddenly ended up being wives and I'm not saying that I mind her attempts at teaching us… I know she means well and I know she has a point but still…" She sniffed exaggeratedly and caught his lips stretching into a wider grin. Goal achieved!

She felt his hands digging harder into her hip, subconsciously pulling her toward him while she let her fingertips glide over his face, his cheekbones, his jawline, and his lips. She was reluctant to raise that other topic. He finally seemed to lighten up. But it needed to be done, they needed to talk about it if what she'd heard was true. She brushed her lips lightly over his before she continued: "And then, while my mom tried to teach us how to season the stew, Mrs. Ingerman showed up." Beneath her, she felt him stiffen instantly. Because, of course, Mrs. Ingerman had heard the news first and she was well known to be the biggest gossipmonger of Berk. "She told us about a T-mail that arrived from Berserker Island. Apparently, she's going to be a grandmother soon and was very excited. My mom gave me a reproachful look but I don't know that I'm ready to stop drinking the moon tea. Not yet…" She observed his reaction closely, though not because of what she'd said. They were on one on that point. No, she observed him because of what she hadn't said yet. "She also told us about another note that came with it." She mumbled against his neck. "A message from Dagur?"

. o O o .

There it was, that dreaded message and all those thoughts that had come with it. Hiccup tensed up all over again, ruining all her efforts to get him to relax in an instant. He barely noticed how his fingers dug harder into her and only lighten his grip as he felt her shifting uncomfortably beneath his hands. He didn't want to deal with that, not right now at least, didn't want to think about what they… what he needed to do! There was no way around it and of course, he had to talk about it with her, but not yet… Not now…

He nodded to let her know that there truly was a message from Dagur and that he didn't intend to keep it from her. He would tell her, she needed to know but not now! Now, he just wanted to hold her, to feel her. He needed her!

He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, drew her body against his and apparently, that was all the invitation she needed. He exhaled sharply into her hair as she purposefully ground her warm center against his crotch. The sensation sent a hot wave of desire through his already heated body. Gods, she was incredible! He felt her hand on his cheek, lifting his face toward her and a moment later, her lips were on his. There was no caution in this kiss, no hesitance, no room for doubts as to where it would lead them. Her tongue darted out to meet his, playfully challenging him and she pressed herself against him, her soft body melting against his chest. Her closeness wiped away every coherent thought in his mind in an instant, as always, and his body moved more out of instinct than anything else. She gasped into his mouth as he bucked beneath her, his growing bulge pressing into the damp heat between her legs. Their breaths mingled more and more while they worked each other up, hands gliding over skin and bodies rubbing against each other. Then she leaned back, quickly loosened the buckles and clasps of his armor and he used the break to push her shirt up and over her head - to reveal her already bare breasts beneath. He groaned as the sight sent another wave of hot need through his body and down into his loins. She really was-

"…incredible." He gasped shakily and reached for her, drawing her closer again. He ran his lips up and down her neck, exhaling against her sensitive skin while his hands carefully slid up her body. She arched into his touch, seeking more and he was all too willing to giving her just that. A suppressed moan escaped her, the sweetest sound, as his fingertips finally reached the swell of her breasts, grazing the sensitive flesh lightly for a moment before he moved on, carefully cupping those firm hills with his calloused hands. He watched her trembling in anticipation while his thumbs glided up to her peaks, playfully flicking them a few times, drawing light circles around them and finally pinched them in the way he by now knew would drive her crazy. She cried out and firmly pressed down on his crotch again, eager for more friction, more sensation, just more!

More… Yes, he could give her more, would give her everything! He leaned down to slowly lick over the hot, white skin of her breasts, leaving a prickling wet line to remind her where he'd been. His tongue and teeth made their way to her nipple, nibbling and teasing while his hands slid back down to her hips and through the tangles of her studded skirt toward her ass. He grabbed her cheeks and continuedly rolled her hips toward him to meet his jerking ones with every thrust. She moaned freely now, moving with him, her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers dug into his back and buried in his hair. He moved a little faster, jerking up in abandon, spurred on by her needy noises and urgent motions. Gods, he needed her, wanted her, needed to know that she was his, that he was hers. He needed to - to stop! Now, or he would- would…

With a desperate groan, he pulled his mouth away from her and forced himself to stop thrusting into her through their clothes. She deserved better than this! At the sudden lack of sensation, she whimpered and gazed down at him through bleary eyes. He tried to say something, anything but his mind was too dazed already to form any coherent words. Instead, he just tugged helplessly at her skirt's tassels, the first thing he could get a hold on. She nodded, panting and crawled back, off his lap. He watched her in rapt attention as she quickly stripped off her skirt and legging only to reveal that she wasn't wearing any undergarment at all anymore.

. o O o .

Astrid threw him a feverish look while she got rid of her remaining clothes. She loved how he watched her doing so, completely captivated as if it was the first time he saw her like this. They were married for a few months now and getting naked, getting intimate with each other wasn't awkward or strange anymore. But it was still far from being ordinary and she hoped that would never change. She saw him swallowing as he raked her naked body and she gave him a sly smile as she sauntered back toward him.

