#i thought i was doing okay with ignoring the trash movie and my bitterness

[halinski]

✌

[unexpectedreylo]

TLJ Revisited

TFA did not blow me away when it came out in 2015.  As a long-suffering prequels fan I didn’t like the anti-prequel dog whistles in the months leading up to the film, I didn’t like a lot of the crazed fanboys gushing how it was the best SW movie ever and thank goodness they wrested it away from that horrible George Lucas.  I didn’t like that Disney took Lucas’s outlines and for the most part trashed them, which publicly made Lucas unhappy.  While watching the flick, I was like a bitter ex noticing every flaw of the new trophy wife.  The story structure was not nearly as good as any of Lucas’s six films.  It was too derivative of ANH.  And worst of all, I had a real yucky feeling about what this trilogy was all about.  There was a nihilistic subtext to the whole thing:  Luke failed as a master, Han and Leia failed as parents, and the only scion of the Skywalker clan was almost certainly doomed for death since he was a bad guy and killed Han Solo.  It seemed like a setup so that new heroine Rey would essentially take over the story.  I couldn’t understand why it seemed I was the only person who seemed to notice this.

Then, five years ago, TLJ came out and for two years I had hope, even certainty, that maybe I’d misread the trajectory the trilogy was taking.

Dammit, I hate being right.

That said, TLJ remains something of a slightly nicked masterpiece.  It is the best film of the sequel trilogy, that’s for sure.  I liked the film when I first saw it.  I was pleasantly surprised and well, we all know how I feel about Reylo.  Yet when I look at what I wrote about the film right after seeing it, it seems like I was still pretty tough on it.  I think in retrospect I was still annoyed by a lot of aspects of TFA and the story elements it introduced.  

So five years on, I thought I would take an honest reassessment of the film.  The good, the great, the bad, and the ugly.

First I want to address the perpetual controversy around TLJ.  The curious thing about TLJ is how much anger it still inspires, to the point of irrationality.  It’s one thing if it’s not your favorite SW film or if you didn’t love it.  It’s one thing if you have problems with it.  But I make no secret of what I think of TROS and I still don’t hate everything about it nor do I spend all of my time complaining about it.  It’s almost as though a lot of the narrative and characterization problems TFA raised were ignored when the film came out and then when they inevitably materialized in TLJ, Rian Johnson got blamed for them.  Luke exiled himself to that island for a reason and Johnson had to find a pretty extreme reason to explain why Luke would take that drastic of an action.  The Luke in exile thing was one of the few aspects of Lucas’s outlines that actually made into the movies; he was set to go Col. Kurtz regardless.  But angry fans don’t care about any of this.  They think Johnson is some iconoclast who’s just tearing down Luke because he can.  Mark Hamill’s public complaints about it didn’t help.  The rest of it was anger over dashed theories over where TFA was going to go next.  Really, it’s nuts.  Who gets this excised over a movie?  How does any honest person sincerely believe Rian Johnson is a mean, hateful person who only wanted to destroy someone’s cherished memories of Star Wars?  

Okay, on to the movie itself.

A lot of what I still find flawed about the film comes from what was flawed about TFA.  The whole galactic set up made no sense to me and while Jason Fry’s TLJ book explains it to some degree, that explanation is missing from the film.  Lucas and Co. were great at worldbuilding while telling a story about a core of characters at the same time.  The sequel guys, not so much.  It’s just Empire vs. Rebels 2.0 without going into the how's or why's.  It still makes little sense to me is Luke saying he didn’t want to be found, he just wanted to live out his days on Ahch-To, yet there’s a map to find him.   

Another problem is how TLJ picks up immediately after TFA.  Johnson didn’t really have much of a choice because of how TFA ended.  So unlike the other SW films, there’s no narrative “breathing” room with this one.  There’s no opportunity for the characters to grow or relationships to build or even for the characters to process what has happened to them.  Compare that with TESB, where you can see Luke being a committed Rebel or a blossoming relationship between Han and Leia.  Or with AOTC, where Obi-Wan has been master to padawan Anakin for 10 years and Padme has become a senator.  I think that serves the Star Wars story better.  This way makes the ST feel like a movie adaptation of a really long book they broke into two or three parts.  And because Johnson had no idea what they were going to do in IX, his hand was forced to put everyone still alive back in their corners at the end of the film.

If I wasn’t going to include more of Rey and Kylo Ren, I would’ve included less of the rest of crew with the exception of Rey’s scenes with Luke.  Simply put, Reylo is by far the most interesting aspect of the sequel trilogy and TLJ’s scenes with them are so compelling it’s easy to lose patience with the other threads.  I don’t mind the Canto Bight stuff or Poe’s catfight with Holdo.  I love Rose.  But there seems to be a requirement that every sequel film must firmly focus on the Rebels because that’s who we’re cheering for.  The problem is that in TLJ, you have two elder Skywalkers with a smaller role and their only scion is “the bad guy” who has less screen time than any of the major heroes.  This continued the problem I had with TFA, that the Skywalkers were kind of side characters in their own saga.  Johnson tries to take Finn and Poe and craft actual story arcs for them but it was always a little unclear as to what their role was in the bigger scheme of things.  I guess we’re supposed to understand Poe is something of Leia’s heir apparent in the Rebel leadership but he’s also the house flyboy.  As I posted in my original review, Poe is Wedge Antilles with a bigger role.  Finn has a kinda clingy relationship with Rey and this bromance with Poe but he has no real connection with Luke, Leia, or Han.  There are good things about his arc in this movie but it doesn’t answer the question, what’s he doing there?  What does he bring to the table?  I wish they’d kept the stormtrooper rebellion in this film or in TROS.  And there’s no indication at all he has any affinity for the Force.  There seems to have been insufficient communication all around as to who these characters are, what they’re supposed to be doing or what they're supposed to become.

I’ll never understand why the sequels avoided any “alien” seen in episodes I-VI like the plague.  I never found the designs in the ST to be anywhere near as good, even factoring in the Rick Baker masks in ANH.

And if I may be so nitpicky, I don’t like the use of “big ass door.”  It seems too much our world, not the GFFA.

Finally, I find it interesting that after noting both sides use war profiteers and Rose delivers an eat the rich (profiteer) speech about Canto Bight, we got a might makes right conclusion where it’s all about kicking the bad guy’s butt.  The war’s on, baby!  Look, if your message is the bad guys are evil and it’s a cancer that needs to be removed from the galaxy, stick with that.  The other stuff is kind of a distraction that ultimately doesn’t mean anything to the narrative.

Okay, on to what I like/love about TLJ.  Namely, it’s a brash, bold, beautiful film that in a lot of ways was just what Star Wars needed.  I really worried this was going to be TESB Karaoke, and thank goodness Johnson had more sense than that.  It’s a movie that parallels TESB and AOTC with occasional nods to each film; Johnson understands the difference between homage and just repeating what some other movie did.  TLJ still feels like its own thing while adhering to the rhythm of the prior trilogies.

Johnson’s wisest decision was to get Adam Driver out of the Kylo Ren mask and take full advantage of Driver’s talent.  Sure, it probably made the marketing department mad but man, what a performance.  Today, I think that the timing of the film’s release and the trophy crowd’s disdain for Star Wars other than for the technical stuff, as well as other factors, hosed Driver out of a deserved supporting actor nomination.  Kylo Ren was popular before TLJ but this film turned him into one of the most memorable and complex characters in the nine film saga.  It also IMO made Adam Driver a bonafide star.

But Johnson is one of those “actor’s directors,” coaxing very good to terrific performances from his other cast members.  Daisy Ridley’s Rey in TLJ is absolutely luminous:  emotional, curious, occasionally funny, vulnerable, impulsive, compassionate, and in the heat of battle, feral.  In her scenes with Kylo/Ben, she meets him toe-to-toe whether as enemies or as allies with the hint of something else brewing between them.  As I’ll get to in my upcoming Reylo Heresies, I think we tend to forget that she commits wholeheartedly to Rey, which for a whole list of reasons isn’t an easy thing to do.  

Well, here’s another heresy for you...I think TLJ remains up there with TESB as Mark Hamill’s best turn as Luke Skywalker.  For all of Hamill’s kvetching and fanboy rage their hero was besmirched by that dastardly Johnson, Hamill did a great job.  Luke’s scenes with Rey are great and his cranky reluctance to embrace his destiny were well performed.  His great sadness at his own downfall and his wise wariness of a quickie conversion for Kylo add new depths to his character.  His final duel with Kylo is an amazing cap to his legend.  A lot of old fans like me were never happy that the ST set up our gang as failures and Luke’s behavior seemed a little harsh to me the first time I saw the movie.  Then through subsequent viewings it didn’t seem so bad.  I guess some fans never got over their initial shock.

Like I said, Johnson admirably sets up character arcs for newbies Poe and Finn while introducing new characters like Rose, DJ, and Admiral Holdo.  I’m happy to see Laura Dern in anything.  What a get.  Same deal for oddball Benedicio Del Toro as DJ.  Kelly Marie Tran got too much stick from idiots on the internet; her Rose is a delightful, charming character who teaches Finn what heroism really means and how to embrace something bigger than himself.  Domhall Gleeson gets some fun moments as General Hux, Gwendoline Christie drops by for a compelling final battle with Finn, and BB-8 is as adorable as ever.

This was Carrie Fisher’s last actual performance in Star Wars and there’s something fragile and vulnerable about her turn in this movie.  Few things can beat Luke’s reunion with Leia on Crait for pure poignancy.

Johnson also excels at visuals.  It’s a beautifully shot movie, whether its the harsh interiors of the Supremacy, Snoke’s red throne room, Ahch-To, or Crait’s salt plains.  The scene where Kylo and Rey touch hands is one of the greatest demonstrations of the need for connection and belonging I’ve seen in any movie.  I also love the part where Holdo goes into hyperspace right through the Supremacy, splitting it apart just as Kylo and Rey “come apart” and the Skywalker lightsaber is split in two.  I could go on and on about the many great shots in this movie.

Thematically, TLJ is very much in line with Johnson’s brand of populism.  While the Skywalkers struggle with the weight of legacy, Johnson elevates “regular” Rebels like Rose and establishes that Rey--everyone’s last hope-- is...nobody.  TLJ makes the case that anyone could come from anywhere and be a hero.  Even the “villain” could be heroic for a minute or two if he lets himself.

It also makes the case that the purpose of legends is to inspire those people in the first place.  This is demonstrated at the end of TLJ, unique among SW films in that it doesn’t feature the main characters in its coda.  A slave kid on Canto Bight is inspired by Luke’s story, telling his friends about it as they play with their action figures, then holding up his broom stick like a lightsaber.  TLJ is unique in that it’s the only SW film to basically comment on SW itself.  

As for Reylo, I think TLJ accomplished two things by emphasizing and building upon their relationship.  One is that it made each character more interesting.  Prior to TLJ I found Kylo the most intriguing of the newbies but I wasn’t terribly invested in him or Rey until this film.  The other is putting them together opened so many possibilities.  It’s tragic in retrospect that TROS didn’t take greater advantage of them.  Reylo isn’t just hot or sexy, it’s also mythic.

So that’s my look back at TLJ.  Stay tuned for the heresies!

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[local-space-case]

Bakugou Katsuki is Not A Loser

Word Count: IDK

Rated: T (mention of abuse, self-loathing, cursing)

AO3 Account: FerociousFerret (out here only posting first drafts on a whim why?)

When Bakugou sees the looming  silhouette of Endeavor at the hospital outside of Todoroki’s room, he thinks he feels a million emotions at once.

Some he’s familiar with like fury, annoyance, and the protective fire he venomously denies exist are the ones off the top his head. But there’s also fear. An emotion he’s embarrassedly familiar with. A deep anxiety clawing it’s way out of his chest while still somehow keeping a tight grip on his lungs. It commands he stay rooted in the middle of the bleach white hallways that even so quiet he thinks they must be louder than he is. He wants to say something. He wants to yell, scream, curse, kick the fucker out the goddamn window, but he can’t.

Until the number piece of human shit takes a step closer to the door.

“OI! You can’t fuckin’ go in there!”

It comes out like the nasty snarl he was hoping for. The pro hero glances at him with a look disdain before reluctantly taking a step away from the door. Bakugou assumes he must not want to cause a scene. Doesn’t stop the stubborn shit from arguing with him though.

“He’s my son, I have a right to visit”. His tone was clipped, formal, placating, like he was delusional enough to think Bakugou was going to lose this fight.

Bakugou Katsuki was not a loser.

“Last time I checked, trash belongs outside not stinking up disinfected air.” He lets his gaze linger on a door across the hall. “Besides, I don’t listen to losers.”

Endeavor seems to puff up like a pissed off cat. God, so that’s where Strawberry Shortcake gets it from.

He looks like he wants to beat Bakugou into the ground and Bakugou lives by the philosophy of ‘If it can crawl, it can brawl.’, so he’s up for anything this fucker has to offer. But he doesn’t, instead he closes his eyes and inhales like he’s having an fucking asthma attack.

“You shouldn’t insult your elders.” Endeavor says after a beat. Bakugou huffs a laugh.

“Or what? You’ll hit me?” It’s an attack and based on the way the hero recoils, he knows it. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows it because it was broadcasted on live television. It was like a car crash, so gruesome but you just can’t tear your eyes away until you see that everyone is okay.

However, like a car crash, it’s abundantly clear that no one in the Todoroki family is okay. But, Bakugou didn’t find out when the crash happened. No, he knew the truth deep down when he saw the unsteady swerves of one of the drivers who had the audacity to essentially give him first place at the Sports Festival.

Bakugou thinks about that moment a lot. Usually at night when he can’t sleep because he feels like someone’s watching him, he wonders what Todoroki saw that snuffed out the fighting spirit he’d paraded around before their round.

He’s young, but he’s not naive. Not anymore. He knows, undoubtably, that during their fight Half ‘n Half didn’t see Bakugou’s drive to win, he saw his father’s flaming fists.

He feels his usual scowl paint itself onto his face, “How does it feel knowing your entire family is afraid of you?” The older man doesn’t say anything, deciding that floor is much more interesting than the conversation Bakugou wants to have. The conversation he needs to have.

“Number One Hero, hah?,” he mocks, “You know, that’s really fuckin’ funny. That’s a hoot ‘n holler. You could be a stand up comic.” he gives a pause waiting for a reaction. He doesn’t get on.

“Too bad they don’t like sacks shit lyin’ around.” A pause. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, so tell me, how does it feel knowing your whole family is afraid of you? That you have no friends because you decided you didn’t need them, you only needed to be on top. Well,” a sharp bitter laugh echos through the hall, “congratulations.”

He stalks up to Endeavor and gets up in his personal bubble. He can see a blue eye trained on his own red ones. With a pointed grin, the blond knows he has the man’s attention now, so he keeps going.

“How does it feel knowing that you lost? And before you open that fuckin’ cavity ridden mouth of yours, you’re gonna listen and you’re gonna listen good.” Endeavor had tried to open his mouth to object because apparently the idea of losing something was getting to him. Bakugou could deal with this.

“How can you call yourself a hero after everything you’ve done? How do you do that? How do you sleep at night knowing that the so-called number one hero can save a civilian but fuckin’ torment his family?”

Endeavor is trying to ignore him. He can tell because his eyes are once again back to the floor. He won’t let him though.

“How does it feel knowing that, after all these years, even though you won, you lost.”

Bakugou is, and has always been competitive. He wants to be the best, he needs to be the best, because only the best people can be heros. He’d always adored All Might growing up, but not the same way Deku did.

When Deku saw All Might, he saw a beacon of hope, a peace bringer, an unstoppable force of nature. He saw a role model. A mountain of a man who was as strong as a tiger, yet gentle like a rabbit. Someone who uses their power for good instead of evil.

When Bakugou saw All Might, he saw a winner. A strong man who beat villains into the ground and obtained more money and praise than anyone else could ever hope for in a lifetime. He didn’t see a man, he saw a king who had kept a tight hold on his crown. He wanted to take it. So, yes he liked All Might for his position of power, but he respected Endeavor.

Endeavor may have been the number two hero, but Bakugou saw himself in him. He saw the fights on tv with the walls of fire, the punches, the yelling, he saw it all. Endeavor was not like All Might, he never backed away from a fight, never bothered to try and find a peaceful resolution, but he always won. He won with fiery fists and scowls and he didn’t smile for the press, he wasn’t fake.

Bakugou thought he felt hate for Deku, but now he knows better. This is hate. This feeling in his heart that’s screaming, hurting, burning.

This is hate.

This is hate because he can see his reflection in this monster draped in human skin.

He sees himself pushing Deku away because he thinks he’s superior, kicking, hitting, burning, screaming, he can see it all. He can see Deku become smaller and smaller and he remembers how happy it made him because Deku knew his place and that meant he won.