Another thing she loved, although she would never admit it out loud, was how easily she could make him forget everything else with just a touch or a sound. She knew he never stopped thinking, never stopped considering options, never stopped pondering over one problem or another, one of his inventions or his duties as chief. His mind never stopped working unless they were together, skin on skin. She could see how his mind took a break now, how his thoughts rested and his head relaxed. It felt good to have this much power over him and even better to be able to do this for him. Because his mind needed a break every now and then, needed it dearly! And the simple fact how much fun having sex was was only the topping.

His eyes never left her as she dropped onto one knee in front of him and loosened the clasps that held his fake leg until she was able to take it off. While she stood up again, she let her hands run up his legs, rested them on his thighs and leaned over to give him another lingering kiss, almost playful in its innocence after their heated exchange before. Teasingly, she nudged her hands upward toward the considerable bulge in his leather pants and as they reached their goal, she rubbed against him with just enough pressure to make him shudder and gasp. Then, without tormenting him much further, she hooked her fingers below his waistband and pulled his pants and coverings down and off. He didn't help more than was necessary, knew all too well by now that she didn't want him to. Stripping him of his clothes was her privilege and his gift to her. As long as he didn't take over completely - and by Thor's hammer, she loved it when he did that! – it was her decision when and if they got rid of which clothes.

But tonight, she wanted to feel him, his hot skin beneath her hands. She crawled back onto his lap and pushed her damp center against his erection. "A… Astrid…" he gasped pleadingly but she didn't react like he probably wanted her to. Instead, she tugged at his leather armor and afterward at his tunic to pull both over his head, all the while twitching and twisting to further rub against him. As soon as his arms were free again, his hands were back on her hips, restraining her teasing, pulling her closer.

"Easy there…" she breathed and placed her hands on his chest, for stabilization and to indicate him to stay still. Slowly, very slowly, she pushed herself up, sliding her clit and her soaked core up and down his length. The sensation was overwhelming, sending hot desire through her already excited body but that was not why she did it. She watched with gleaming eyes as his rolled back into his head for a moment. He groaned and twitched beneath her, his hand still on her hips but he didn't even try to take over, made no further attempt to pull her close and down onto him. His hands didn't leave her but now they were more clinging to her than anything else, clinging to her for dear sanity while he waited for her to go on. He gave himself up to her, utterly and completely and his trust in her almost made her choke. Gods, how much she loved him!

She leaned down to place another kiss on his lips, not innocent at all this time as she nibbled on his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth just as she angled her hip the right way and firmly sank down on him, taking him in completely. They gasped in unison at the sensation and feeling so utterly full with him inside her made her shudder and clench uncontrollably. Gods, it felt so good, so right!

After a moment to adjust to him, she slowly began to move up and down his length, an exercise that suited her well-toned thighs. Every now and then, she paused to grind into him though, moaning wantonly when he teased that sweet spot deep inside her. She felt his fingers digging deeper into her butt cheeks as he tried to hold himself back, hold himself still as she wanted him to, to not grab her and thrust into her greedily. His cock inside her twitched and throbbed unmistakably, his heat radiating through her entire being. She became lightheaded and her breathing exhilarated uncontrollably as desire made her insides tense up deliciously. She was almost there, caught glimpses and sparks of her rising orgasm already. Just a bit more… She bit down on her lip, hard but wasn't able to completely suppress the needy moan from escaping her. His control over his body had become better during the past months but after she'd worked him up so thoroughly it was probably hanging by a thread by now. No more games.

. o O o .

Hiccup thought he might die any moment now. His head was empty, every thought thoroughly wiped away by her actions, again! All he could think about was how beautiful she was, how tight and hot she was around his cock, how sweet her moans and sobs sounded as she worked up both their tension.

God, yes, he wanted to take over, to mindlessly thrust into her hot and wet center until this unbearably tight coil in his guts snapped, until their howls echoed off the walls. But just as much, he wanted to just take what she had to give. Watching her bouncing up and down above him, watching her taking him in every time again, watching her face contort with barely concealable pleasure, it was incredible! And her noises… her helpless cries and urgent gasps, it was almost more than he could bear. No, he couldn't take over, even if he had wanted to. Just clinging on to her to hold his climax back just a little bit longer was about all he could muster.

He felt her tighten around him and recognized it as a sign that she, too, was close. Just a bit… longer… He told himself as a particularly drawn-out moan of her sent his head spinning. He forced his hands to loosen their iron grip on her ass and let them wander to her front instead. Another advantage of this position was that he had his hands free to pleasure her further! The rhythm of her bouncing faltered slightly as he rested his hand on her lower belly, moving up and down with her while his thumb pressed down on her clit.

She whimpered and sobbed weakly and moved a few more times, rubbing herself against his thumb before she firmly pressed down on his cock with a piercing scream. Her fingers dug into his skin, her entire body spasming as she came undone above him. Her inner walls clenched down on him hard, choking him and it finally was more than he could take. Even if their house would have come tumbling down on them right now, he couldn't have cared less as he arched up, pressing into her more firmly and released into her hot core with an unrestrained howl.

Some while later, Hiccup lay in the fur-nest by the hearth, his limbs entangled with those of his wife beside him. He wasn't sure how they'd made it over here from the gigantic chair but he didn't really care either way. After their shared climax, she'd all but collapsed on top of him, trembling and panting and his condition hadn't been any better. He'd been able to lay his heavy arms around her back and nothing more. It had been all his body had been capable off while his head had refused to work at all for a while.

But now, clarity slowly crept back into his mind. He remembered just how public their living room really was. He was the chief and whenever there was a problem, people just burst in here without hesitation. Or, Gods forgive, knocking! Right after their wedding, people had been a bit more cautious for a few weeks he'd noticed but that had worn off by now. Anyone could have barged in on them at any moment. And still could! In fact, it was almost a miracle nobody already had, with that news surely spreading like wildfire through the village.

"Astrid?" he asked cautiously. He didn't want to wake her but they were still lying around naked where chances were high for anyone to see them and the thought was weird. He knew that with the typical Viking-like lack of caution and restraint, things like that happened all the time. Hel, it had happened to him more than once when he was younger and had made deliveries for Gobber. But he never would have thought to find himself on the other side one day…

She stirred next to him, murmured something unintelligible and moved to cuddle him more closely. He laid his arm around her and began to cautiously rub her back, to slowly wake her up completely.

"Astrid, we should get up. Get dressed or get over to the bedroom or…" She stirred again but only to cuddle even closer to him and wrap one lithe arm around his torso.

"Mmhhhnnoo…" She mumbled against his chest without ever opening her eyes.

"But… Someone could come in, could see us… you… I mean…" He trailed off as her hold around his chest tightened and her warm body was suddenly pressed against his once more.

"Mmngh don't care," she murmured with a sigh and rubbed her cheek against his chest. "I want to stay like this… just a bit longer…" He smiled and closed his arms around her. He couldn't deny that he wanted that, too. "Just… Maybe pull over one of the furs?" She suggested hesitantly, almost like an afterthought. "It's getting a bit cold, you know…"

"Of course…" He chuckled but obeyed, covering them both with one of the bigger furs in reach.

They stayed like this for a little while longer, lazily caressing each other and murmuring sweet nothings. Her hand was on his face, her palm on his cheek and he nuzzled into it before she moved on, her fingertips outlining his features.

"What did Dagur want?" She suddenly asked and he grimaced.

. o O o .

Astrid watched him closely. Even relaxed as he was, her question had brought back those lines of stress around his mouth and eyes in an instant. She'd heard the rumors… That the men were preparing for a long journey on ships, just like they'd done years ago when they'd been looking for the dragon nest. She hadn't believed it really, why would anyone on Berk make such a journey on ships? Even if there were more people or equipment to transport, their dragons made for a far quicker journey, even if they were only used to pull the ships. But Mrs. Ingerman's mention of Dagur'S letter and her husband's anxiety… There seemed to be at least some truth is those rumors.

"He asked me for a favor," he finally answered. "You know I can't deny him that but aside from that, it's also a necessity for me… for us as well." He shook his head as if to chase away unwanted thoughts. Then he turned to the side, to better be able to look at her and began to talk.

"The Redthorn tribe… I guess you haven't heard much of them before?" He asked and she shook her head. That name didn't ring a bell, really. "They are a rather reclusive tribe in the east, or they used to be, at least. Dagur got word, that they became more active lately and with more active he means they are purchasing weapons and equipment. He doesn't know what they are planning, but… It made him wary and you know Dagur. Anything that makes him wary should be reason enough for everyone else to be cautious as well." He paused and ran his fingertips down the side of her face.

"He doesn't want to directly start a war. Thankfully, those times are over! But he wants to visit them. He wants to talk and maybe negotiate a peace treaty while everything's still calm. And he asked me to join him, said it probably would make a bigger impression on them when two tribes, two chiefs came with this request."

"Especially if one of them is the legendary Dragon Master…" she added with a playful smile but that only made him grimace further.

"Yeah, well…" He murmured reluctantly. "That's kind of where the problems begin. The Redthorns don't have many dragons in their area but are very hostile towards them nonetheless. If we want them to even consider a peace treaty, then we can't just barge in on our dragon on their island. We are the ones with the request after all. We have to abide by their rules as much as possible. My reputation as… as Dragon Master won't help. The Hooligan tribe is a powerful one and that's why they might consider a treaty but only if we keep the dragons out of it. Maybe we can change their minds later, but…"

She nodded thoughtfully. That explained the ships. "How far is their island? How long will we be gone?" Surely, Valka and Gobber would be able to run the village for a while, the blacksmith, in particular, was used to that anyway. But winter was coming and when they were traveling on ships they would need to return before the ice came.

She noticed how his face twisted in anguish and watched him more carefully. What else was there, what hadn't he told her yet?

"It'll take us about two weeks to reach their island on ships." He answered reluctantly. Well, that wasn't too bad. Even with a customary visit of a month's duration, they'd be back in two months, long before the ice closed up around them. But he still hadn't told her what was really bothering him.

"But?" She inquired more firmly and he sighed in defeat.

"But you can't come with me!"

. o O o .

Hiccup saw how her initial stunned expression first turned into disbelief and then into betrayal and rage.

"You promised!" She snarled and he winced at the accusing tone of her voice. "You promised you wouldn't try to protect me anymore! You promised that we would face any danger together, come what may! Dammit, you promised, Hiccup!" Her eyes were filling with tears and she turned away from him. Well, that went just as great as he had expected…

"I know what I promised." He replied, fighting to keep his voice calm. If they started to argue now he would never get the chance to explain it to her. "Believe me, I remember my oath. But this is different!" She interrupted him by turning back toward him and giving him her deadliest glare.