He sees Endeavor hitting his wife, screaming til he’s blue in the face at Todoroki, his siblings tear-streaked faces when they realize Touya is never coming home. He sees Todoroki’s determined expression flicker with fear before dropping to the ground like a rag doll. He sees Endeavor’s please smirk turn into a sour scowl because his son didn’t get first, he didn’t win. He sees Todoroki sitting in the main area while all their classmates pack up to go home for the holidays with raised hackles and paranoid glances at the slightest noise. He sees what once was Todoroki Touya on live tv telling the whole world his father’s sins and he wants to make him pay.

He sees the ambition, the anger, the low tolerance for anything that isn’t the best, the need to be the best at everything all the time but, Endeavor didn’t win, did he?

Endeavor became the number one hero because his rival fell, but he did not win. He was a martyr to the public, but a monster to his family. He was the monster under bed, the demons in their heads, the footsteps they should fear, and the man they should not love, but worship.

He took and took and took until his family had nothing left to give. He sleeps at night uncaring that his family don’t have a home they have a graveyard full of phantom memories of the lives they never got to live and the dreams they never got to chase. They get the ghosts in the mirror, a walking corpse for a body, and the perpetual state of mourning the love they’d never receive.

Then again, maybe Endeavor didn’t win or lose, because you can’t win a game you aren’t even playing. The moment he insulted, or raised a hand to his wife or children, he was disqualified.

Bakugou knows he’s no saint, but he’s not a loser. He’s worked hard to get his head outta his ass because he already loss. He lost his best friend and any dream filled nights that may have come to him. He learned.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, he glances back at the man he’d looked up to and respected for many years. A man he hopes karma kills as slowly and subtly as he had with his family. He huffs.

“Yeah, I don’t like losers. Now, go the fuck home before I call security.”

He backs away but doesn’t leave the doorway as the sack of shit made the right choice and shuffled away. Bakugou makes a noise of satisfaction.

The explosive blond glances inside Todoroki’s room where the staff drugged him up on sedatives and silently wills him to get better. He’ll never say it out loud, but they were friends, and he did care.

(He also fears, that maybe, the news is right about how insanity runs in the family and that maybe he didn’t chase Endeavor off fast enough before Todoroki lost it completely like his mother and brother. Bakugou hopes that maybe he finally did something good.)

The vibrating of his phone jolts him from his thoughts and he reads the notification.

Shitty Hair: hey bakubro we wanted to know if ur still coming to movie night

Shitty Hair: no stress tho!!! a lots happened so we get it if u wanna skip

Another huff of laughter, this time less bitter, escapes from his lips.

He allows himself to smile and tells Kirishima he’s on his way and that they better not start without him. Yeah.

Bakugou Katsuki is a lot of things, but he’s not a loser.

[dreaminae]

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

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

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

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

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

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

[marril96]

Out of the Woods

Chapter 2: Gone Girl

Characters: reader, Sam, Dean

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: An explosive argument leads to you running away and puts Rowena in danger.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​

*****

It was dark by the time you arrived at the cheap hotel (because of course it was cheap. The Winchesters' favorite flavor) Sam and Dean had booked adjoined rooms in for the four of you. The door creaked as you opened it, the knob wobbly in your hand; you had to lock it in order for the door to stay closed. The air was stale, reeking of dampness and cigarettes countless guests before you had to have smoked inside. The wallpapers, a sickly, mustard yellow, were ripped and peeling in places.

You hated this place. It only made you angrier at the Winchesters. At Rowena, for dragging you into this. At yourself, for letting her do it.

"You guys made up?" Dean asked. He and Sam were on the couch, a tiny thing that barely contained the two of them, looking over, for what must have been the hundredth time, crime scene photos on their laptop. Desperately looking for clues, for the smallest details they might have missed.

You gave a bitter chuckle. "As if." Not that it was any of their business, but it didn't hurt to indulge them. After all, you'd fought right in front of their eyes.

It was — sort of — their fault, but still.

"Got into another fight?"

Why did he care? If you and Rowena's relationship was so important to him, he and his brother wouldn't call all the time begging for help.

Some hunters they were.

"Why, she send me shit? I had my phone turned off," you said. It wasn't like Rowena to send nasty messages (she preferred to fight face to face), but it wasn't every day the two of you screeched in each other's face like banshees. Which was exactly why you'd turned off your phone.

That, and you didn't want the brothers spamming you with messages to come back and inquiries if you were okay, like they tended to do when ignored.

Dean looked back at you. Narrowed his eyes in question. Sam followed suit, expression questioning, hopeful.

A lump popped in your throat. Your heart jumped, startled. Those were not the faces of men curious about their friends' (well, sort of friends, in your case, at least) relationship.

"You didn't get here together?" Sam asked. Was that concern in his voice? Fear?

You almost — almost — didn't want to respond. "Why would we? I meant it when I said I couldn't be around her. I needed some me time."

The brothers exchanged one of those glances that spoke more than a thousand words.

Lips trembling, you uttered, "Isn't she here?" In the other room. Flipping through one of her enormous spellbooks. Making hex bags she never used. Sulking like she usually did after a fight.

"She… well…" Sam trailed off, eyes avoiding yours that tried to make contact.

"What?" you demanded. Ordered. Not in the mood for stalling.

He cleared his throat. "She went after you."

"Wha-she what?" It came out as a yelp; a squeaky, pathetic little yelp that would be embarrassing any other time.

But not today. Not now.

Sam was surely mistaken. Rowena hadn't gone after you. She couldn't have. You would have seen her. Heard her. Sensed her the way you always did when she was near, her magic radiating with the force of a thousand suns, rubbing off of yours, melting into it. You wouldn't — couldn't — have missed her.

"She said it was dangerous to be alone in those woods with the maniac we're hunting around," Dean said.

She didn't. She absolutely did not. She wasn't that stupid.

Only, she was. Because, no matter how mad she was, how impossibly livid, she would never let you get hurt.

As much as it pained her to admit it, as hard as she'd sworn against it, Rowena MacLeod was a lovesick fool.

"And you — what? You just let her go?" you spat, filth and venom rolling off your tongue.

"She said she'd be fine," Dean said defensively.

Of course she did. Rowena always said she was fine. Like when she woke up covered in sweat, or wept for no apparent reason, or stiffened at random, eyes blurry with tears. She didn't have PTSD. She was fine. Everything was fine.

She never quite came to terms with it, and you doubted she ever would. It was easier to pretend everything was okay, to put on a smile and play a happy role. It was easier to shove issues aside and refuse to acknowledge them. Doing otherwise would be admitting defeat. It would mean she wasn't in control. That her life, her body, her mind and soul, weren't under her command.

The mere thought of that scared the hell out of her — even more so than the nightmares of Lucifer.

"Does it look like she's fine?" you snapped, and instantly flared with guilt. It wasn't Dean's fault Rowena had gone off on her own. If he and Sam were to have attempted to stop her, chances were, they wouldn't have been successful. Your girl was stubborn. Headstrong. Independent. What she wanted, she did. What she needed, she took.

If anyone should be shouldering the blame, it was you. You with your stupid tantrums. With your whining and complaints, incessant, annoying, ridiculous. With your desires to protect her, which did nothing but put her into even more danger.

If something bad had happened to Rowena, it would be your fault.

"I'm sure she's fine," Sam said before Dean could utter a retort — sassy, no doubt. "Why don't you call her?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay," you said with a nod, instantly grabbing for your phone and tapping in the number you knew by heart. You would call her, and she would pick up, and the two of you would scream at each other again, and everything would be as it should.

It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four, five, six, and so on. Each ring made your heart jump higher, made it pound harder against your chest. A hammer devastating you from the inside, one slam at the time.

You hung up the call and called again. And again. And again. Nothing awaited you on the other line — nothing but the beeps as the seconds went on, long as hours, grim as the night that had befallen this small town.

"She's not picking up!" You couldn't keep the hysteria out of your voice. "She's not-I don't-I can't—"

"Maybe she's still mad at you," Dean offered. He didn't really believe it, it was clear as day, but he wanted to help. He wanted you to calm down. "You know what she's like. The woman holds a mean grudge."

"Right," Sam agreed. "Why don't-why don't I call her?"

"Well, go on, then!" you snapped.

Maybe the elder Winchester was right. Maybe she was still mad. Maybe she didn't want to talk to you out of principle, wanted to punish you for running off like a headless chicken. She did have a tendency to hold a grudge.

As did you. But, as angry as you were, you couldn't help the worry that crawled into your heart, nested in it, roiled and coiled like a parasite.

Silence settled as Sam pressed his phone to his ear. Seconds passed, horribly long. He swallowed a lump in his throat. His jaw tensed. Teeth grit tight.

"Nothing."

That one word — so simple, so lonely — was enough to throw you into hysterics. Your heart race. Hands trembled. Tears spilled down, drenched your face like a waterfall. For the second time today, you started sobbing so hard your throat hurt.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Sam said, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You shook it off. This was his fault. His and Dean's. If they hadn't begged for her help, none of this would have happened. You and Rowena would have been chilling at home, wrapped in a blanket, watching a shitty movie that she would trash and you would defend just to tease her. She would complain about being cold, and you would snuggle closer and wrap your arms around her — purposely tight so she would complain, and you would pretend you didn't know what she was talking about, and she would pout, and you would call her adorable, and she would deny it, and you would kiss, and the movie would be forgotten as the two of you got lost in each other.

But no — the Winchesters couldn't resist a chance to drag her into yet another of their messes. And then you walked away like a spoiled brat, and she went after you.

And now she was gone.

Because of them. Because of you.

"We can track her phone," Sam offered.

"Yeah, track her phone," Dean said in agreement, offering an encouraging smile.

You didn't return it.

Sam grabbed his tablet and started typing. "Let's see," he mused, eyes glued to the screen. A moment passed, then, "Got it!"

You wiped at your eyes with your sleeve. "Where is she?"

"In the forest." He squinted. Frowned. "Deep in the forest."

"Maybe she got lost," Dean said.

Right. It was a possibility. Rowena was a proud creature. If she got lost, the chances were, she wanted to find the way out on her own. Calling for help would be beneath her.

Maybe that was why she wasn't picking up the phone. She didn't want to admit that she was lost.

"Let's go," Sam said.

The brothers quickly grabbed their necessities — phones, the tablet, weapons. Dean offered you a gun.

You raised an eyebrow.

"For protection."

You willed your eyes to spark purple, just like Rowena had taught you. A display of power. A warning. A threat. "I've got my own."

"Suit yourself." He shoved it into his jacket pocket.

The forest was creepy at night. There were no chirping birds, no crickets, not even a rustle of movement — nothing but silence that gnawed at you, chilled your bones like a winter's morning. Sam led the way, following the red dot on his screen. Rowena's phone. Rowena. Hopefully waiting, ready to bitch you out the moment she laid eyes on you.

It would be worth it. Anything would be worth it, so long as you found her.

"We're almost there," Sam said.

Good. You were already preparing a lecture. You'd said you wanted to be alone, which was not an invitation for her to follow after you. Instead of giving you space, she'd gotten lost. Like a brat. That was sure to push her buttons, and she would say something equally rude, and you would fight all the way to the hotel, and then you would make up by morning, and tomorrow it would be as if nothing had ever happened.

That was the thing with you and Rowena — your arguments didn't last long. Not even rare big ones like this. You loved each other too much to stay mad for long.

"We're here," Sam announced, shaking you from your thoughts.

You frowned. Shined your flashlight as you looked around.

No Rowena. Nothing but overgrown grass and sickly trees.

Willing your trembling lips to steady, you said, "What do you mean, we're here?"

"The app says we are."

"The app is wrong!"

"It's usually accurate."

"Clearly not this time!" You spread your arms wide, gesturing to nothingness. "You see Rowena anywhere?"

"Maybe she's hiding."

"In plain sight? She's tiny, not invisible!"

"She could be using magic."

"I don't feel any magic."

"Maybe—"

"Guys!" Dean shouted, breaking up the exchange. "Check this out." He was hunched over a patch of grass by one of the trees, shining his flashlight directly into it.

You and Sam rushed to his side. Looked down. Blood froze in your veins at the discovery.

A phone laid amidst the yellowish blades of grass, speckled with dirt and grime. Alone. Abandoned. The screen shattered like a mirror.

Rowena's phone.

A reddish-brown stain stood out amidst the dirt. Blood, dry but still vivid, still bright under the light.

You gasped. Stumbled backwards, knees wobbly, weak. A helpless, banshee-like wail tore from your throat, and you fell to your knees.

And you cried and cried and cried, the only animal daring to make a sound in this dead, dead forest.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie​ @oswinthestrange​​ @songofthecagedmoose​​ @apurdyfulmind​​ @getthesalt-sam​​ @metallihca​​ @salembitchtrials​​ @jay-eris​​ @hellsmother​​ @elizabeth-effie​​ @shadowgirl-vsb​​ @rowenaswife​​ @wonderifshelikesroses​​ @xfireandsin​​ @liddell-alien​​ @hotdiggitydammit​​ @lae-lae​​ @darkhumorsblog​​ @angel7376​​ @cherrypierowena​​ @evil-regal-vampiress​​ @hellbentredhead​​ @angel-e-v-a​​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​​ @carryon-doctor-lock​​ @fangirlxwritesx67​​ @mintymarshmellows​​ @midnight-lestrange​​ @osterhagen​​ @impala-1979​​ @gracib16​​ @feelsandotps​

[kaweeella]

The Torment Doll

A fic series where the other members of Mankai experience the torment doll! If you have a suggestion for the next one, please let me know!!!

Warning for some mentions of blood (not anything all that serious)

~~~

“Watch it, Hack!”

“I’m trying but your stuff takes up so much space!”

“Next play you’re wearing a trash bag!”

“Hey!”

The rest of the Summer Troupe watch as the two fight. Muku is cowering with Kumon comforting him. Kazunari and Misumi just watch. They tried to intervene to no avail. Their argument is more heated than any others they had. It’s understandable, they’re stressed. 

Yuki’s designing some costumes for one of Tenma’s productions. They were scouted specifically. The director had seen and loved their previous works. It’s not surprising, they’re talented.

But now?

“Stop doing that, damnit!”

Now they’ve been at each other's throats worse than ever.

“Hey guys…” Kazunari starts in another attempt to defuse the situation. Another futile attempt.

“I have your measurements already so go bother someone else.”

“Fine! I didn’t wanna be here anyway.” He turns to leave.

“Tenma!” Muku tries to get his attention. He doesn’t and so Tenma trips on a spool and falls. Like just about any person who’s falling, he reaches out to grab something. That something is one of Yuki’s dresses. The dress does not help.

Everyone can almost feel the pit in their stomachs as they hear the tear in the fabric.

Yuki stands there blankly as Tenma gets back up, seeing what he did.

“Yuki I’m-”

“Get out.”

“I really didn’t-”

“I said get out!”

Tenma hurries out the door. The rest of the Summer Troupe watch. Muku hides behind Kumon, who’s still trying to help. Misumi shrinks back a little.

Yuki’s gaze snaps over to them, giving their cue to leave the practice-turned-design room as well.

Tenma sighs as he enters the living room, everyone looking at him.

“What?”

“Dude, we could hear the screaming from in here.” Banri says. “What happened?”

“He’s just being dramatic.” Guilt runs over Tenma. He knows that’s not true. Yuki works so hard on his outfits and to see one ruined… Tenma feels bad. But Yuki kicked him out before he could explain himself or even apologize, and this all is as important to Tenma as it is to him.

“So we should just ignore the loud threats of violence?” Itaru says.

“It’s not good to bitter like that.” Citron says, looking concerned.

“Bicker,” Tasuku corrects. “And he’s right. The Winter Troupe couldn’t perform at our best until we were all on the same page.”

“But we’re not the Winter Troupe, we’ve always fought and we’ve done just fine.”

“Maybe you’ve managed in the past, but it’s clearly gotten worse.”

“Whatever.” Tenma leaves and heads to his room. He’s going to have to deal with Yuki eventually. Even if they weren’t roommates, hell, even if they weren’t in the same troupe. They have to interact at some point.

Tenma thinks about that as he ascends the stairs, not seeing the little blue plushie on one of the steps. He steps on it, loses balance, falls, and hits his nose.

“Woah Tenten, are you alright?” Kazunari asks, going up to look him over. His nose is bruised, bent and bleeding.

“Ow.” He groans as he readjusts himself to a sitting position. “What is this?” He picks up what stepped on. A little blue plush doll.

“I don’t know, but I think Sumi might like it ‘cause it looks like a cat.” Kazunari pauses, thinking. “Or maybe Yukki.”

Tenma sighs when he hears his name. “I just wish… I just wish I could talk to him. It’s so difficult though.” After he says that, there’s a flash of light. “What was that?”

“I dunno, but let’s get your nose looked at.”

“I’m no doctor,” Omi starts, inspecting him, “But I’ve seen a couple of broken noses, and it looks pretty broken.”

“Great.” Tenma sighs. “Just another problem on the pile.”

“Here, I might be able to help, but it’s going to hurt.”

“It already hurts. Whatever it is has to be better than this.”

“If you're sure.” Omi grabs it and jerks it back into place. Tenma doubles over in pain. “Yeah that happens. It should start getting better in a few days.”

Great.

Tenma trudges up to his room. He sees the doll, still on the stairs. A few steps above it are stained with his blood. He only just found this thing and it’s already caused him so much trouble. And it’s gonna cause him so much more. But he doesn’t know that yet. He tosses it over the banister and goes up to his room.

It takes a while to get to sleep, with all the stress and pain. He does eventually but the entire time Yuki never comes back to the room.

~~~

After Yuki kicks them all out, he quickly goes to mend the dress. He can feel tears forming in his eyes, though he quickly wipes them away. Crying won’t help anything right now.

After some time Omi knocks and enters.

“Hey, you should get something to eat.”

“Not right now. Busy.”

“Is everything alright?” He gets a little closer.

“Peachy.”

“Well it’s just that we heard some commotion earlier, so we were worried.”

“Oh everything's just perfect.” Sarcasm heavy, he grits his teeth. “Just working my ass off for that stupid hack and his fucking movie and he goes and fucks it all up. I’m doing just fucking fine. I don’t know why anyone would think otherwise.”

“Yuki…”

“In fact I’m doing even better now that I don’t have an annoying asshole bitching constantly. No, I’m great.”

“You should really take a break.”

“I’m not doing anything until this shit is fixed.”

“Right, but you really should eat.”

“Later.”

“Okay.” Omi sighs before he leaves.

Yuki ends up not getting dinner. He ends up not leaving the room. He ends up not being able to fix it before his body gives out on him. He falls asleep kneeling by the mannequin.

But when he wakes up, he’s back in his room, on his bed, in his pajamas.

Tenma expects to wake up with the same pain he went to bed with, but that’s not the case. There isn’t any pain at all.

He sits up and rubs his nose. Not only is there no pain, there’s no swelling bruising or blood.

“What…” Yuki mumbles.

“When did you get here?”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” He hops down and sees something on the floor. “What’s this?” He holds up a blue plush doll.

“What?!” Tenma quickly jumps down and grabs it. “I thought I threw this thing away.”

“Well you clearly didn’t.”

“Yeah but I never brought it into the room.”

“Really? Then what’s it doing here?”

“I don’t know!”

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door. It’s the rest of the Summer Troupe.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tenma asks.

“Did you forget?” Kumon says. “We’re here to help out with your movie stuff!”

They’d done this yesterday. They went through intervals of helping Tenma rehearse to assisting Yuki.

“Come on guys!” Kazunari says.

Yuki sighs. He kicked them out, but thinking about it rationally he really could use their help. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Entering the practice room, three of them pause. It didn’t look like this yesterday. The dress isn’t ripped, but there’s… less of it. Yuki knows they made more progress yesterday.

“What happened?” Misumi is the first one to speak up.

“What do you mean?” Muku asks.

Yuki inspects the dress. “The rip’s gone, but so’s all the progress we made.”

“What are you talking about?” Kazunari goes to look at it too.

“How could you forget something like that?” Tenma says. “It just happened yesterday.”

Kumon thinks for a moment. “No, they look just like how we left them.”

“Hey, what did you two do yesterday after we left?” Misumi asks Yuki and Tenma.

“I spent all night fixing the dress.”

“Well I went up to be, but I tripped on this doll on the steps. It messed up my nose.”

“Really?” Kazunari asks. “But your nose looks fine.”

“I guess but- hey you were there for that!”

“I was?”

“What does the doll look like?”

“Uh, it’s blue and plush and looks a little bit like a cat, according to Kazunari.”

“The torment doll!”

“The what?” Kazunari has never been more confused.

“If you two don’t make up, you’ll be stuck in a time loop!”

“Wait if it’s just the two of us then how do you know?” Tenma has been more confused. Not by a lot but still.

“I just don’t question the Trianglien anymore.”

“So the days will continue to repeat until they make up?” Muku asks.

“Yeah. Tsumugi and Tasuku went through the same thing when they first got here, though I noticed right away because that day I went triangle hunting and I noticed them disappear.”

“But since you didn’t get to go triangle hunting you only noticed when we came in?” Yuki will never understand that man, though he supposes there are some things not meant to be understood.

“Right!”

“Well I hope you’re not expecting this to end soon. I’m not forgiving that hack for fucking up the dress. I spent all day and still couldn’t get it fixed.”

It’s true. Time and time again they burst out of their room in an argument, Misumi the only other one who understands.

One day they enter the living room whilst fighting.

“You guys! Bittering solves nothing!”

“Yeah, and your bickering is distracting… damnit.” Itaru swears at his handheld.

“Hell yeah.” Banri gloats, hardly paying them any mind.

“Why are you arguing so early anyway?” Tasuku enters behind them.

“The hack keeps messing everything up!”

“Cry me a river.”

“Oh my god, how about you just break your nose again!”

“You broke your nose?” Banri looks up.

“There was this doll on the stairs, that’s not important right now.”

Suddenly everyone’s phones buzz.

“The girls are fighting.” Itaru sent in the group chat.

“Dude.” Banri looks at him. “Poor timing.”

“Whoops.”

Misumi drops from who knows where.

“Guuuys… you need to stop fighting! This’ll never stop ‘til you make up!”

Tasuku pauses for a moment. “Have you guys got the torment doll?”

“Yeah, and the name doesn’t lie. This has been hell.” Yuki crosses his arms and pouts.

“Oh yeah, Misumi mentioned you and Tsumugi went through this too.”

“The what?” Itaru asks for those in the room out of the loop.

“He’s right,” Tasuku ignores them. “We couldn’t perform at our best until we got on the same page.”

“But we’re not you!” Out of all the repeated days, this one gives Tenma the most deja vu. “We’ve always argued and things still worked out.”

“Maybe it’s worked before, but it’s clearly caught up to you.”

Tenma groans. “I know, I know! I just don’t know how-”

“You can make up for all the lost progress by fixing the dress yourself!”

“I don’t know how to sew!”

They go on like this all day. The next day, Tenma has an idea.

“What if we just avoid each other all day?”

“Are you stupid? It’ll only stop when we make up.”

“I know, but just talking hasn’t helped anything. In fact I think it’s just made it worse. If we take some time apart to cool off we can talk with level heads.”

“That… is a pretty good idea.”

“Right. You work on the costumes in the practice room and I’ll rehearse in here.”

Yuki grabs what he needs and heads downstairs. Before the practice room, he goes to room 105.

“Taichi.” He enters the room, almost taking the door off the hinges. “You’re helping.”

Taichi didn’t waste any time getting up and following Yuki to the practice room. He knows the consequences of doing that on a normal occasion, and he knows this is a big deal.

The two sew in relative silence for a while, Yuki occasionally swearing when he pricks his finger.

“Is everything okay?” Taichi asks after a while.

“Peachy.”

“Oh, well, it’s just that…” He thinks over his words. “You seem really upset.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“The way you barged into my room, your tone, and you’re making quite a few mistakes.”

“I was being sarcastic, dumbass.” Yuki sighs. “But yeah. I’m in a bad mood. Get the kid a prize.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Tenma and I have been fighting and before you say it I know we fight a lot but this one… this one got more intense.” Yuki’s sewing quickens and grows more intense. “We were already on edge and then he fucked up one of the costumes.”

“Yuki-”

“And maybe I was overreacting, but this shit’s a big deal and he knew how important this all is.”

“You-”

“Son of a bitch didn’t even help in the first place. He just kept getting in the way.”

“Um-”

“And he has the gall to try and say it’s my fault- shit!” His sewing kept growing more and more sporadic, not only stabbing himself hard but messing up the stitches.

“Are you okay?!”