"How?" She spat. "How is this different? Why can't I come with you if not because this trip might be dangerous?" He bit his lower lip but otherwise forced himself to not evade her rage in any way. She would see it as a proof, as justification for her anger and wouldn't listen to him anymore.

"This trip won't be dangerous." He kept his eyes on her, begging her to listen, to understand. She didn't interrupt him this time which was a good sign at least. So he added in a lower voice: "Not for me, at least." Her expression turned into a confused frown so he hurried to explain further. "The Redthorns… There's something else about them. Something that shot them out at the chiefs' meetings, even long before we made peace with the dragons. It's… about their attitude toward women." He wanted to take a break, to see how she would react but he knew she probably wouldn't let him continue so he hurried on. "Their men don't see women as their equal, far from it. In their tribe, women are property and nothing more. They have to be quiet, obedient and… available. This trip won't be dangerous for me or the others but it would be for you!" He watched her pleadingly as she processed what he'd said. It was obvious when she'd come to a conclusion. Her face turned into a stony mask and she snorted harshly.

"I wouldn't be in danger, I'm quite capable of defending myself. But I would be the danger, right? You said it yourself, 'We have to abide by their rules'… You know I wouldn't stand back and let them treat me like that. I would endanger your treaty, right?" Despite her anger, his faces softened and he reached out to caress hers once again. Gods, how much he loved her, so smart and never afraid…

"I won't lie to you, that was part of the reasoning," He smiled at her apologetically. "But you are wrong when you think you wouldn't be in any danger." A memory rose in his head, many years old and he had hoped very much to never relive it again... He shuddered and his hands clenched into fists. To think, she could-

She huffed in irritation and clearly wanted to answer him back but he beat her to it. "I know how good a fighter you are!" He reminded her firmly. "But that wouldn't matter if they ambushed you with five men or even more. They wouldn't fight fair and if they thought you were getting ideas above your station then not even the fact that you are my wife would save you." He swallowed and felt the urge to draw her closer. She stiffened for a moment like she wanted to protest but then let him do so. Apparently, she wasn't angry anymore, or, rather not that angry at least…

"This is not keeping you safe while I head for the danger on my own, alright? This is just keeping you safe! I-" He took a shuddering breath. "I don't want you to ever place a foot on their land! Because that would be dangerous and unnecessarily so."

She was quiet for a few minutes and when she spoke again, her voice was calm and reasonable. "So, you're not taking any women with you on that trip? Ruff and Valka will stay here, too?"

He wasn't sure what she intended with this question but there was no point in withholding anything anyway. So, he nodded and said: "Yes, and Heather, too, if that works out. She, Dagur and Fishlegs are going to be here in a few days and then we'll set sails the next morning."

She gasped a humorless laughter. "So, it'll be just you boys going on a vacation? You, Dagur, Fishlegs, Snot, Tuff, and Eret? Right, I'm not worried at all anymore…"

"Well, I thought about bringing Spitelout and some of the other Elder, too. Those, who've dealt with the Redthorns before." He shrugged. "But aside from that, yeah, that's the plan."

She snorted again. "And that's supposed to make me feel better? Some old men to watch your back?" She paused for a moment, then shook her head and asked: "Toothless or me?"

"Erm… what?" he asked, not understanding what she meant.

"If you think I'll let you leave with only those muttonheads as backup then you're wrong! I know our friends have grown up, too, became responsible and all and are good fighters and I know every man would give his life to save yours but still. Either you'll bring Toothless or me to watch over you, it is your decision!"

"But…" he sputtered perplexedly. Hadn't she listened? "They wouldn't accept Toothless, the negotiations would be over before they even began!"

"I'm not saying he should come with you to the village! But…" She exhaled sharply and shrugged insecurely. "I don't know… Maybe he could stay in the forests nearby so he could reach you when you need him? You could equip him with that automatic tailfin you made for him once so he can fly on his own. I know he didn't like it but I'm sure he'd accept it under these circumstances! He could hunt on his own and hide from any villagers. He…" She trailed off and buried her face against his chest. "It's that or I'll come with you! Your choice!"

He felt her trembling in his arms and swallowed. She was worried… That was something he could hardly begrudge her… Gods, he had been worried, too, when he'd read what Dagur was planning! The Redthorns weren't an easy tribe to deal with and the thought of a peace treaty with people like them made him sick. But it was still better than open war. If there was even the slightest chance of avoiding that then he had to take it! Even if it came with a risk as well…

Her idea wasn't bad though, he had to give her that. It could work and it would make him feel much better on this journey. And if it served to keep her away from those horrible men, well, there was no choice to be made, really.

"I'll start rebuilding that tailfin at dawn then." He stated soberly. In his arms, she sobbed audibly but nodded, accepting his choice.

"I'll miss you horribly!" she said in a small voice close to breaking and he pulled her closer to him. Had they ever been separated for that long before? He couldn't remember that ever to have happened…

"I know," he murmured into her hair. "I'll miss you, too!"

Next Chapter

[laurenconraddaily]

The Hills Are Alive With Lauren Conrad’s Best Quotes About Being a Mom

Though the world first got to know Lauren Conrad as a teenager caught up in teenager stuff on Laguna Beach , she has also always seemed like a bit of an old soul. She’s turning 35 today, and yet we feel as if she’s had calm wisdom — set on pastel-colored backgrounds — to impart to us for ages. Which is why it was quite easy for us to mine her quotes from her last three-plus years of motherhood for words to which we can all relate.