He’s not focused on his finger. He’s focused on the costume, now spotted with blood and bunching up a little.

~~~

Tenma goes over his lines for a while in his room. It’s not good. He can hardly focus. He keeps stumbling over his words.

After some time, he hears a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Tasuku.”

“Come in.” He sighs and drops his script.

“Are you okay? You haven’t left your room all day.”

“Yeah, just practicing.”

“I thought the rest of the Summer Troupe were helping you and Yuki in the practice room?”

“There’s been a change of plans.”

“What happened?”

“Me and Yuki got into a fight and I accidentally messed up one of the costumes and he got angry at me. I tried to say sorry but he just wouldn’t listen.”

He thinks for a moment. “I understand this can be frustrating, but just think about what Yuki went through in that moment. Something he worked so hard on, something that he loves doing so much and is the opportunity of a lifetime, ruined just like” He snaps. “That. From what you’ve said he’s definitely still partially at fault but can you really blame him for being upset?”

“No.” He sighs.

“You really should make up. You can’t-”

“I know, I know. We can’t perform at our best until we’re on the same page.”

“Precisely.”

“I’m trying. Trust me I’m trying.”

“Right. Well, I’ll be leaving now then. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Tenma’s left to think for a while. He can’t blame Yuki for being upset. Hell, he didn’t really entirely blame him when all of this started.

Yuki enters the room quickly.

“Yuki I-” He holds up a bandaged finger.

“We will not be discussing anything until tomorrow.”

And so they didn't; they didn’t talk about it until the next day, which technically is the same day.

“Alright.” Yuki hops down. “Now let’s talk.”

“Why couldn’t we talk yesterday?”

“I messed up one of the costumes and it would take too long to start over.” Yuki rubs his previously bandaged finger.

“Right, well.” Here goes nothing. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t take into account how big of a deal this is for you and how much time, care, and effort go into your costumes. I understand now why you were so upset.”

“Thanks, Hack.”

“You can’t even drop the insult for this?!”

“No.” He takes a deep breath. “But I’m sorry too. You were trying to apologize and I still freaked. I was upset and you’re right, it’s a big deal and I’ve been on edge the whole time, but that doesn’t mean I should have taken that out on you. And thank you for the apology. I accept it.”

“I accept yours too.” Tenma slimes. “Well, let’s get to it.”

The two of them knock on room 203. Inside the rest of the Summer Troupe are playing cards.

“Did you guys make up?”

“They were fighting?” Kumon asks.

“Yeah.” Yuki says, before putting his hand on his hips. “Now are you guys gonna help or what?”

“Misumi said there was a change of plans.” Kazunari sets down his cards.

“Well not anymore.”

The six of them head down to the practice room. They move around some of Yuki’s stuff to give Tenma more room and Tenma makes sure to not bump into Yuki’s things.

They’ll still have arguments. That’s just how things go. But now they understand each other a little better.

[thehollowprince]

How to fix THE LAST JEDI

Without Subverting Expectations

Aka: Fuck You, Rian Johnson!

Okay, first off, in my opinion, you'd have to change the ending of The Force Awakens with that cliffhanger. What they should have done was have Rey go on a quest or whatever to find Luke, using the map, which would point to - I don't know, an old Jedi Temple - which would have a clue to and older temple and so on and so forth. Have Rey be on a journey until she finally finds him, giving some breathing room to the story and actually allowing the First Order to "conquer the galaxy".

But, like I said, that's just my opinion. If it had to be kept in, here's what you would do.

Start the movie by continuing that scene with Rey and Luke on Ahch-To

Have Poe, not Rose, accompany Finn on the trip to Canto Bight (and make the sequence actually important to the plot)

Show Rey struggling with her anger/darker tendencies rather than just have her be a mouthpiece for Kylo's redemption

Devote time to showing Finn's Force-sensitivity

Have Leia die instead of Luke

Those are the five basic points that I feel if addressed, and addressed properly, would save this disaster of a movie.

Apologies in advance, because I'm going to break this up into five separate parts based on location, but they will sort of bleed into one another.

I. Ahch-To

So we start the movie by continuing that scene with Rey holding out the lightsaber to Luke, but instead of having a complete tonal shift between the two movies, instead of having Luke toss the lightsaber over his shoulder like a piece of trash, he takes it and turns it on. Have it be the emotional scene it was intended to be, maybe hearing the echoes of what that lightsaber had been through, ending with Luke's scream from Empire Strikes Back. He turns off the lightsaber and turns to look at Rey, the music is rising and an emotional look on his face.

"Did you find a hand with it?"

Rey, confused as hell: "I beg your pardon?"

Luke: "There was a hand with it, too." Holds up his cybernetic hand to show her. "Did you find it?"

Rey is obviously flabbergasted, not knowing what to say, until Luke smiles and hands her back to lightsaber, telling her to hold on to it for a while. He then trecks back down the mountain with her to the village, telling her he'd thought they'd forgotten about him. We see his X-Wing crashed in the ocean, and with him unable to repair it, he was stuck on the island waiting for someone to come find him.

He would see the Falcon and realize that Han wouldn't just give his ship away, thus leading to him finding out about Han's death at his son's hands and we'd get a scene of actual mourning.

After that, the arc on that planet would be pretty much the same, with Luke agreeing to train Rey while they wait - maybe there's a solar storm or something that prevents them from leaving right away. Luke trains her, and the message is still pretty much the same, except Luke isn't bitter and angry but more of a Yoda figure, trying to help but also slightly exasperated with her impatience and temper, telling her she reminds him of himself at that age.

II. D'Qar

I guess keep the Force-Skype calls but without the romantic subtext.

Also, no porgs. That was the stupidest part of this movie and was just there in an attempt to sell toys.

The Resistance would be in the middle of an evacuation, with Poe distracting the First Order fleet while the Resistance makes it to their ships. No "Hux's mom" joke, and no making Hux into a joke. After that, pretty much the same, with Poe trying to perform the big, heroic thing with his squadron of bombers to take out the dreadnought. Maybe his squad ignores his command to fall back in the hopes they can take out that ship. They lose almost everyone but they do take out the enemy ship, with the Raddus and the Resistance fleet jumping to hyperspace during the fight. The remaining ships in Poe's squadron also jump to hyperspace afterwards and catch up with the rest of the fleet.

Do not - I repeat, DO NOT - have Leia slap Poe, or even demote him. They talk, and she admonishes him for his recklessness and how he lost almost their entire fleet of bombers to take out a single ship when the First Order has hundreds more. She then dismissed him and talks with the Resistance High Command about what their next move should be in light of what happens while another officer approaches Poe.

This is where we would introduce Iden Versio (Janina Gavankar) from the game Battlefront II, a former imperial commando during the Galactic Civil War who later joined the Rebellion and had ties to the Resistance. Its not necessary to play the game beforehand, but if you wanted to, you'd get some insight on her character. She offers words of wisdom to Poe or consoles him about the loss of some of his comrades during the fight before he leaves. Maybe she tells him that Finn is awake and asking for him (wink wink, nudge nudge).

Instead of having Finn wake up by hitting his head and then walk around comically in a leaking suit with no one paying any attention to him, he wakes up in a bacta tank (like Luke in Episode V) with an actual medical person there to help him. Poe shows up and Finn's in just a towel or at the very least shirtless and in the process of getting dressed (y'all have your priorities, I have mine) and the two have a heartfelt reunion. Poe gives him the jacket back, having repaired it. Finn naturally asks where Rey is, and before Poe can answer him, the First Order attacks, having tracked them through hyperspace.

Big space battle with some (but not all) of the Resistance fighters being destroyed before Kylo shoots out the bridge.

Now, this is where I'm sure people are going to get mad at me, but I wouldn't have Leia Mary Poppins her way back into the ship before falling into a coma for the rest of the movie. Given what happened with Carrie Fisher a year before this movie came out, they should have redone this scene go have Leia die, instead of using old footage to try and keep her alive in The Rise of Skywalker. Yes, I would have been sad, too, but it would have worked better than what they did.

Also, have a scene where Luke feels Leia, his sister, his twin, pass on.

Somehow, they retrieve Leia's body and just put the pedal to the metal and try to stay ahead of the First Order, just like before. Vice-Admiral (maybe Senator instead?) Holdo is brought aboard to lead the Resistance and she immediately clashes with Poe and Iden, with her "do what the hell I tell you and don't ask questions" schtick.

Finn would explain that the First Order had been working on some kind of hyperspace tracker, and that they must have finished it. He's asked if he can disable it, and he's hesitant, but reasonably sure that he could take it offline if he could get to it, but its on the Supremacy and that he can't get on. Iden would tell him that she knows someone who has plenty of connections with the criminal underworld who might be able to help.

Iden: "General."

Lando: "Commander Versio, its been too long."

They get straight to business and Lando says he knows someone who might have the skills to help, and that they should be on the casino world of Canto Bight. Finn and Poe volunteer to contact this code-breaker while Iden stays on the Raddus, ready to take control of the bridge and jump to hyperspace once they have the all clear.

With Poe gone, it would be Versio clashing with Holdo, and we wouldn't have the other ships have their pilots sacrificing themselves as they run out of fuel. Have we heard of autopilot? Hello? Either way, just like in the first go around, Holdo is such an ineffective leader that Iden leads a successful coup against her when the time comes.

Also, instead of just Poe and Finn leaving, we'll have a few of the Resistance pilots take their hyperspace-capable starfighters and go try and get help.

III. The Supremacy

Backtracking a bit, we have Kylo going to see the Supreme Leader after the Resistance fled the first time (keeping in the smug Hux leaving at the same time) and Snoke scolds Kylo, calling him a child playing dress-up, and making him take off the mask. The emphasis on the scar is that Snoke won't allow Kylo to have it fixed, rather insisting that he keep it as a reminder of his humiliating defeat by someone who'd never even held a lightsaber before (Rey) back on Starkiller Base.

We then have him destroy his mask before he gets in his ship just as they catch up the Resistance, leading to Leia's death.

Also, like I said above, keeping in the Force-Skype thing, except instead of him whining about his his uncle tried to kill him, have him explain about his anger and how the Jedi don't want them to feel anything but rather to suppress everything until they're little more than droids. I want his attempted "seduction" of Rey to the dark side to be based on a twisted kind of logic and not emotional manipulation.

We're definitely keeping the fact that Rey's parents are nobodies who sold her to that junk boss for drinking money. That's the one thing I liked about this movie, the message that the Force belonged to everyone and not a few bloodlines.

Rey will eventually leave to go back and try and save the Resistance/save Kylo, but this time Luke accompanies her. Aboard the Falcon, she insists she can get to Kylo and bring him back to the light while she says Luke should join up with thr Resistance, to help them now that Leia's gone.

IV. Canto Bight

Finn and Poe land on the casino planet, except its Poe, not Finn who is dazzled by all the glitz and glammor. He should fawning over the money and everything with Finn being the one reserved about everything, remembering how these people were the ones who worked with the First Order and the New Republic in their endeavors, lining their own pockets at the expense of innocent lives. It would be nice for the narrative to remember that Finn was a child soldier abducted and inducted by the First Order, drawing parallels between him and the stormtroopers and the child slaves and animals they see on the planet - viewed as nothing more than expendable tools by those who consider them inferior.

The reason I want Poe here and for him to he awed by everything is to have him realize the horrors of war, like how Johnson tried to make Finn do. Poe is the son of two heroes from the Galactic Civil War, so he probably grew up on the romanticized tales of their heroic escapades and how they defeated the evil Empire. Seeing all of this, Poe realizes that war isn't all just epic battles and starts to see the true cost of war and not the idealized version that existed in his head.

Anyway, they find this code-breaker, who is just the DJ character instead of a completely separate (and totally irrelevant) one like in Johnson's version. They ask for his help and he says no, and either through Poe and Finn's park job on a private beach, or becausd DJ is revealed to be cheating, they all get arrested because they're assuming to all be together, and thrown into jail. Once in there, they explain again that they need his help and offer to pay him whatever he wants. He gets them out of the cell and then they get separated, with Finn and Poe ending up at the stables with the alien horse things (I believe they were called fathiers?) Finn manages to calm one down and Poe looks on, maybe realizing that Finn is Force-sensitive, even if he himself doesn't yet.

Destruction of Canto Bight!

They join back up with DJ and BB-8 and he agrees to help, in exchange for the ring Poe wears around his neck - his mother's wedding ring! (Maybe its made of electrum or cortosis or something really valuable.) After consideration, Poe agrees. DJ gets them aboard the Supremacy and they disguise themselves as First Order officers in order to get to the tracker. I'm toying with the idea of having Rose being a First Order stormtrooper who heard of Finn's defection and kind of admires him, revealing that the stormtroopers aren't just mindless killing machines. Parallel to Poe giving Finn his name, with Finn naming Rose. They eventually get there and its revealed that there is no hyperspace tracker, as they never got it to work.

The three of them are captured, but Rose is just taken to be another stormtrooper, and therefore ignored. Maybe Phasma even congratulates her on her capture of the "Rebel scum"?

V. The Raddus

Iden attempted the mutiny against Holdo, which didn't go according to plan. They manage to capture and subdue Holdo's loyal followers, while Holdo herself and Iden are engaged in a blaster fight on the secondary bridge. During this fight between the two, it's revealed that Holdo is a spy and traitor and that she's the reason the First Order has been able to track them through hyperspace. Iden runs out of ammunition or her blaster overheats and just as Holdo's about to finish her off, the blast is deflected by a green lightsaber.

He uses the Force to knock her out.

Luke Skywalker has rejoined the Resistance!

They board the shuttles and head for Crait, but with R2D2 staying behind after an emotional farewell between him and C-3P0 and Luke. R2 projects Leia's message from A New Hope, the "you're my only hope" message, except with it on repeat the audience will hear "you're their only hope".

Back on the Supremacy, Rey is brought before Snoke, who reveals he's the one behind her and Kylo's connection. While he's gloating, showing her the F.O. firing on the shuttles as they flee, Kylo kills him with Anakin's/Rey's lightsaber, but without telegraphing it for the audience through the entire scene. It should he more sudden and not something we saw coming because they focused on the lightsaber turning. Kylo and Rey then take out the guards (in a better choreographed fight scene).

Afterwards, Kylo offers her his hand and a place by his side, telling her he'd accept her for who she is. I personally like the idea of Rey succumbing to her dark side and joining him, hoping to eradicate injustice in the galaxy, like what she endured in her childhood.

In the hanger, Finn and Poe are being restrained while DJ is revealed to have sold them out before they even set foot on the Supremacy, opting to save his own ass. He leaves with his payment, leaving Finn and Poe to face execution. Phasma orders their execution to be by laser ax, as she wants it to hurt after her humiliation on Starkiller Base. Finn and Poe are forced to the ground and made to look at each other.

Now, this is just me protecting, but I thought Finn and Poe should have been in love, because I thought that's what they were hinting at. So for me, here would be where Poe tells Finn he loves him (another point where having a gap between the two movies would benefit, like so much else) and Phasma orders Poe to die first so that Finn can watch. Finn naturally struggles harder but is held down.

Back on the Raddus, Holdo comes to in time to see the ship redirecting itself to ram the Supremacy, being piloted by R2-D2. She screams "Noooo!", while back on the Supremacy, Finn screams as well, unleashing a wave in the Force just as Rey takes Kylo's hand and the Raddus plows through the ship and the First Order fleet.

The remaining members of the Resistance watch this from the shuttles as they get down to Crait.

Finn wakes up as Poe is dragging him away, the hanger in flames and the stormtroopers in disarray. Somehow, Phasma manages to rally her forces and opens fire on the two, forcing them to take cover. Once they're cornered, just as they're about to be executed, a stormtrooper shoots at Phasma, knocking her blaster from her hand. Phasma calls out the trooper's number and the helmet comes off.

"My name is Rose!"

Other stormtroopers also turn against Phasma, leading to a firefight between those loyal to the First Order and those who heard the legend of FN-2187. Maybe include Jannah and that stormtrooper Finn fought with in The Force Awakens on Takodana, who survived because I said so, and who was a comrade of Finn's. Poe is confused, but Finn takes advantage of what's going on to grab a riot baton, instinctively using the Force to drag it a few inches to his grasp without even noticing. BB-8 also takes over a walker and evens the odds while Finn and Phasma have their epic showdown.

No "chrome dome" line, just Finn facing off against his former tormentor. And instead of how it was in the movie, I think it should be like this deleted scene.

Have Finn shout out about Phasma's betrayal on Starkiller Base and have more stormtroopers turn on her, only for her to shoot those nearest to her before she calls Finn scum.

"Rebel Scum."

Poe sees the TIE fighters heading toward Crait and says he has to stop them. Epic kiss between Finn and Poe, with Finn telling him he'll see him down there. Poe takes Kylo's personal TIE Silencer and goes after the ships, taking them out before heading down to the planet.

Up in the throne room, Hux finds Kylo and Rey, and the body of Snoke, only for Kylo to wake up and assume the mantle of the Supreme Leader, ordering his general to send whatever fighters they have left to chase down and destroy the Resistance.

Rey may still be unconscious, idk?

Finn gathers those defected stormtroopers and they all board a Imperial shuttle or two and also head out to join the Resistance, to help evacuate becausd their ships have hyperdrives.

Down on Crait

Luke stands at the mouth of an old Rebel base and watches the approaching ships, confused as some of them seem to be firing on one of their own. He orders the doors closed and one of the ships manages to skid in before the door shuts completely. They open fire on the ship until they realize Poe was the pilot.

The First Order lands and sets up their battering ram canon thingy. No dog fight with the Resistance, with Luke talking them out of a sacrificial last stand. The canon cracks open the door to the bunker and there's a moment of hopelessness, before Luke gets up and goes out to "face down the First Order with a laser sword".

We have the epic fight between Kylo and Luke, except this time its in person and Luke obviously has his green lightsaber instead of the blue one. While he's distracting his nephew, the Resistance is searching for a way out the back, finding a natural cave system that will lead them out the back of the mountain.

Finn is on one of the shuttles with the defected stormtroopers and when they ask him what to do, he points and says to land there. They ask why, and he says "Just a feeling." They land and there's a hug between Finn and Poe before they convince the Resistance that the stormtroopers are on their side now. They all board the shuttles and Finn asks about Luke.

Kylo screams in frustration when it becomes apparent the Resistance escaped, even though their numbers are severely diminished.

That's when those ships that Iden sent out earlier come back with some reinforcements, including Lando, Maz Kanata, Wedge Antilles and even Hondo Ohnaka, who obviously wants to be paid. The Falcon manages to drive Kylo back and during the chaos, Luke escapes.

(Either that, or Luke pulls an Obi-Wan and allows himself to die in order to allow the Resistance time to escape, becoming one with the Force. IDK?)

Funeral for Leia somewhere, maybe Endor, with Luke (or someone) placing the dice from the Falcon in her hands before the pyre is lit.

"No one is ever really gone."

And scene!

.

See, I fixed the movie without really even changing the plot. Maybe I'll fuck around and do a fixit for The Rise of Skywalker, too?

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

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

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

[nooneandeveryone]

I know we shouldn't have to explain our triggers and just have them respected. Earlier today I mentioned media with schools and bad teachers are a no go for me.

I am worlds better than I was a few years ago, where the very thought of setting foot in public school used to give me a severe panic attack. It sounds like I'm being dramatic...but I'm not.

Again, I know I don't have to explain this but I want to... Some deeply damaging shit went down.

I was abused by my teachers mentally and physically for three years. That's kindergarden, 1st and 2nd grade. The severity of it was this, my mom checked me every night to see if they left marks. They were careful and didn't leave many. Most of my bruises could be explained away - oh they fell on the playground, oh they got in a fight with other kids.

you might ask, how did they get away with it, how did my parents allow this?? Well, friend, have you ever met an abuser?

They were careful. They knew they had the edge over the 4 year-old. They would simply say I was lying.

I was not lying.

So, this systematic abuse went on. My parents scrambling for every bit of evidence they could get their hands on. They talked to the school. A lot. My mom yelled at them a lot. My mom went to school with me as an observer. My god, those were the only days the teachers acted like human beings.

No, not every teacher in the place was awful, just the ones that choose to target me. I had a lot of fantastic teachers since, but all that brightness cannot mop up blood stains.

Now, the most infuriating part, relating to the lasting damage, it left me an outsider.

What I mean by that is, H*rry P*tter was a big deal. A lot of my friends were into it. I saw there was a ton of fanfiction. I saw people having fun. And I went, yay me too!

It was okay at first. I just felt mildly uncomfortable with parts. Then I saw the movies. Then I broke down crying in a movie theater. I know now my friends would've understood but at the time, I hid it. I just played it as not my kind of movie.

I went to the bathroom or I made myself perfectly still so it didn't look like something was wrong.

So I watched from the sidelines, glad people were happy but bitter I couldn't join. Imagine my surprise when people realized there was a terf at the center. It was like I was that one kid who sits alone at recess because they don't like running. The kid is suddenly joined by the entire track team.

Some part of me wonders, if I picked up on the awfulness underneath because I was used to that kind of hidden awfulness hurting me.

But, like I said, I'm better than I was full blown panic attacks are limited. I'm hyper cautious. but that brings me back to being an outsider...

I can't watch Str*nger Things. I tried. I nearly puked. It makes me mad. It looks fun and I want that.

There's a whole sub-genre of horror I can't watch. I can fucking watch some dude get disemboweled on screen but if it's a school building my stomach drops.

but thank god for anime. Because japanese schools work fundamentally differently than the ones I went to... I don't get the same gut punch. I'm still playing with fire though... I can only handle it if it's a supernatural thing. If a teacher is a murderer... well, in the trash that goes.

How I wish these things only made me slightly uncomfortable. Then I can enjoy the other parts of certain media and just ignore the other stuff.

All that being said, before Covid hit I had been improving to the point I was able to look after children in a school-like setting. Previously, I was terrified I would somehow damage them in the same way I was. It didn't turn out that way. I got thanked profusely by some parents. Apparently their son was autistic. I didn't realize that, I just asked him about things he liked and let him talk. He likes dinosaurs, minecraft and mario, btw.

That's where my other anger is. What I want to do... really really want to do.... I can't. Not yet, anyway.

[megan-is-mia]

Killing Me Softly Chapter 3 (Poly! Abbabruno w/ Cop! Reader)

(Here’s more fuckers)

“And that should be all for today gang. You can all go home, I’ll see you tomorrow” Bruno said with a smile dismissing his crew for the day and watching them slowly filter out. Once everyone was gone he let his smile fall and his head loll to the side to rest on Abbacchio’s shoulder.

“Ready to go home mio caro?” Leone said running his hand down Bruno’s arm to gently grasp his hand. They had been through a stressful day, starting with an almost successful escape attempt by their girlfriend. Fortunately, they’d managed to stop her before she got anywhere and unzipped her legs from the knee down for good measure. However, her protests at being turned into an invalid quickly grew into a shouting match between her and Bruno that could have turned physical if the males hadn’t left for work in the end.

They’d both been to busy with paperwork and other matters to spare her a second thought all day, but now as the sun was setting (Y/n) was the only thing on their minds. Bruno was about to answer Leone’s question when his phone rang and he pulled it out to answer it. He listened to the voice on the other with a frown before finally hanging up.

“I’ve been summoned for a private audience with Polpo,” Bruno said glumly. “I wouldn’t be getting home until late. You go on without me and see how (Y/n)’s doing. I suspect she’ll be in a more agreeable mood after spending all day unable to walk” he added with a half-grin. Abbacchio frowned at the news but then nodded with a shrug.

“I’ll see you late tonight then?” Abbacchio said pressing a kiss to Bruno’s temple and starting to his feet. The black-haired man nodded and grunted affirmatively. They walked out of the building together before going their separate ways. Bruno to his meeting with Polpo, Abbacchio to go home and give (Y/n)’s some good cop treatment.

As he unlocked the front door of their apartment he half-expected the girl to try and attack him despite her missing limbs. Or that he’d see the results of her trashing the place in anger. It was all too quiet, and the quiet made him apprehensive.

“Moody Blues!” He said calling out his stand and having it dial back to replay what exactly (Y/n) had been up to since he and Bruno had left for the day. The replay began a few minutes after (Y/n)’s legs had been removed and just comprised a lot of cursing. He sped through this part until the curses stopped being words and had instead turned into mournful sobs. Abbacchio sped this part as well, hating the pang of guilt he felt from watching his girlfriend cry, even if it was really just his stand.

Eventually, (Y/n) had stopped crying and dragged herself to the bedroom which was where she was at the present time. Dismissing his stand, Leone walked over to the bed and gently shook the girl. No response, beyond the uncontrolled like her skin twitching and her breathing hitching.

“Hey mia cara, I’m home,” he said softly pressing a kiss to (Y/n)’s cheek. The girl tried to ignore him but couldn’t stop her cheek from turning pink from being kissed. “What you did this morning was uncalled for. You were a bit of a bitch, you know that? But it’s okay, all is forgiven and Bruno will restore your legs when he gets home later” Leone said kissing the other cheek as he caressed (Y/n)’s sides through the blankets. “Until then you and I are just gonna chill and veg out on the couch together” he finished before tugging down the covers and grabbing hold of (Y/n)’s hands.

“Now hold on tight I don’t want to drop you” Abbacchio ordered guiding (Y/n)’s arms and around his neck. He then slid a hand under her ass supporting her in the crook of his arm and wrapped the other arm around her back as he lifted her up off the bed. He carried her out of the bedroom and to the couch where he gently deposited her on the cushions. The albino made a pit-stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine out of the cabinet before plopping down on the sofa next to (Y/n).

“You’ll give yourself a bad hangover if you drink all that” (Y/n) commented with a small smile. Even though she didn’t have her legs she’d still managed to shuffle a bit so the arm of the couch was supporting her.

“You’re gonna help me drink this” Abbacchio replied with a smirk wrapping an arm around (Y/n)’s waist and pulling her close so she had to rely on him for support. (Y/n) made a small cry of protest at manhandling but couldn’t do much else. There was even less she could do as Leone retrieved the tv remote from the coffee table in front of them and the tv screen crackled to life.

“Whatcha feeling drama or comedy?” Abbacchio said as he flipped through the channels. (Y/n)’s eyebrows drew together as she thought before giving an answer.

“Comedy, my life is a drama,” she said quietly. Abbacchio’s grip around her waist tightened as he picked up on the implication behind her words but he did not comment on it. (Y/n) let out a breath she had been unaware of holding as Abbacchio’s hold loosened back to causally snug instead of a death squeeze.

“How does Zootopia sound?” The albino said his eyes darting over to the young woman. When his query was met with an affirmative hum and nod of the head he switched on the movie. He took a swig from the wine bottle before offering the bottle to (Y/n) who turned her nose and tried to pull away best she could. The corners of Abbacchio’s mouth drew down into a frown as he pressed the lip of the bottle lightly against the girl’s pursed lips.

When she didn’t open up he applied more pressure so that a red mark was left behind on (Y/n)’s upper lip and she began to tear up. He let up on the pressure and the young woman allowed her mouth to fall open to let some of the wine trickle in. Her face had been tensed up but suddenly eased as the liquid hit her tongue.

“I was expecting it to be more bitter like church wine” she confessed to Abbacchio’s bemused expression at her sudden change in tune. The albino’s frown disappeared and he let out a chuckle as he took another gulp from the bottle.

They continued like that as they watched the movie. Between cutting commentary about the film and going through a second bottle of wine (Y/n) grew more and more docile and playful like a cat who’d just devoured a bag of catnip. Enough so that by the time the credits were rolling Abbacchio was contending with a giggly mess of a girl wriggling in his lap like a fish.

“Quit fidgeting or you might fall” Abbacchio chided even though his grip around (Y/n)’s waist made sure that wouldn’t happen.

“I can’t help it, I’m all itchy” (Y/n) whined continuing to fidget and grinning up at the albino with her cheeks flushed a vibrant pink. Abbacchio turned her around in his lap so she was facing him and could lean forward against him for support.

“Itchy? Have you not been taking showers like you’re supposed to?” he said pressing his nose against (Y/n)’s neck and breathing deeply. She didn’t smell dirty, if anything he could only detect a faint scent of vanilla clinging to her skin.

“Not that kinda itch, I gotta itch between my legs” (Y/n) mumbled so quietly that if Leone hadn’t been already leaning in close he wouldn’t have heard her words at all. It didn’t take long for her words to sink in and for a smirk to spread across Abbacchio’s face as he carried her to the bedroom to take care of her itch.

(Y/n) tried to undo her top as she was set on the bed but her fingers felt like sausages and couldn’t even get one button out of its hole. She looked up at Leone with an imploring look letting her arms fall to the side and tilting her head to the side.

Abbacchio let out a good-natured chuckle as he pressed a kiss against (Y/n)’s temple and his fingers deftly undid the buttons on her shirt until the fabric slid off her shoulders to rest around her wrists. He then unclipped her bra, allowing it to slip down to (Y/n)’s wrists as well.

(Y/n) shook her upper garments off her wrists and onto the bedsheets. Normally having her chest bare to her boyfriend’s appreciative gaze would have made her want to cover herself at least a little. However that wasn’t the case right now, right now she was much more concerned with seeing the albino’s body than with her own modesty.

While her fingers had been to uncoordinated to undo the buttons on her shirt, (Y/n) was more than capable of pulling the laces of Abbacchio’s shirt loose so it fell off his shoulders. The albino did a small shimmy to free his arms entirely of the sleeves of his shirt.

(Y/n)’s eyes roamed hungrily all over Leone’s skin before she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her lips to his in a needy kiss. Abbacchio wrapped an arm around (Y/n)’s waist to keep her steady while letting the other dip into her shorts to palm her ass. The young woman moaned into his mouth at the gropes, crushing her tits against the albino’s chest and grinding against his leg.

This proved a difficult endeavor as without her lower legs to support her (Y/n) couldn’t hold herself up properly. She had to tighten her arms around Abbacchio’s neck to lift herself enough to hump his thigh like a dog until he finally took pity on her.

Lying back so his back was pressed against the headboard, Leone helped (Y/n) out of her shorts and panties in one motion. He watched her weakly try to get off rubbing desperately against his still clothed bulge before lifting her hips up with one hand while using the other to pull his pants and boxers out of the way.

(Y/n) tried to hump against the hand holding her aloft and whines quietly as slick dripped down from her cunt onto the albino’s stomach. It was a weird sensation, trying to kneel on knees that weren’t attached. (Y/n) didn’t have much time to ponder it before the tip of Abbacchio’s cock was poking insistently against her entrance.

With her arms braced on either side of the albino’s shoulders, the young woman began lowering herself onto the male’s cock. She took it slow, savoring the feeling of being filled at her own pace. Abbacchio’s hands rested on her upper thighs but did not push down, his nails lightly digging into her skin as he forced himself to remain still as (Y/n) sank down his shaft like a perfectly sized glove.

When (Y/n) finally reached the base of Leone’s cock she did not move again for several long moments as she caught her breath. Once she did start moving it was in a frantic bouncing pattern as she desperately tried to get her sweet spot hit. After a little while, the albino began moving his hips up in time to her hips pressing down and (Y/n) began to see stars.

It didn’t take very long after that point for her to cum with a high-pitched whine. She continued to bounce on Abbacchio’s cock, riding out the remaining tension she felt as the albino came as well with a growl. When she’d finally come down entirely from her high, (Y/n) flopped against Leone’s chest panting softly as she felt fingers card through her hair. A second hand also made its presence known on her lower back by tracing little nonsense patterns on her skin.

Feeling thoroughly worn out but satisfied, (Y/n) drifted off to sleep with Leone’s cock still inside her. When she next awoke, he’d pulled out of her and tucked both himself and her under the covers of the bed. (Y/n) felt miserable, her lower legs were still gone and now she had both a headache and a stomachache with the bonus of feeling sore from being fucked.

Weakly she rolled out of bed and onto the floor to crawl to the bathroom. She’d intended to merely try to look herself over and maybe use the toilet but her stomachache suddenly intensified. The next thing (Y/n) knew she was leaning over the towel bowl and vomiting violently. Her hair was dangerously close to getting coated in vomit before a hand darted forward to tuck it behind her ear.

When (Y/n) was finished puking up her guts she remained slumped over the bowl until she was pulled back into a pair of arms. One arm remained wrapped around her waist as the other trailed down her side to her thigh before going down to where her leg currently ended. A moment later (Y/n) could feel her toes again as Bruno reattached her lower legs but continued to hold her despite finishing the task.

(Y/n) let him hold her until she felt the need to puke again. At which point she jerked away from him to lean over the toilet bowl again. This time Bruno held her hair back and murmured encouraging words as she completely emptied her stomach.

“Well, it looks like you’ll be needing this sooner than expected,” Bruno said with a half-chuckle as he removed a small plastic package from his pocket and gave it to (Y/n). Squinting at the writing on the package, the young woman’s blood ran cold at the words on it: pregnancy test. She’d been off the pill for a month and every day she’d desperately prayed that her period would come.

However, it was starting to look like it wouldn’t be coming for nine months depending on the results of the test. Shooing Bruno out of the bathroom (Y/n) ripped open the packaging and pulled out the test. She followed the instructions before setting the test on the counter and waiting for the required five minutes to pass. When the time had passed she lifted the test with shaking fingers and let out a groan.

[allislaughter]

5 and 44~

“Why are you helping me?” Ty asks as the robot not even half his size tries to carry him and his twisted ankle to the nearest medical aid.

“Beats me,” XR grumbles, clearly displeased with himself. “Must be some sorta ‘no ranger left behind’ protocols. You ever thought about losing a few pounds, buddy?”

“Oh, haha, hilarious.” Ty winces as XR drags him over a particularly rough bump in the ground. “Really, the others should be nearby. You could just call them to carry me and save both of us the trouble.”

“Nnnngggcan’t. Communications are down and last I checked, they’re too far away to yell for help.”

“You sound like…?”

“What?” XR demands. “Like I’m the one who accidentally knocked out communications?” He laughs, though it’s obviously forced. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Oh. Alright, alright, stop. Stop right here.” Ty waits for XR to pause a moment, and he pulls away to prop himself up against a tree. “Okay, rookie, we’re going to play a game.”

XR blinks. “Not that I’m against the idea, but isn’t this a bad place to play a game?”

“We’re going to play a game of ‘wait in one place instead of dragging me and injuring me more until help arrives or communications come back online so we can call for help.’”

“Ugh. The boring game. I’d go for a game of cards personally.”

“Are you always like this?” Ty asks. “Is this the kind of thing Team Lightyear deals with on a regular basis? A sarcastic, immoral robot, a princess that’s tries too hard to prove she can be more than a princess, a farmhand who is too ignorant and idolizes heroes too much for his own good, and Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes-Thinks-He’s-Better-Than-Everyone himself?”

XR crosses his arms. “Oh yeah? And what about you? Ty Parsec, the bitter damsel in distress who has to be saved by Buzz Lightyear 50 times over and turns into a monster every time there’s a glowing green moon rock around? As if you’re hot stuff.”

“You think I asked for any of that?” Ty snaps in turn. “Half those times Buzz ‘saved’ me, I could have saved myself if he hadn’t jumped in to be the hero. The only reason I got bitten by NOS-4-A2 in the first place was trying to stop him from eating you.”

“And what good did that do?” XR asks, waving his arms in frustration. “You tore me apart!”

“I wasn’t in control of myself!” Ty argues. “I never wanted to be a monster, and I definitely didn’t want to be used to nearly curse the entire galaxy to the same fate.” He shakes his head. “If I knew what I was doing at the time, I never would have attacked you or anyone else on Canis Lunis. I still remember the way you taste, and that’s disgusting!”

“You what?!” XR gags and rolls back. “Ugh, Ty, my man, you cannot just out and say things like that. Really, I don’t know why I don’t just leave you here and go find help on my own.”

“Why don’t you?” Ty frowns. “When you clearly don’t want to be around me to start with.”

“I don’t know!” XR shouts. “You— You— You terrify me, let’s just say that. I could say something worse, but that’s good enough. We don’t know how many more of those moon rocks are out there, and I’m terrified we’ll run into one while I’m out alone with you and that you won’t be able to control yourself again and—! And why am I even telling you this?!” XR rolls up next to Ty and plops down next to him, arms crossed and glaring at the ground opposite Ty.

Ty sighs and rests his head on the tree behind him. The two of them sit in silence for a short while before Ty opens up his wrist communicator. “Still no dice,” he says.

“Thought so,” XR grumbles in return.

“……So. You, uh… Dealt with NOS-4-A2 a lot then, huh?”

XR winces. “Uh… Yeah. I— I probably was the…. First to… Was definitely his favorite chew toy, in any case.”

“It’s…” Ty pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes in deep. “It’s…. scary, isn’t it? Being under his control. Having that voice in your head telling you what to do and not giving you much of a choice to say no…”

“Oh, what would you know?” XR asks. “You— I mean…” XR turns his head enough to glance sideways at Ty, and he looks away when he sees Ty looking back at him. “You… do know… You do know, don’t you? Because of what… what he did when he…? And you…? And…”

Ty nods. “Yeah…”

“I… never really knew anyone else who… went through that kind of thing.” XR scowls. “I’m not exactly the average case for robots programming wise. No one knows just what the LGMs did during that whole Uni-Mind thing. Even XL is programmed differently than me. That’s something we can tell but never talk about. No other robots who NOS-4-A2 bit knows what it’s like. They just shut down and didn’t even know what was happening until it was over.”