Unlike LC, most of us have never been reality-TV stars, fashion interns, lifestyle gurus, young adult novelists, or clothing line moguls, let alone all of those at once. But when Conrad first started speaking about pregnancy, she was talking our language. She and husband William Tell welcomed baby Liam James in July 2017, followed by Charlie Wolf in October 2019 (and caused a bit of a stir with her second child’s already-used moniker).

While navigating new motherhood, Conrad co-founded the nonprofit The Little Market, which sells the handcrafted works of female artisans throughout the world. Then, with a toddler and a new baby at home in a pandemic, she managed to launch a new line of baby and children’s clothing at Kohl’s this year. Some of us, meanwhile, were really thrilled when we managed to put on pants for the day.

Unlike many of her reality-TV peers, Conrad is pretty private about her post- Hills life. She’s all too aware of how sharing can open her up to mom-shaming . This also has the effect of making the rare times she does speak to the press, open up on her short-lived podcast, or write on social media feel like very important moments. and we love to scoop up those rare LC gems. Read on for our favorite of Lauren Conrad’s quotes about being a mom.

That ‘When Are You Having Kids?’ Question

“Keep in mind that the decision to have children (both if and when), is an extremely personal one. And any questioning, pressure, or even hinting about it usually just makes the couple uncomfortable (and yes, this includes making comments on the Instagram of someone who is in the public eye!). You also never know if someone may be privately struggling with fertility or has suffered through a recent miscarriage. In those cases, asking someone when they are going to have kids can be a major trigger question. If a friend, family member, or public figure opens up to you about this decision first, then you get to comment about it. But please wait for them to volunteer the information first! — LC outlining some etiquette rules on her blog

On Teaching Kids About Racism

“A lot of it has to do with the example you set. Kids are always listening. They’re watching your actions and they’re listening to the way you speak to people, how you speak about people.” — to reporters at the #BlogHer Creators Summit

Parenting Is Gross

“A lot of parenting is gross, and you just adjust to it really quickly. I wasn’t expecting that, and then I was like, ‘Oh, I guess I’m just going to be cool with this now.’ So yeah, taking care of a tiny person is a little messy.” — LC to PopSugar

The Parenting Words We Need to Hear

“There’s a lot of advice out there. I think there needs to be more, ‘you’re doing great.'” — Conrad speaking about her Asking for a Friend podcast on E! News

Old School Sesame Street Is the Best

“We watch Sesame Street together. We prefer the older episodes because the graphics are a bit more mellow.” — LC telling SheKnows about her pandemic screen time

What Work-Life ‘Balance’ Really Means

“You don’t want to be spending time with your kids while having one eye on your phone. You want to be able to have undivided attention with them… It’s all about prioritizing what’s important to you and what you really need to be there for. I think when you’re running a business… it’s easy be like, ‘I need to do everything.’ But you can’t do everything really well, so we’re fortunate because we’ve been able to build an amazing team of people who share our passion. They work really hard.” — Conrad telling Us Weekly how she separates work from parenting

Breastfeeding Is Hard

“I, like a lot of moms, thought breastfeeding would be the most natural, beautiful thing in the world, and that it would come really easily to me, and I would just kind of know what to do because that’s what my body is made to do. It was, without a doubt, the most difficult part of becoming a new mother. I felt like I was failing at something that should come really naturally, and it was really difficult for me. I felt ashamed, and it kind of made me feel like a bad mom.” — LC on her podcast

Avoid Mom-Shaming Whenever Possible

“I haven’t [experienced mommy-shaming], but I have purposefully not posted a lot about my child. Only because, especially as a first-time mom, there’s already so much pressure on you. I don’t feel like putting on any more. It’s hard. It’s one of the hardest times in your life, and it’s a shame that women aren’t more supportive of each other.” — LC explaining her social-media plan to Stylecaster

Motherhood Makes Us Appreciate Our Moms

“After experiencing pregnancy, I went to my husband and I was like, ‘”Our mothers get jewelry this year! They get nice jewelry.'” — Conrad’s Mother’s Day revelation for a Kohl’s ad

Toddlers=Drunk Men

“Now, he is running, which is scary because they’re like little, drunk men,” she said. “They’re just constantly falling over, and you’re like, ‘Oh, my God!’”  — Describing Liam to People

[eddiespaghettio]

here’s your quote! “i get scared and start to think of you. is it true, do you think of me too?”

Eddie has nightmares and thinking of Richie always helps.

TW: homophobic slurs. 

The anniversaries are the hardest.

None of them talk about it, how the nightmares comes back tenfold and with a bloodthirsty vengeance every July. They don’t have to. It’s evident in the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, how they are all exhausted but secretly too afraid to sleep. So they stay out as late as they can, until the streetlights come on, spending more time at the quarry and Mike’s Grandad’s farm than anywhere near the Barrens. Because even though they defeated It, the trauma doesn’t go away, and the nightmares have the facility to twist and warp themselves into terrors that are somehow worse than that of what they saw down in that sewer two years ago. There’s a semblance of reality to these new night terrors that seems to put them all in a chokehold, gasping for breath long into the morning hours; that seems to haunt them regardless of how many times they remind themselves that It’s gone.