“It’s like you’re dreaming,” Ty says. “But you know you’re dreaming but still can’t do anything to stop it, so you just let it happen until something sparks to motivate you to fight back.”

“Yeah!” XR nods enthusiastically. “And it’s like… it stops you from thinking you have a choice so you just roll with it even though you know you’re hurting people!”

“And it gives you positive reinforcement to listen, so you feel better about following orders…”

“Which makes you feel more like trash when you finally break free and realize it was all a trick and none of it was true!”

“You understand!” Ty grins. “I’ve been trying to get all this across to Dr. Animus for ages, but ugh, that guy is the worst. He rather just turn my experiences into a paper on robotic psychology or something.”

“I know, right?” XR laughs. “I never even bothered trying to talk to him about any of this! Not like most folks think robotic psychology is real anyway.”

“You know, I…” Ty shrugs. “I mean, if you ever want to talk about this more… I wouldn’t mind having someone who actually knows at least part of what I been through.”

“I—” XR shakes his head. “I mean… Maybe, but…” He taps his arm repeatedly. “Tell you what. XL, the other Star Command robots, and I spend Friday nights together doing whatever. Talking, watching movies, playing cards, whatever. Promise not to bring in any Canis Lunis moon rocks, and I’ll vouch for you as an honorary robot. Savy SL-2 out on the Junior Space Rangers already is an honorary robot too, though she isn’t supposed to show up because Junior Space Rangers have a curfew. Not that that stops her.” He grins. “You’d like her. She hates NOS-4-A2 just as much as you and I do.”

Ty hums. “I think I just might show up if my shift allows it.” He looks down at when his wrist starts beeping, and he opens up his wrist communicator. “Go for Parsec.”

“Ty!” Buzz calls from over the speaker. “We just got communications back up. Is everything alright?”

“I have a twisted ankle and need medical assistance. XR is keeping an eye on things so that we don’t get attacked by any Mardula Mud Worms in the meantime.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any Mud Worms anymore. But sit tight and we’ll be out to help you soon.”

“I’m counting on it. Over and out.” He shuts the communicator and looks down at XR. “Well… Thanks, XR. It’s… It’s good knowing there’s someone out there who understands.”

XR smiles, though he still avoids looking at Ty. “Just don’t try and eat me again.”

He smirks. “No promises.”

“Ugh!” XR shoves Ty but is clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re the worst!”

[littletonoemotion]

이 태민: The Moonwalker Pt. 3

Part 3 has arrived, though it was terribly late! I’m fairly certain that this will be the last part, unless people request otherwise. Thanks for showing this little fic a lot of love! It feels really nice whenever I log into Tumblr and there’s a new like or something. ^^ Remember! If there’s anything you want to see from me, I always have inspiration for writing and I’m always willing to take requests.

If you’re a little shy or nervous; literally don’t be. I’m multi-fandom trash, so I’ll write for pretty much every group and in pretty much every genera, style or whatever the heck you’re into. XD Enjoy!

“So, how many dates is this?” Taemin asked, sipping his espresso with a content smile, almost a little smug.

Je Kyo rolled her eyes. “Zero. A full zero dates.” 

“You’re so mean!” he whined, setting down his glass. “We’ve been hanging out like this for months!”

She shrugged. “Yup. We’ve been getting up at unholy hours to hang out just because you’re afraid of the dark.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark! I told you: it’s a condition. Like, a serious one. You wouldn’t want to see me like that.”

She gave him a look. “Sure thing, dude. Whatever you say.” 

He huffed, “You’re so difficult. But back to my original point! These are clearly dates!”

She shoved him playfully across the table. “In your dreams, pretty boy!” She settled back into her chair, a comfortable booth seat in a cozy cafe. She looked out of the window, admiring how the city looked with the sun barely up. “It’s pretty, yeah?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I am pretty nice.” She shot him a glare, making him laugh. “I’m kidding! Of course, I’m kidding!” He took a deep breath, composing himself. “Yes, it’s a very pretty view.” 

She smirked. Now was her chance! After all the teasing from the strange man that had walked into her flower shop a few months ago, she could finally get back at him. “Not as pretty as you,” she said, flashing him a winning smile. She topped it off with a wink. 

He froze for a moment. There were no witty comments, no rolling of the eyes, no awkward chuckles. Just him, sitting across from her, his cheeks dusted pink and his eyes wide.

Je Kyo snorted, narrowly avoiding hitting her latte when she collapsed in laughter. “Your face!” she laughed. She didn’t even care about people staring at her at this point. She was having too much fun. “That was priceless!” She pulled out her phone, snapping a quick picture. 

He pouted for a full minute before he finally spoke again. A smile made its way onto his full lips. “I win,” he said.

“What?” she asked, sliding her phone back into her coat pocket. 

He looked proud of himself. “I win!” he repeated. “This proves your undying love for me! You even took a picture of me, which, let’s be honest, you’re gonna be using as your lock-screen for a long time.” 

She dipped her fingers in a glass of ice water, flicking the leftover droplets at him. “You ever heard of ‘teasing’ or ‘joking’, you dork? That’s what that was—not a love confession! I swear, you’re so socially ignorant sometimes.” 

A few drops fell from his chin. “Sure,” he chuckled. He grabbed a napkin, wiping his face. “Believe me, you’ll fall for me one day—Je Kyo? Are you okay?”

She quickly shook her head, trying to draw herself out of her own all-consuming thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good,” she said quickly. “Just staring at something.” 

That, in itself, wasn’t a lie. She just hadn’t told him what it had been. 

She must’ve been seeing things, right? Things like that didn’t happen to normal people. A certain ethereal glow to the eyes, a glitter like sparkles or moon-dust. 

Though... 

She’d thought for months now that Lee Taemin was far less than normal.

.

.

.

.

The memory played in her head over and over again, like a song on repeat. So that’s when she’d fallen for him, huh? 

It wasn’t often that there were times like this in her life. Quiet moments that she could enjoy all to herself and roll her eyes at the cliche feeling of the whole thing. She always felt a sense of irony when she had a moment of peace, considering how rare it was. 

Though, her peace was different from most people’s. What’s new? 

When people think of calm, they think of sunsets and ocean waves, mountain tops and whispered ‘I love you’s, raindrops on windowpanes. 

For her, ‘calm’ was a glass of tea, bought on sale at the convenience store. It was late nights, warm days with cold breezes, and her son fast asleep in their home, unaware of how cruel the world could be.

She wanted to keep him safe from that as long as possible, or at least give him hope that things got better. But how could she do that when she barely believed it herself? 

Je Kyo stirred a spoonful of honey into her mug. The twilight looked rather lovely shining in through the slightly cracked window at the back of her apartment. 

Despite how pretty the scene was, Je Kyo had come to dread twilight for one reason and one reason only. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her beating heart and racing thoughts. She just wished her anxious feelings would go away.

But somehow, even though there were butterflies of unfounded nervousness in her stomach, she’d never felt calmer. In a way, she felt accepting of the strange feeling. 

She glanced back at Dongin, sleeping soundly on the rock-hard, dreadfully uncomfortable couch they called their own. A small smile graced her chapped lips. 

“You goof,” she mumbled even though he couldn’t hear her, lost too deep in the land of dreams. She walked over to him, wiping the corner of his mouth with her sleeve. “Drooling all over the place... Nasty,” she chuckled. 

There was a knock on the door, gentle and held with an easy rhythm. She opened the door without checking through the peep-hole; she really didn’t need to. “Tea’s in the kitchen,” she said. 

“Not even a ‘hello’?” Ah-In chuckled. 

Je Kyo shut the door behind her, careful to be quiet with it. “Sorry,” she said. “I just really want to get this off my chest. Preferably as fast as possible.” 

Her neighbor nodded, ever-understanding. “All right, then.” They both ended up settling down on the fire escape, not wanted to wake up Dongin. “So, what’s up?” 

Je Kyo took another glance at the sky, her headache worsening. She let out a heavy sigh. There was no backing out of it now, was there? “Have you noticed me acting a little strange these past few months?” 

Ah-In nodded slowly. “If I’m being honest... Yes. You haven’t really been yourself, though I can tell you’ve been trying to mask it.” 

She let out a bitter chuckle. “Guess it didn’t work all that well then,” she joked. She shrugged, taking a quick sip of her drink. “Well, what can I say? I tried.” 

“Did you bring me here just to tell me that?” 

Any trace of a smile left her face, but even then, she didn’t look sad. She didn’t look distressed, she didn’t look angry—she just looked numb. She didn’t meet her eyes, staring off into the distance, her eyes scanning over the cityscape. “Innie,” she started quietly, “I think I’m going insane.” 

A breeze rushed by them, blowing their hair and buffeting their thin cardigans. Ah-In’s hoop-earrings acted as a sort of wind-chime. Je Kyo almost chuckled at the added atmosphere. What a movie-like scene, she thought.

Ah-In stared at her. “What?” It was more of a gasp than a question. Not even a gasp, just a breath, lost in the wind like a wisp of lost time or memory.  

Je Kyo took another sip. “Insane,” she hummed. “You know? Crazy, mad, deranged, demented, unhinged, lunatic—you get it. I’m just not in it anymore.” 

“In what?” 

She thought for a moment. “Life, I guess,” she finally settled on. “For the past few months, I’ve been hearing voices and even though they freaked me out at first, now I’ve gotten used to them.” She chucked, tugging mindlessly at a strand of hair. “That’s not really normal, huh?” 

She dripped a finger in her tea, stirring the liquid slowly. The subtle warmth felt nice against her skin. “The voices have gotten more and more... Enticing, you know? Like they’re calling me towards them, and honestly, I barely have the strength to tell them ‘no’ anymore.” 

She looked over to her friend, a sad smile on her face. “You know, if it wasn’t for you and Dongin, I would just kill myself.” She could feel herself tearing up a little bit. She scoffed at herself, smacking her cheek a little. “Well, isn’t that rich? Throwing myself a little pity party over here.” 

The whole time, Ah-In had been gazing at her with thick emotion swimming in her eyes. Je Kyo expected pity or concern, but instead, she looked proud. After the initial shock, at least. “You’re not throwing yourself a pity party,” she said. “You’re finally spilling your feelings, and that’s a blessing.” 

“It’s a blessing for me to be totally screwed?” 

Ah-In shrugged, a smile creeping up her cheeks. “Maybe you’re screwed, maybe you’re not—but either way, you’re not dead yet, are you?” Je Kyo stared at her. “You’re obviously holding onto something, or you would’ve jumped off this building a long time ago. I saw you almost do it when you were younger.”

Je Kyo flinched at the memory. “Not exactly something I look back on fondly...” 

“But do you remember how you snapped out of it?” 

She brought the mug to her lips. “I kinda blocked it out of my life completely, so no. Please, enlighten me, though.” She started chugging the rest of the drink.

“You found out you were pregnant.” 

She paused, pulling away slowly. “That was the day I got the results back, wasn’t it?” 

Ah-In nodded. “Exactly.” She wrapped an arm around Je Kyo’s shoulders, rubbing her arm soothingly. “Which confirms my theory. I already knew this, but you care about other people so much more than yourself.” 

She scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking about? Since when have I—?”

“Forever,” Ah-In said firmly. “I’ve never seen you be selfish.”

She shifted a little. “Oh, shush... Flatterer.” 

“But despite that, I think it’s time you be a little selfish.” Je Kyo furrowed her brows at her, a question in her eyes. “I think the voices will go away if you do what’s best for you, for once. Not for Dongin, not for me, not for the future. Just for you, in this moment. 

This beautiful present that you never get to spend enough time in.” She turned to look at the setting sun. “Because... Despite how shitty people can be, ‘right now’ is actually pretty beautiful.” 

Je Kyo snorted. 

“Why are you laughing?” Ah-In whined. 

She covered her mouth, trying not to draw any attention from the people walking down below. “Y-you swore!” she said through muffled giggles. 

She crossed her arms. “You think I don’t swear?”

“Not what I said.” There was a pause. “But totally what I was thinking.” 

Ah-In gave her a light shove. “Je! I’m trying to help!”

She grabbed her friend’s hand. “I know.” She gave it a quick peck. “And I thank you.” She stood up, crawling back into the apartment through the window. “Can you watch Gin for a little while?” 

“What?” Ah-In leaned her head in, watching Je Kyo toss on her shoes and a jacket. “Why? Where are you going?” 

She opened the door, giving her friend and son one more look before stepping out. “To be selfish.” 

.

.

. 

Je Kyo sat at the bus-stop, kicking her feet back and forth childishly. The city was dark and quiet, it felt like she was the only one there. It was eerie, in a way. 

The moon was full and bright in the sky, giving minimal light to the dark streets. It was moments like these that made Je Kyo wish that the neighborhood council weren’t so lazy with their plans for streetlights. Yet... She wasn’t afraid.

She was prepared for anything that was to come. 

“Why’d you ask to meet here?” A familiar voice came. It was gentle and smooth and completely unmistakable. It was one she had, unintentionally, become quite attached to. “I told you that nighttime was a bit of a no-no for me.” 

She turned around. There was Lee Taemin, standing there with his hood up, hands in his pockets and full-length pants on. That basically confirmed her theory. “I asked you to meet with me because I figured it out.” 

He quirked an eyebrow. “Figured what out?” 

“You.” She stood up, walking closer to him. “I figured you out.” 

He backed up a few steps. “What’re you—?”

She tugged his hood off and pushed him into a patch of moonlight. Her breath almost got taken away. “I knew it,” she whispered. “You’re a moonwalker, aren’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.  

In the moonlight, Lee Taemin barely looked human anymore. His eyes shone with a sort of glowing opalescence, he looked almost transparent and his hair dripped with light, literally dripping onto his shoulders and leaving a trail in its wake. 

He was shocked at first, but his face quickly relaxed. “So you figured it out, huh?” 

She nodded. “Yeah.” She took in a shaky breath, putting her hands in her pockets. “I noticed.” 

“You don’t seem shocked.” 

She shrugged. “I’m more shaken than I seem, I promise.” She breath came out in thick plumes in front of her. Why did tonight have to be so cold? It didn’t help make her any braver. “I just can’t believe a moonwalker’s really here. Like, that they really exist.” 

He shuffled. “Are you disappointed?” 

She thought for a moment. “A little, yeah.” He looked at her, eyes wide. “I’ve been lying to you. Not for long. Only for about a month.” 

“...About what?” he asked. 

She sighed. “I’m seriously in love with you. But now, I’m just disappointed because I’m realizing that none of it was real. You’re just trying to take me away from my son.”

He shook his head. “No! That’s not what I—!”

“You only got close to me so you could feed on my loneliness, put voices in my head and eventually steal me away... You’ve been lying to me way longer than I have to you.” She hadn’t even noticed her tears that were dripping against the cracking pavement. 

She was more emotional about this than she’d expected.

He took a step forward. “Je Kyo, I—”

She cut him off, “I’m just sad because my on-going theory about humanity is being proven correct once again.” She laughed bitterly. “People suck. Big time.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Well, guess what?” She met his eyes, determination burning in her own. “I’m not going to let you take me away.” 

He sighed. He took a few more ginger steps forward. “I’m not... Going to take you away. Where did you hear that rubbish?” 

She took a step back for every step he took forward. “All the stories!” she snapped. “There’s never been a good story about you people! It’s all freakin’ gloom and doom!”

He kept advancing on her. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to believe everything you read?” 

She balled her fists. “My parents didn’t stick around long enough to teach me that particular lesson, no.”   

“I’m not going to take you away from Dongin. From your life.” 

There was an anxiousness growing in her stomach that only grew when her back bumped against a wall. They were inches apart. Not even inches. Mere centimeters. The strength left her. She couldn’t feel angry anymore. Just there. “...Then what’re you going to do?” 

His hand trailed slowly up her arm, giving her goosebumps and leaving his glow in a path leading upwards, the shape of his slender fingers. “Make you less lonely. That’s what it says in the stories, right? Do those damn stories ever specify how?”

She felt stiff. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Maybe she didn’t even want to. “No, I supposed they don’t,” she muttered. 

“We do it by giving you lonely humans what you’re lacking.” He paused. “Love.” 

She frowned. “But it’s not real. If it’s not real, I don’t want it.” 

He shook his head. His eyes looked somewhat pleading. “No, no, no—it’s so real, I promise! For most moonwalkers, yes, it’s done for the purpose of their existence, but you and me... We’re something special.” 

She looked away from him. “How am I supposed to trust you? Believe that this isn’t just because of your flippin’ otherworldly purpose?”

He thought in silence for a moment. “Because this is how I feel right now.” He brought his hand to her cheek. 

She flinched, but immediately relaxed against his palm. She didn’t know what she was expecting, really. She had thought that the glowing essence he possessed would feel somewhat cold, like the moon looked. “It’s very... Warm,” she said quietly. 

He nodded, trying to smile a little. “Very warm. Because I’m nervous.” 

She met his piercing gaze. “Nervous?” she echoed. “Why?” 

“Because of you,” he chuckled. “I feel like a child around you... I get so fluttery and all over the place, all I can do is tease you some days. All because I don’t know how to deal with myself.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “Some divine being I am.” 

He examined her face. So close to his. So tempting. “You know...” he whispered. “I’m sure if I kissed you right now, my knees would buckle.” 

Her cheeks felt hot. She didn’t know if it was because of his hand against her cheek or something else, but all she could do was shake her head. “Don’t lie to me, please.” 

“I’m not,” he said. He sounded so sincere. “When I first came into your flower shop, I was just there because of my instincts—because of what my ‘programming’, for lack of a better word, told me to do. But soon, when you took me to all those cafes and fast food places and thrift shops, I started missing your laugh when I wasn’t next to you. Your witty quips, your casual and hardworking nature, your dedication, and your smile.” 

She shifted her weight. “That’s... Specific.” 

He found himself leaning closer. “Do I need to list more? I have thousands.” 

“No, that’s... That’s quite enough.” 

His lips brushed against hers, making both of them shiver. “May I?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “The anticipation is killing me.”

With this one answer, she could make the decision for herself whether or not to be lonely anymore. She could have it all, if she wanted. Her son, her friend, her crappy job, her chill twilight hours and the guy that she’d fallen head-over-heels for. 

Would that be too selfish? 

Well... She came out here this cold autumn night to be selfish. Might as well go all the way. If it ended up breaking down eventually, that was fine. Even the brightest thing in the world, like the sun, sets at some point.

With a deep breath, releasing all the fears and tension and hatred she’d been holding onto for years, she whispered, “Hell, yeah.”

.

.

.

.

THE END   

[unforgetabelle]

A place to land

(4932 w)

ao3   fanfiction

Alya stared up at the flashing screen, her eyes repeatedly skipping between two different departures as the board scrolled through the day’s flights. One to St. Petersburg, the other to Vienna. Both left in thirty minutes, one headed where she should go and one where she wanted to go.

Resigning herself to the option she knew would win out in the end, she walked to sit in her terminal, took out her phone and texted Nino. Pausing only momentarily to gaze at the lock screen, a sunny picture of them both in Barcelona taken months before, she quickly opened up the messenger app and started typing.

How much longer are you in Vienna?

My gig is for another two weeks.  His reply took no more than a minute to come through and Alya smiled, leaning back into her seat. They were in the same time zone for once, but it was nearly 10 in the morning. There was only one reason Nino would be awake at that time on a Saturday, and it was because he was stalking her flight progress. Three years of a long distance relationship, each of them jetting off to often-times far flung places, and Nino still insisted on having detailed flight numbers and schedules of her travels. Without fail, he would track her progress until she reached her destination and called to check in. Her parents often joked that they never needed to worry about her travels because she had an ever present vigilante in Nino.

Her boyfriend wore the label with pride, and while she rolled her eyes at times, Nino was always quick to remind her of when she got stranded on a layover in southern India during monsoon season. Without cell service, and the wifi down, Alya had been sure she would be stuck in the country indefinitely, certainly missing Marinette’s line debut two days later. Nino, having tracked her progress, wasted no time in booking her a train north to an area where flights were not grounded and got her a one-way ticket to Paris. When a member of the airport staff had called for her and then proceeded to hand her a print out of the messengered tickets they received from Nino, Alya had never before been so grateful for Nino’s quirk.

With anyone else, his behaviour might seen crazy, but with Alya flying across the world constantly, to far off and sometimes to unfriendly regions, she knew it was his little way of looking out for her from afar. Besides, crazy was normal for them. And without Nino, Alya would have missed her best friend’s debut as a fashion designer. Without him, Alya would be traveling the word listlessly. She may not have an apartment as home base, but she had a Nino. He was her place to land, always. Her home, and she hadn’t been home in months.

The Austria flight was looking more and more appealing by the second.

Why? Nino texted again. She knew his schedule, so he (correctly) assumed there was an ulterior motive to her questioning.

How would you like an unexpected guest?

Alya held her breath, watching as his typing bubbles appeared on screen.

Depends. Is she a redhead? I have a soft spot for redheads ;)

Alya smiled at the comment. She’d known Nino for over a decade. He didn’t have a soft spot for redheads. He had a soft spot for her.

She’s currently veering dangerously towards a copper-head, she typed back with a grimace. Too much time in that Moroccan sun.

Alya grabbed a wayward curl, pulling it taut and nearly doubling its length. Morocco had been surprisingly humid during her time there and extremely sunny. Her mother would scold her SPF usage to see how dark her complexion had turned, and her hair, usually a subtle auburn, had lightened considerably. While she usually passed as brunette in most lights, there was no denying the decidedly orange turn her hair had taken.

A little more foxy than normal?

His reply came and Alya snorted out loud, drawing a bemused glance from those sitting near her. The word “foxy” took on an entirely new meaning between the two of them and Alya couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the reference. One halloween when they’d both happened to be in the US for work, she‘d thought it’d be funny to dress up and partake in the holiday. Finding a cute little fox onesie, she bought a box of temporary hair dye to match the orange color scheme. The hair dye, as it happened, was not temporary. Nor was Nino’s memory of the incident. Still, remembering him coming home to their apartment and finding her snuggled in the pajamas, with a matching turtle pair for him, was one she cherished. They leaned into the American tradition, watching zombie movies and handing out candy to the never-ending stream of trick-or-treaters that knocked on their door. Better to reminisce on the night itself than on the true horror that came days later when, her hair still orange, a bemused Nino fished the dye box out of the trash and read out her fate.

Choosing to ignore his bait, she responded.

Nothing a nice dose of Viennese winter won’t cure

Nah ;), his text came through with a wink. I’ll pass. Wouldn’t want to make my girlfriend jealous

Alya felt her face drop into a deadpan expression as she responded.

I think she’d be okay with it

I think she has an assignment in St. Petersburg for the next month, Nino shot back. If my calculations are correct, she’s on her way there right now.

Not if she changes course to Vienna

Alya

Nino

You are on your way to St. Petersburg, right?

She pursed her lips, looking up that the monitor that proudly displayed a departing flight to Russia, already starting to board, but felt her eyes wander to the terminal across the way. How hard would a ticket transfer really be? Would it hurt to at least check and see if there were seats available?

Yes, she finally texted back, resigned. But I could be on my way to Vienna. I’m in Prague. It’s a short flight from here!

Alya, don’t, his response came almost instantaneously and Alya felt a pout start to form on her face. Her boarding group was called and she reluctantly shouldered her bag and stood in line. Just to rub salt in the wound, she ended up directly behind a couple, arms wrapped around each other as they giggled at something on the girl’s phone. Alya’s own side felt dramatically cold watching them, but she tried not to be too bitter. How many times had she stood with Nino exactly the same way? Gushing over some comments on her articles or listening along to a new mix he’d pieced together? She’d inevitably laugh at something he said, triggering a chain of events so reliable she could set her watch by it.

His hand would squeeze her side. She’d look up with a smile. He’d place a kiss on the tip of her nose. She’d crinkle it in response and then frown until he gave her a proper kiss.

Someone else might call it predictable, but Alya called it tradition. They’re own little ritual. It had been over a year since she’d been in Paris and seen her family, almost a year since she’d seen Marinette, and four months since she’d seen Nino. She’d been so far from any semblance of home for so long. For someone many would consider rootless, Alya craved her traditions, especially with Nino.

We haven’t been this close in forever. Alya knew her whine would be easily detected through text, but she didn’t care. She rarely whined.  Not a needy person in general, the sentiment carried over to how she was in a relationship. It was a big part of the reason why she and Nino could be apart for long periods without either of them going insane. They found contentment in each other no matter the distance. Even the months they lived side by side, neither was attached at the hip, easily sharing their time while still remaining independent people over all. He was her complement in every way. They both valued their space just as much as their intimacy.

And when they were apart, even in the moments she missed him like crazy, she had very much a ‘keep calm and carry on’ attitude. They were solid, and he was only a phone call away. Their separations were always temporary, and as far flung as they traveled, home was always a call, or a plane, away.

Still, even the calm and collected Alya Cesaire gave in and whined every once in a while when she missed her boyfriend. Balance was the key to any relationship, after all.

Don’t you miss me? She asked, trying to suppress her smile as his response came immediately.

That’s a ridiculous question, the green dialogue bubble popped up, followed aggressively by two more. I haven’t seen you in months, the second read before being pushed up by a third. I missed you as soon as you stepped on the plane in August.

Then it’s decided. I’ll see you in Vienna!

Alya, no. You have to go to St. Petersburg. Nino’s messaged pinged as she handed her passport to the smiling flight attendant.You already accepted the contract. Isn’t this the story for that anthropology magazine you’re trying to work for?

Yes…

And you’re just going to, what? Not do it? Nino’s messages started coming in with a fury, but Alya was having far too much fun to break the news that she was already on the plane.

Alya Charlot Cesaire, he spelled her full name deliberately. Are you running AWAY from a story?

No. She typed back insistently, annoyance at his accusation pricking even as she knew he was baiting her. I’d be running TOWARDS my boyfriend

What happened?

Why does something have to have happened? She asked as she walked onto the already crowded plane, making her way slowly towards the budget seats in the back. A seat was a seat, and for a two hour flight, she was not paying a 150% markup for the promise of 2 centimeters more legroom.

Because Alya Charlot Cesaire does not run from her responsibilities, and she never breaks a commitment once made. Nino wrote back. How do you think I convinced her to stick with this travel weary DJ?

1.Stop referring to me by my full name, you weirdo. I feel like my mother is scolding me. Alya rolled her eyes, typing in her second to the list before stowing her bag in the overhead and falling into her seat with a plop. 2.Let me live my life

The last of her row to arrive, Alya sunk into her aisle seat and buckled up. Sharing a polite smile with her row mates to be civil, she quickly turned back to her phone to protect herself from opening up the floor for any airplane-small-talk--arguably, the worst incarnation of the discourse.  

And you’re stuck with ME, she added after Nino hadn’t responded in a few minutes. Which is why I’ll see you in Vienna in a few hours. BYE!

Alya, his answer came instantly, but she didn’t respond.

ALYA, he tried again. DO NOT GO TO VIENNA

Why :(, she shot back. I’ve never been to Vienna! It’ll be educational!

She saw his typing bubbles pop up, but didn’t give him the chance to interject.

I can even make a few blog posts about it, she wrote.Come on. Show me around your home of the last few months!

His typing progress appeared and disappeared a few times before his answer came through.

Alya, no, he finally responded, just when Alya started to worry she had actually managed to convince him. Nino appeared to be soft spoken to most people, but Alya knew he was as stubborn as she was once he made up his mind. For her entertainment value that morning, she was counting on it.

Please?

No

Nino :(

No

Pleeeaaassseee??? She added the letters to draw out her whine, and smiled when she saw his response hesitate.

...No?

Alya chuckled, mentally amending her earlier evaluation of Nino’s resolve. He was stubborn...until it came to her.

:D That was practically a maybe

That was my will weakening as I imagined your damn pleading eyes, he responded, And that stupidly cute dimple you get in your left cheek when you pout. Alya could practically see him now, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

God dammit, Alya!

Admit it, she texted back, smile on her face in full force now. You miss me

I have admitted it, he wrote back. In this very conversation, no less

She felt a soft smile come to her face, as she leaned back into the seat. The flight attendants were saying something over the loudspeaker now, but she was only paying attention to Nino.

Doesn’t mean I think you should come to Vienna

But, Niiinnnnoooooo

Stop. You have a job to do, his response came through, and Alya knew instantly she was dealing with serious Nino now. One after another, the statements popped up in her messenger.

You have contacts waiting for you

People you’ve been emailing for months in preparation for this

People who trust you

People whose story you promised to tell

Are you really going to up and desert them?

:( Alya texted back with a sigh, and though Nino had ended her fun, her heart warmed. He got it. He understood why it mattered; understood the compulsion she felt to explore the world, telling people’s stories. He understood her, even in the moments she really wished she could be the type of person to throw responsibility to the wind and go see her love.

Just two more months, he wrote, instantly consoling. We’re going to spend all of February together in Reykjavik. 28 whole days. You’ll be sick of me by the end.

Impossible, she wrote back. I will never get sick of you. Of that, I am positive.

Her neighbor opened the visor on the window, and a flash of gold on her finger urged her to add, And I have a ring on my finger to prove it

You have my class ring--which you stole--on your finger, his response came, and Alya imagined Nino rolling his eyes on the other end.

Same thing

Absolutely NOT the same thing, Nino wrote, taking her bait as he always did.(And when I offer you the real thing, you better act excited, and not like we’ve been engaged since uni)

It was an open joke with their friends and families about when the two would ‘settle down’. To Alya, it really didn’t matter. Nino was her other half, and everyone who was important knew that. She didn’t need a slip of paper or a party to announce that to the world. Nino, on the other hand, took the topic of their marriage very seriously. While he hadn’t proposed to her in so many words, Alya never doubted the inevitability of their marriage. The official commitment in the act was important to Nino, so whatever her personal feelings about the redundancy of it, it was important to her by proxy.

Nino, you’ve been stuck with me since lycee, she reminded him gently. Ring or no ring.

But , she added with a smile. I’m a fantastic actress and I promise I’ll give you your movie-magic proposal moment

Remind me how I ended up with you again? His response came, reading in a fondly exasperated tone.

Sheer luck and a bizarre zoo incarceration :)

Nino sent a smiling face back before changing back to the topic at hand.

How much time until you leave for PIE?

A few minutes, she admitted. I’ve been on the plane for a while

I figured

I still miss you. Next time, I’ll actually be getting on the other plane

If you had set your mind to come, there would be no stopping you. I wouldn’t bother to even try

Alya smiled at her phone,

Good, as long as we’re clear

Call me when you get there

Yes, sir

I love you

I love you, too, she typed.Even though you refuse to let me come tell you so in person.

Nino sent an annoyed face, but she wasn’t done.

I’m just so unwanted :(

Believe me, his response appeared. Nothing could be farther from the truth

Oh? Do tell ;)

His typing bubbled hesitated, before a wink emoji appeared teasingly on the screen.

Spoilsport, she responded, her eyes catching the flight attendant as she started to make her way down the aisle, no doubt beginning to instruct them to turn their phones to airplane mode.

It’s a good thing you’re so cute, she continued in a hurry. Otherwise I’d have tired of your antics long ago

Yes. Thank god for my devilishly good looks and charm

Who said anything about charm? She asked, blinking innocently at her phone as if he could see her facial expression through it.

My girlfriend. Do you know her? He wrote.Tall. Red hair. Loves to mock me?

Great ass?  She typed back, just as the attendant passed and gave her the stink eye for not heeding her ‘shut off and store’ warning.

The best

You lucky boy, she risked one last message, catching his response just as she went to switch off her service and the plane began to move.

Don’t I know it ;)

~*~

Nino looked at the monitor to confirm the flight one more time before finding somewhere to sit and wait. He let an exhausted sigh release from his body as he settled into the cool metal bench and let the familiar sounds of travelers calm him even as his fidgeted with the small ring circling his pinky.

Airports had always been a comfort to him. Even in his earliest memories, they were a constant. What started as multiple trips a year to visit family abroad had evolved into his roaming lifestyle, and throughout it all, airports were a constant. No matter where you were, whichever culture and whatever language, airports all felt the same. There was a familiar logic and atmosphere to the transit hubs, and Nino had always felt at home on these cusps between worlds.

In the last few years, airports had taken on even more meaning to him. They represented the worst and best moments in his life. So many times, in the stark fluorescent light and gleam of over-polished tile, he’d watched her walk away from him. His only consolation was knowing that months later, he and airports would once again be on good terms, because as many times as he’d watched her walk away from him, Alya would always walk towards him once more. Nino never had any doubt that she’d be back. Alya always came back to him, and he to her. No matter how long they were apart, or how far they traveled, they anchored each other.

People often viewed the depth of their relationship with incredulity. How could people who were apart so often truly have anything lasting and stable? Even his best friend looked at them with confusion at times. While Adrien was the last person to question their dedication to each other, he often wondered how Nino could stand being away from her so long. His dude was on edge after only a week away from his home and his wife. Nino and Alya’s far-flung relationship was probably Adrien’s nightmare, and a part of Nino understood where he was coming from.

He’d be lying if he said he preferred the long absences of his other half, but it didn’t throw him into anxiety like it did Adrien. Alya had a passion just like he did, both of them chasing dreams and music and stories wherever they called. It was such a large part of what made them who they were as individuals, sacrificing it for the sake of being in the same geographical location had always seemed frivolous.

And while they both had plans to settle one day--or at least, to control their careers enough to be vagabonds together--even if it stayed like this forever, Nino wouldn’t trade it for a stationary life with anyone else. A week by Alya’s side was worth an eternity with anyone else, and despite her teasing, he knew she felt the exact same way. Nino may not always know what city he would live in next, or when the music would call him, but if there was one thing he was forever sure of, it was her. Alya was his home. Wherever he traveled, he knew she held half his heart, a beacon guiding him to wherever she was should he ever find himself too weary of his roaming.

Which, currently, happened to land him in St. Petersburg.

When the owner of a franchise of clubs had approached him about a month-long gig in Russia the week before, Nino wasted no time jumping at the opportunity. His current location had certainly given him exposure over his months there, but he had tired of living his life with the constant possibility of being dropped from the schedule. They contracted him weekly, which wasn’t unheard of in the industry, but after being a regular for two months, Nino had expected some confidence to be reflected in an actual contract. It wasn’t. While he was prepared to finish out the three month engagement they had agreed on verbally, when he was offered the opportunity to move along two weeks prematurely, he felt no remorse about informing the club about his change of plans. He’d appreciated his run, and had secured multiple invitations from talent hunters of other cities while there, but the owners had never felt the need to formally bind him to stay the length, and therefore put their money where their mouth was. Which made it all the easier for Nino to jump at the opportunity that would take him to where he truly wanted to be. And to whom he truly wanted to be with.

A week later he was in St. Petersburg.

A gush of air announced the opening of the automatic doors leading out from the international baggage terminal, and Nino was instantly on his feet. The St. Petersburg airport wasn’t busy in the early afternoon on a Saturday, but Nino would have found her had she been one in a crowd of thousands. Hair knotted in a long braid that fell in an escaping tangle over her shoulder and rucksack secured to her back, Alya walked through the doors in a huddle of other passengers, nose already pointed at her notebook as she prepared for her next piece. As convincing as her promises to drop it all and come find him in Vienna would have been to anyone else, Nino knew better. Nothing could keep her from a story for long, especially not one she’d been preparing for over six months. A decade of growing up by her side, and nothing had changed that.

Which Nino was grateful for, otherwise her impulse earlier would have turned his carefully planned surprise into a unfortunate missed connection.

Nino smiled as he tried to catch up, watching her artfully weave her way around other travelers, eyes never once leaving her notes as she made her way towards the exit. Alya only stopped when the sliding doors opened and a rush of winter air reminded her she certainly wasn’t in Tangier anymore. Tucking her book under her arm, she reached to pull gloves out of her pocket, one falling behind her, directly where his feet had just come to rest. He snapped down to get it and was waiting as she turned to look for the lost article.

Eyes scanning the floor first, Nino tried not to laugh at the comical nature in which her gaze froze as they reached his boots--the same ones she’d bought him for Christmas last year--before shooting to his face. He didn’t even had the chance to speak her name before Alya was in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair as she wedged her face against his neck and Nino took his first easy breath in a month. Yes, they had no qualms about living apart, but that didn’t negate the fact that the shape of her pressed against him was something  his body mourned like a missing limb when she was gone. She wasn’t necessary, but his life was better when she was in it. Only in her presence, did he feel truly whole.

Just as he closed his eyes, savoring her nearness at last, the love of his life and other half of his heart pulled away and deftly punched him in the arm.

“Don’t, Alya,” she glared at him, her voice deepening in the approximation of a man’s. “You need to go to St. Petersburg, Alya.”

“Is that supposed to be me,” he grimaced, adjusting his glasses but not avoiding her gaze. Even annoyed, he didn’t want to miss a second of her.

“You’re a little shit, you know that? I can’t come to Vienna, but you can drop everything and come to St. Petersburg?”

Alya planted her hands on her hips, but didn’t move away when he stepped forward, grabbing her one bare hand and beginning to slip her dropped glove over her fingers. Her nails,  green the last he’d seen her, were now a muted orange. Still chipped at the edges. Always chipped at the edges.