They had only spoken about it once, last summer, in the questionable hours between night and dawn, bundled up in sleeping bags in Denbrough’s living room, just days before what would have been Georgie’s eighth birthday.

“I-I still have n-n-nightmares,” Bill said, staring down into his lap at his torn cuticles, where the skin around his fingernails had been picked until it was red and painful. A stillness settled around the room, a collective held breath that asked are we actually talking about this? Even beneath the yellow lights of the table lamps, Bill looked ashen and pale.

“Me too,” Beverly whispered, and a few congruous, sympathetic sounds followed.

“Henry Bowers is always in mine,” Mike said, with a sad, encouraging smile in Bill’s direction, and no one had to ask to remember what had happened between the boy and their infamous bully to know what haunted Mike’s nightmares. “And my parents, of course.”

Bill lifted up his head, “T-these new ones,” he said, staring unseeingly at the group of them, sitting in a halfhearted circle in the middle of the room, “My p-p-parents are t-there.” There’s a forlorn, faraway look in his eyes and Eddie knows that that Bill’s reliving the nightmares over again in his head. “They…they b-blame me. They t-tell me that they w-w-wish that I had…that I’d d-d-died instead,” Bill forced out, voice cracking, eyes shining with unshed tears in the lamp light.

The temporary paralysis that had seemed to befallen them all shattered then, as they all moved at once to swarm around Bill, pulling him into a suffocating group hug, murmuring reassurances in the gaps between them all. They eventually fell asleep, dried remnants of tears on their cheeks, in a grouping best describes as a dogpile, and promptly never spoke of it again. Eddie hadn’t shared that night, too afraid to bring his terrors into the light, secretly ashamed of what not-entirely-out-of-the-realm-of-possibility tinged fears he harboured.

Eddie has nightmares all year round, but they are never quite as frequent or so vivid as they seem to be around the anniversaries. He can handle the typical bad dreams; the ones where he forgets to wear pants to school or the ones where his mom catches him doing or saying “inappropriate” things and bans him from his friends again. Those are easy, a cake walk really, by comparison. They’re nothing like the anniversary dreams.  

Eddie’s imagination has never been all that spectacular, his dreams always hazy and blurry, the details undefined like he’s purposefully unfocused his eyes, everything running together like a drippy watercolor painting. But Eddie’s anniversary dreams are almost lucid. He knows he’s dreaming, that they’re not real, but they feel real, sharp and vibrant like they’re happening in real time, and that’s what makes them terrifying. Not terrifying like child eating shapeshifter clown that feeds off your fear scary, but scary in the sense that it’s all the things he worries about in the back of his mind come true. And that’s where we finds himself again tonight, terrorized by his subconscious on a stickily warm July night.

Eddie’s sitting in their usual semi-circle in the dirt surrounding the quarry, perched on a weather worn boulder. They’re all together; even Beverly is there, having returned the summer before after convincing her aunt to move to Derry from Portland, her red hair bright like lit flames under the afternoon sun. Eddie can smell the earth, the sweet scent of the wildflowers that grow in resilient little tufts out of the rocks, and the tang of the pixi stix powder on Richie’s hands beside him. He can feel the heat of the sun bearing down on them, the almost cool breeze blowing across the water on his skin. He’s been here before — in real life, undoubtedly, but also in both his dreams and nightmares. And this is a nightmare, identical in every way as it was two nights ago and a icy ball of dread forms in the pit of his stomach.

Eddie feels the words bubbling up inside him like the fizz in an over-shook soda bottle and he tries to force it down, to swallow the words once he feels them on the tip of his tongue, but he blurts it out anyways: “I’m gay.” Everyone stills around him, Mike stopping mid-sentence from recounting some interesting tale he learned from one of his books, and they stare at him with large, judging eyes. Eddie desperately tries to jerk himself awake — if he could just move a one finger — because he knows this is going to get ugly really fast.

“I’m not surprised,” says Stan, his face screwed up in a sour expression, like he sucked on a lemon, “I always knew you were a faggot.” The reactions are always the same as the time before, like these nightmare shadows of his friends are reading off a script. But it hurts every time.

“That’s disgusting,” spits Beverly, and she pushes herself up from her seat in the dirt and stalks away, only glancing back to glower at Eddie in utter revulsion. Ben follows her out without a word.

“They still execute gays, y’know,” Mike says as he turns to leave, the expression on his face a mix of hatred and something akin to pity. “Maybe the should.”  

Bill towers over him. “I’m s-s-sorry, Eddie.” Bill always apologizes, but somehow it just makes it all the more painful. “B-but we can’t be f-f-friends with a f-fag. It’s j-j-just wrong.” One by one, his friends stand up and walk away, leaving Eddie to sit alone awash in his own self-hatred.

The last one to leave is always Richie, and he stares at Eddie with a barely constrained fury in his eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his glasses, his mouth twisted in an hideous scowl.

“How could you?” Richie demands, and Eddie flinches at the acid in his voice. “Look at me, Eddie!” Eddie didn’t even realize that he had turned to stare at his shoes. “How could you let me hug you? How could you let me sleep in your bed? When you knew all this time? How could you take advantage of me like that, your best friend? That’s so dirty, Eddie.”

Dirty. Dirty. Dirty.

The words begin to run on a loop, Richie’s voice fading in and out as the sound warps, growing more feminine, veiled with a thin veneer of forced cordiality, the sickly saccharine tone his mother always uses when something’s “for his own good.” Queers are dirty, Eddie-Bear; the words reverberate through his skull. So impure. They all go to Hell, Eddie. But we don’t have to worry about that. You’re my good boy, Eddie, you’re clean.

Eddie jolts awake, flying upright in his bed, the blankets pooling in his lap. He dry heaves over the side of his bed, the phantom of his mother’s words still ringing in his head. His face is red, cheeks wet with tears he didn’t realize he was crying. Eddie wheezes, struggling to breathe, and he scrambles to grab his inhaler off the nightstand. He knows it’s all fake, that he’s not actually asthmatic, but it always helps loosen the fist of anxiety and panic clutching his lungs. He stuffs the inhaler in his mouth, breathing in the acidic taste of the salbutamol like it’s his last lifeline.

Eddie cradles his inhaler in his hands in the fetal position, the angry and disgusted faces of his friends flashing in his mind. It’s not real, Eddie reminds himself. It’s not real. His friends wouldn’t treat him like that. They’ve been friends for so long, been through so much. Eddie racks his mind for any memories of his friends responding with that must hostility. They were probably that mean to Bower’s gang, maybe that fucking clown, but they deserved it ten fold. Eddie doesn’t deserve that sort of treatment, right?

He recalls a moment back in the spring when he and Ben came across crude signs pasted on the side of the Pharmacy, HOMO SEX IS IMMORAL, and GOD HATES FAGS, handwritten on white paper in red marker. Ben had stopped in front of the signs and frowned deeply, the corners of his mouth turning down so far it was almost comical.

“I don’t understand,” Ben had said, turning to look at Eddie who had froze beside him. Eddie tried to school his face into an expressionless mask. He probably just looked constipated.

“What do mean?” Eddie asked, and closed his eyes, almost afraid to hear what Ben said next. The words burned on the inside of his eyelids like they were a brand.

“Why does it matter? Why do people care so much?” Ben said, genuine confusion in his voice. “Why do people care if others are gay?”

Eddie exhaled in a puff, “I-I don’t know, Ben.”

Ben, the ever hopeless romantic, smiled a small smile and said, “One can’t help who they love.”

Thinking about that moment gave Eddie a small semblance of hope, flickering in his chest like a firefly, but it’s short lived;  the nagging voice in the back of his head interjected. Ben’s always been more of a follower. If everyone else walked, especially Beverly, then Ben would, too. Eddie curls in on himself a bit tighter, as if he could protect himself from his own mind if he makes himself as small as possible.

Unbidden, a voice is back, louder this time, but it’s not the voice of his friends. It’s crazed and angry, all over the place in pitch. The voice of that goddamn clown that Eddie can never seem to fully forget even though they defeated It and it’s been two years since. It bounces around in his head like an echo in a cavern. I’m every nightmare you ever had! I am your worst dream come true! I’m everything you were ever afraid of! Eddie laughs, a painful, broken sound, in the darkness of his bedroom. They may have beat Pennywise but Eddie’s still afraid. They beat It but he’s still scared. Eddie wishes he could fearless now.

Another memory pushes itself to the forefront, wielding a baseball bat. It’s Richie, from that day. In his imagination, Eddie envisions Richie beating the other thoughts away, the other memories. Eddie would never admit it, but thinking of Richie always helps — with his bad jokes and even worse impressions. Richie with his fierce loyalty, who is always there when it really matters, and even there when it really doesn’t. Eddie wants to believe that Richie wouldn’t hate him for being…that. Wants to believe that none of them would, but Richie most of all. And Eddie knows why, but he can’t even bear to voice the thought even in his own head.

“But soft what light through yonder window breaks wind.” It takes Eddie a solid ten seconds to realize that Richie’s voice wasn’t coming from inside his head. When he opens his eyes, he finds Richie crouched precariously outside his bedroom window, one outstretched arm hanging onto the roof shingles above. Richie shoves the window open from the outside and tumbles into Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asks dumbly, as though he isn’t staring at him from across the room. “What are you doing here?”

“Your window was open, Juliet,” Richie replies, pulling off his dirty sneaks and dumping them on the floor beneath the window sill. “Were you expecting me?”

“No, I was expecting the other weird teenage boy that crawls through my window,” Eddie says, and he can hear the rasp in his voice from crying. He hopes that Richie doesn’t notice.

“Hey.” Eddie can tell by the softness in Richie’s voice that he definitely did notice. Richie crosses from the window to Eddie’s bed in three long strides and then plops himself down at the foot of the bed, narrowly missing sitting on Eddie’s feet. The room is bathed in the yellow light of Eddie’s table lamp as Richie tugs on the chain. Eddie feels exposed under Richie’s searching gaze. “You’ve been crying.”

Eddie futilely scrubs his hands against his cheeks and eyes to try and rid his face of any evidence.

“Nightmare?” Richie asks, his eyes huge and warm, and impossibly soft behind his glasses.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles. He scoots over and Richie moves to fill the space beside him in Eddie’s tiny twin sized bed. Richie’s grown long and gangly in his few teen years, folding up beside Eddie like his limbs are too long and he doesn’t really know what to do with them.

“I have them, too,” Richie states in a surprisingly soothing tone and reaches over to straighten the collar of Eddie’s pajama top.

Eddie wonders briefly what terrorizes Richie in his nightmares. If he still is scared of werewolves like he was when they were kids, or if he’s still afraid of clowns like he was then. Somehow, maybe intuitively, Eddie feels that Richie’s probably scared of something worse, something more visceral, more nuanced. Like Bill’s nightmares of his parents wishing he had died instead. Like Eddie losing all the people he loves the most just by being true to himself.

Richie gives Eddie a small, reassuring smile that looks entirely out of place of his face.

“You do?” Eddie asks, and looks down at his inhaler still tightly gripped in his hands.

“Definitely,” Richie says, “Your mom and I break up and I can never see my Eddie Spaghetti again.”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie’s mouth before he can stop it. It’s not even funny, really, but it breaks the stiffness in the room. “I’d miss you, but I’d miss your mom’s swee-”

“Gross!” Richie just flashes Eddie a wide, crooked smile.

The lay in silence for an immeasurable amount of time ― five minutes, thirty, and hour? Eddie can’t tell ― pressed side-by-side, Richie’s bony elbow digging into Eddie’s spleen. Until Eddie can’t ignore the pressing need to just say something, the nightmare still dancing at the edges of his mind, snippets of dialogue flitting around.

“They just keep getting worse, you know?” Eddie says and it feels way too loud for the silence of the room. “The dreams, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Richie agrees. “Sometimes your mom doesn’t even give me a kiss to remember her by.” Eddie knows that Richie’s just using bad humor to evade, but he doesn’t say anything. Richie surprises him then, as though he has some sort of sixth sense and somehow knows. “We’d never leave you, y’know.”

Eddie turns and stares at Richie with wide eyes. How does he know?

“We love you, no matter what, Eds,” Richie keeps looking up at the ceiling. “I mean, unless you go all Zodiac Killer on us or somethin’.”

Richie turns and meets Eddie’s eye then, sees the questioning, half-scared look on his face.

“You talk in your sleep,” Richie explains.

“What…what do I say?”

“Uh…once you said, ‘guys, please don’t go,’ and ‘I thought we were a family.’” They’re both back to looking at the ceiling at this point. “You cried out for Bill once, during a sleepover.” Eddie remembers that night. Same nightmare, but he put up a fight then, trying to keep them all from abandoning him. Bill had awoken that night and sat up through the night with Eddie until just before daybreak. They hadn’t spoken of the dream, just sat in Bill’s living room and watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle reruns with the closed captioning on so as to not wake anyone else.

Eddie shakily exhales. Richie didn’t know. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed.

Would you still talk to me like that if you knew?

“I…I get scared and start to think of you.” Eddie blurts out, and wants to take it back as soon as he says it, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. He wishes the lamp wasn’t on so he could hide in the dark, but if he turned it off now it would be too obvious. Richie doesn’t respond for just long enough of a time for it to feel uncomfortable and Eddie debates taking it back, make a half-assed joke out of it, ‘cause your face is the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.

He opens his mouth to speak but Richie beats him to it.

“Is it true,” Richie says slowly, in this gentle, almost imploring tone that Eddie’s never heard him use before. “Do you think of me, too?”

Eddie feels like his throat is closing up, his face burning. His fingers twitch on his inhaler but he doesn’t dare lift it to his mouth. His head swims. “Yeah,” Eddie whispers. I think of you all the time, Eddie’s heart yells at him. I think of your stupid jokes and they make me feel better. Eddie refuses to say that aloud. Richie would never let it go. I always feel better with you here. What he actually says, however, is: “You…think of me?”

“Yeah.” Richie says breathily, like he’s in awe of this new information — Eddie knows the feeling — but then quickly recovers. They fall back into familiar territory like it’s a refuge. They won’t speak of any of this in the morning. “I think of this cute Spaghetti face and, poof, all better!” Eddie smacks Richie’s hands away as he tries to pinch at his pinkened cheeks. “Cute, cute, cute!”   

“Spaghetti face? Are you serious?” Richie just laughs and moves to ruffle Eddie’s hair. Eddie shoves him back as far as he can go until Richie’s back hits the wall beside the bed.

“Hey, Eds?”

“What? I hate when you call me that,” Eddie says instinctively.

“C’mere?” Richie’s turned on his side facing Eddie still, his arms spread open wide in invitation, looking hopeful. Eddie hesitates.

How could you let me hug you?

How could you let me sleep in your bed?

That little reassuring smile is back.

“I won’t bite,” Richie says, and makes grabby hands at Eddie, followed by a wink that’s a few beats too long. “Not unless you want me to.”

We’d never leave you, y’know.

We love you, no matter what, Eds.

Do you think of me, too?

Eddie takes a deep breath and decides to be selfish. He scoots across the small space between them and lets Richie wrap his gangly noodle arms around him, ignoring the fact that Richie’s still wearing the same outfit he wore the entire day before, and the way that he smells like old sweat and cigarette smoke.

If — when he tells them, he decides,  he’ll let it happen. He’ll face the music. Eddie’s faced worse things, right? But for now he’s going to pretend that none of it’s possible; that Richie’s right and they’ll all still love him regardless. For now, he’s going to let Richie hold him.

When Eddie falls back to sleep, it’s dreamless.