“We both know, had you really intended to come to Vienna, I would have had an Alya on my doorstep, not one texting me what ifs,” he started, slipping her fingers one by one into the glove even as she pouted. “Besides, I was already here when you texted. You were about to ruin the surprise.”

“Because I love surprises,” she grumbled, but he gave her a pointed look. “Okay, fine. I like you surprises.”

He smirked, finally having the the glove securely on her left hand, Alya still completely unsuspecting.

“How about one more Me surprise?” Nino asked, lowering to one knee before her and watching as Alya’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Wha--Nino--”

“Alya Charlot Cesaire,” he began, trying not to laugh at the way her eyebrows shot up in surprise and eyes started to dart around the now-empty arrivals gate.

“Now?” She squeaked and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Now,” he confirmed. “I’ve spent too long waiting for the perfect moment, wanting to give you all the magic you deserve, but every moment with you is miraculous. Good, bad, near or far, you are the home I come back to time and time again. You make my life indescribably brighter, simply by existing. Would you do me the honor of calling me your husband?”

Alya’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she lifted a hand to cup his cheek.

“Dammit, Nino,” she whispered, a single tear tracking down her face as her lips tipped upwards. “I’m supposed to be the level-headed one in this relationship, and here you are turning me into a complete sap.”

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Of course, that’s a yes, you goof,” she rolled her eyes with a laugh, her hands grasping his collar and pulling him back up to standing. “Now are you going to kiss me, or--”

Nino wasted no time, cradling her head in his hands. His lips seeking hers through their pair of ridiculous smiles, and just barely managing some approximation of a kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he tried to grumble even as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Will you stop smiling? I’m trying to kiss my fiancé, here.”

“Oooo, fiancé?” Alya wiggled her eyebrows but held up her left hand. “Such a fancy title, and yet...I don’t see the hardware to back it up.”

Nino lifted an eyebrow, and, with a swift tug, deftly dislodged the very glove he’d put on her hand minutes before.

“Oh, no?”

Alya looked at her hand and gasped, her face dissolving into true shock now as she took in the diamond and topaz ring sitting in place of his old class ring. The same ring Alya had admired over a decade ago at the first family gathering he’d brought her to. The same ring his grandmother had given him when he turned eighteen...and reminded him to use yearly.

“You sneaky bastard,” she cursed, shaking her head with a smile. “You really did it.”

“Gave you a movie-magic proposal?”

“Made me fall even more in love with you,” she replied instead. “And people think I’m the overachiever.”

“I’m only an overachiever when it comes to you,” he grabbed her hand, still suspended in shock between them, and placed a kiss to her palm. “My fiancé is a hell of a woman. It takes a lot to keep her on her toes.”

“So what you’re saying is,”she walked her fingers up his chest as he stepped forward. “I now officially get an eternity of Nino surprises?”

“If you think you’d be okay with that,” he shot back.

“Okay with it?” Alya smirked, her hands having reached his chin to angle his face closer to hers. Her lips caught his in a searing kiss that shot through his body like molten lava, his knees slackening as her arms encircled his neck before she pulled away, breathless.

“I can’t wait.”

[phdna]

*arriving a month late with Starbucks and an uninteresting Endgame review*

This took me forever to write because work has been very intense lately, but I have thoughts I want to write down, for my own future reference when I’m an old woman looking back on my life, if for nothing else.

SPOILERS AHEAD, of course!

From whatever little I’ve been online since Endgame came out, it seems like the internet has been on fire swearing undying love, eternal hate and everything in between. I’m used to that because the MCU fandom has a tendency to be like that, but it feels like this time is more intense, which puzzled me a little bit, as it mostly adheres to the Marvel rules of storytelling, and people tend to not fuss over movies that do that as much as they do over movies that break the established MCU patterns. And then I did some reading and watching and talking and it just hit me that people aren’t reacting to Endgame itself, they’re reacting to the MCU. Both people who think it’s the best movie ever and people who think it’s absolute trash aren’t talking a lot about the movie, they’re talking about how the movie handled the end of this long journey that was the MCU. (Exception: time travel. I’ll get back to it in a moment!) I know I’m having a Captain Obvious moment here, but bear with me for a moment, I’m going somewhere with this.

Here’s the thing: as long as there are more movies coming, we can all overlook things we dislike about the MCU really well – “they’ll just fix it later,” right? Or we can fix it ourselves, even if we don’t write/read fics – the endless theories about what the next movies are gonna be about are in large part wish-fulfillment. Maybe next time Marvel will have more representation of all kinds, maybe next time Marvel will develop their female characters as much as their male counterparts, maybe next time Marvel will focus on this particular relationship that is either underdeveloped or so developed that it should get more attention, maybe next time Marvel will direct a character arc towards where I think it should go. But when the end arrives, we have to face that we aren’t in charge of the MCU and have sometimes wildly different expectations that what the Powers That Be have in mind. We have been emotionally invested in this universe for a long time – we bring the MCU with us in our lives even away from screens – and it sucks a little to realize that, ultimately, we are powerless to impact it. If Endgame was 100% everything you’ve always wanted for every single character and for the universe as whole, great! You’re still gonna mourn the end a little bit, but it’s cool! But if you feel like even one character of the dozens in the cast got the short end of the stick, you’re gonna be upset because don’t we all wish we could sit down with Marvel and teach them Why They Are Wrong About This Character?

I hope I’m not sounding holier-than-thou, like I’m being absolutely cool and adult about the whole thing. Hell no. I’d fight Kevin Feige in a parking lot any time, and have been ready to do that since huh… the MCU started. (Especially because the MCU has taken over the comics and I like 616 more than I like the MCU, so I’ve got beef with Marvel for that.)

So yeah, I have plenty of “What? No! Whose idea was that, that’s terrible!” moments, but I always try to focus on what I enjoyed more than on what I hated. Sometimes it doesn’t work and I get forever bitter, but most of the time, I make an active effort to 1) be grateful that WE EVEN HAVE GOOD SUPERHERO MOVIES AT ALL and 2) watch the movies I’m actually watching instead of watching the movies I think I should watch. For instance, I want to set myself on fire whenever I think about how un-family-like the Avengers are in the MCU, but since being a family isn’t a story the MCU is trying to tell, I consciously try to find something I enjoy about the constant conflicts, such as what they tell us about what each character believes, and how they keep coming back together to do the right thing despite their differences.

Arguably, that’s too much effort, and I get why some people want to be entertained and get upset if the MCU doesn’t deliver that entertainment – I mean, movies are supposed to be fun. But since I was a kid, I’ve always been a fan of imperfect things I have no control over, and I muddle through what I don’t enjoy to get to the shiny bits that give me goosebumps and keep me up at night feeling giddy over how good something was. It’s part of how I react to stuff I like by now. I don’t know, maybe it’s my History degree talking, but I don’t see what the big deal is with saying “Some of it sucks, some of it is brilliant, some of it has to be challenged on the ground of human rights, but overall I’m interested in learning more about it.”

Why the essay on how to engage with the MCU?

Because no matter how I think about it, my primary opinion about Endgame isn’t “I think it’s good” or “I think it’s bad” but just “I’m thankful.” That’s it. I can’t look at Endgame and see it as an isolated movie. I look at it and think “God, I was just out of school when Tony said I am Iron Man and now I’m a teacher and the MCU has always been there helping me keep track of the passage of time all these years.” Here, have a bad analogy: Endgame is when you finish a long travel and there’s nothing home to eat and you have to unpack and you’re exhausted and normal life is depressing and you have a headache and you’re frustrated that holidays are over and you didn’t do everything you wanted…. but that doesn’t make the entire travel a waste of time, does it? It’s actually the opposite. If the travel sucks, getting home is great. And very, very, very few people walk out of Endgame saying “Thank god this MCU saga is over, ugh, I was following it just out of obligation and I’m glad I’m free now” – I mean, there are people like that, and I can see why, but I also never finish things just out of obligation so I can’t relate. Anyway, mostly, people either expected more because the MCU is good enough to do better or thought this was the perfect ending. I’m both. Some things I loved, some things I really wish would be different, but mostly, I’m, like I said, grateful that the journey was so good that no ending would’ve fully satisfied me.

My biggest problem is with time travel. I’ve never liked the trope (not huge on alternate universes, either!), so I knew this would be a pet peeve even before I watched Endgame. I’m also surprised that apparently nobody involved in the movie can agree on how aforementioned time travel works. Fans certainly can’t. And I don’t think it’s a good thing if your audience is confused by a major part of your movie, even if there is a perfectly good explanation and the audience just didn’t get it. (Which isn’t the case, as apparently there isn’t a perfect explanation.) But you know what? I’m hand-waving it. It’s a convoluted plot device but it made a good movie, so like, whatever. Let it work in ABC way unless XYZ needs to happen, in which case, XYZ is how it’s always worked regardless of how ABC was used before. I don’t care. I’m taking what they say happened and saying “Okay, that’s how it happened” and ignoring the hows and the whys. It’s just bad comic book logic on the big screen, I’ve been rolling with this kind of thing since I was a literal child. Having said that, I don’t know what year it is in the MCU, I don’t know how Spider-Man will work, I’m not touching Cap’s time paradox with a ten-foot pole, and I’m not even gonna try to understand any of the timeline charts going around online.

My other major problems have to do with real life more than with the movie. The only original female Avenger dies in the same way the only original female Guardian of the Galaxy died, and neither of them get funerals but we do get the men in their lives suffering over it (which switches the focus from mourning the women to the men’s journeys.) Not sure if the joke was that Thor was clinically depressed or if the joke was that Thor was fat, but haha hilarious. The first openly queer character is omg a nameless cameo talking about someone we never see, isn’t the MCU so progressive? (The bar was so low that Marvel had to dig a ditch so they could somehow get lower than that.) Not loving the idea of “Thanos treated Gamora like shit but the Soul Stone recognizes he loved her” and “Tony’s dad was awful but Tony can Forgive Him” being presented as touching – it’s creepy af and makes me wonder if the MCU will end up saying Alexander Pierce actually cared about Bucky somewhat or something of that sort. Female hero team up: unironically loved it and want it projected on my tombstone (it was one of my favorite part), but it’s a little disturbing that almost none of them had much of a storyline in the movie because they don’t have much of a storyline in the MCU – it really highlights that Marvel has a boy’s club problem still. Now, none of these things make for a bad movie, it just reminds me that Marvel has a long way to go with they want to become inclusive.

Okay, now on to storylines…

Tony. Loved it. I love how the Russos direct Tony (I do have a problem with how M&M write Tony, sometimes, though, and always have) because they love to highlight how soft Tony’s heart is. Part of what makes the character interesting in any universe is that he’s willing to do morally shady stuff when he thinks he’s justified and he tends to think he’s justified because he knows exactly how smart he is, but if you explore this borderline antihero behavior without a deep commitment to reminding the audience that Tony is emotional and gentle, you end up with Reed Richards. 616!Tony will always be sweeter than MCU!Tony (even though 616!Tony’s dad literally tried to beat emotions out of him, while MCU!Tony’s dad more ignored him than actively tried to make him colder, but that’s besides the point) but Tony was so openly loving in this movie, and it helps make his death hit home, why so many people will miss Iron Man and Tony I pity Morgan a lot because she won’t remember her dad, but the only way to feel like the torch has truly been passed to other heroes was to kill Tony – keep him alive in any way and characters are gonna want his advice even if he stops fighting. I want to see how other heroes will protect a world without Iron Man. It’s exciting and brand new and feels a bit like when Fury said in 2008 that Tony isn’t the only superhero.

Steve. Let’s take the time paradox at face value and say everything goes well in every possible timeline and nobody suffers more than they would if he hadn’t done his time-heist thing, because I think that’s what the movie wanted to imply. I’m actually happy he got to be with Peggy. It’s not how I’d write him, mind you, but I always knew MCU Steve was being written as someone who is inherently out of place in the modern world. In the comics, Steve has a culture shock and he mourns people, but he finds a new family in the Avengers and truly becomes part of this century. MCU Steve was never that guy. And that’s okay, it’s a valid take! Not what I’d do, but given his storyline throughout the other movies, I think it’s a very satisfying ending that feels very organic. Saying “screw everything, I’ll do what I think it’s important” has been Steve’s constant in all movies, and it’s nice that he learned that he is important too, not just everybody else. Handing the shield was also very important – no “I think he’d want you to have it” to fuel conspiracy theories in the future: Steve made a good decision and that’s fine. (And I’ll cut a bitch if y’all keep saying “maybe Bucky had the shield before” because Sam can be a first choice fgs!!!)

Professor Hulk is a thing and I liked it more than I thought I would. Hopefully we’ll see more of him. I liked Bruce and I liked the Hulk, but somehow this version of him made me go from “Yeah, they’re nice” to “PLEASE TELL ME HE’LL HAVE A SOLO MOVIE” so good job in redeeming the Hulk franchise, Marvel! It only took you 10 years to get the right tone, but hey, what matters is that you did it!

Thor…….. Um. Hard. I liked his character arc but hated how it was handled. I’m not even a huge fan of Ragnarok because comedy isn’t my thing, but watching Ragnarok, I could see why the movie worked and the humor didn’t come at the expense of being fair to the character. Endgame felt more like the movie itself was bullying him. They’re laughing at his pain, basically, and it’s just not funny. It bothers me for the same reason it bothers me when people say pre-serum Steve should never leave home – just… no. But then, we got Thor and Frigga and I’d sell a kidney for more Frigga, so, it wasn’t completely awful. Just like, 90%?

Natasha!!! I hope everybody who said Scarjo can’t act paid attention to this movie, because she gave Nat a depth that we haven’t seen since CATWS, and even then, because it was Steve’s story, she was sidelined. That’s the Nat I’ve always wanted in the MCU. …and of course, she’s dead. Luckily, we don’t know anything about MCU!Nat, so we can still get prequels even if they don’t want to bring her back to life. It’s a little shady that she dies (why is it that the randomly decided death always seem to be randomly assigned to whatever the minority in a team is, huh?) but I love that she sacrificed herself for the greater good. It’s a heroic end to a woman who thought she was gonna be a villain her entire life. Oh, oh, oh, I have to say this: Natasha leading the remaining Avengers? Godtier. I’m not much of a fic person but I desperately want fics of that off-screen period where she’s being a boss.

Clint. MCU!Clint never did much for me, so I was impressed that I was rooting so much for him during the movie. I don’t know if he’ll just retire completely, but I’m hoping he doesn’t so we can see more of him in the MCU.

Okay, that’s the original Avengers and I’ve already written……. Too much. So I’ll stop – sort of – here.

But first, other random comments.

Fight choreography? On point, 10/10, would let Marvel beat me up to experience these sequences myself

“I am inevitable.” “I am Iron Man.” I cried so much the screen got blurry and I almost missed the snap. Thank you for this exchange.

I love and support Morgan, but I’m dreading the idea that in a near future, the MCU will get Riri’s entire story and give it to Morgan. Please, MCU, I’m counting on you, have Morgan grow up to befriend Riri, not to steal her role.

Nebula needs a solo movie. Nebula needs a whole cinematic universe, actually. What a character.

Speaking of which, GotG 3 is shaping up to be very cool

Sam being the one to say “On your left” in the movie where he becomes Captain America? Poetic cinema. Also! Sam Wilson is Captain America and both the human being who wants children to grow up in a better world and the geek who wants to see flying Cap in me are equally over the moon with joy

Bucky, my darling, the MCU hasn’t known what to make of you since 2011. It’s okay, Sebastian Stan will always do his magic and make you be Bucky even when Marvel doesn’t fully understand anything about your character

Pepper’s character development in 10 years is protagonist-worthy, I can’t believe how she always only has a couple of scenes every movie

Tom Holland should not be allowed to have crying scenes, they make my heart hurt

The movie feels a lot shorter than it is

There’s a lot more I could say, but I’m writing it on Word (tumblr sometimes eat my text posts as I’m writing them) and the wordcount is nearing 3k, so I better shut up. If you’ve read all of this, please treat yourself to a milkshake, you’re awesome. If there’s anything you want to talk about that I didn’t address (or just… you know, about Marvel in general), my ask and my direct messages are always open. I’ll probably take forever to get back to you (I NEED A VACATION ASAP) but I will eventually answer you and I don’t bite, so please go ahead if you’re curious about my not-so-very-interesting thoughts :)

TL;DR: Endgame isn’t my favorite movie (IM, IM3, CATFA, CATWS and BP all come first, sorry) but it’s up there in the “I can watch this movie a thousand times and I won’t get tired of it” list, and I think it does a fairly good job in ending the Infinity Saga, so I’m basically pleased!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Clover And Lace - Chapter 6

Happy Friday! I do hope you all are doing well. Me, I’m excited to be finishing up writing this series and I’m just as excited to share it with you all over the next 12 weeks or so. As always, thank you to @winterisakiller who has been more than valuable in the development of this series. 

For those who don’t know- Links to the prior chapters are in my Masterlist. If you can’t find it, give ‘kit’s masterlist’ a search. I do very much love to hear what you think. 

Rosemary let her head thump against the door when she heard his footsteps reach the bottom of the staircase. It took all her self control to hold her head up and not again thump it against the door as she listened to the sound of Steve’s footsteps go down the stairs. It was like as soon as the door closed behind him, her sanity returned and reality crashed down around her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to breath calmly. It felt like the walls were crashing down around her. He was everything she wanted and more. Tears dripped from her chin as a shaking hand reached up to touch her lips. They were soft and swollen still from the kisses they had shared. She was well and truly in over her head.

The sound of her phone vibrating in her purse finally drew her away from the door. At least she was lucky enough that Mrs. Jones hadn’t found her way up the stairs yet. She thought about ignoring it but she knew who it was calling.

Jillian had a special ring setting in her phone. It never had any sound regardless of what her phone was set to. Rather it just vibrated, starting strong and tapering off until nothing twice and that was it. Enough to get her attention without raising any red flags.

He would have known she left the house today and would be looking to know why. She didn’t really feel like getting into it with him. Yet if she didn’t answer he would worry for good reason. She moved around and hid not because she wanted to but because she had to.

It was better if she could never be tracked down. Within the underground world it was assumed that Julian was a sole operator. Rosemary herself was treated as a myth. Some people claimed to have seen her. Others claimed she didn’t actually exist. It was safer that way.

With a sigh she walked back to the now silent phone. It was still ringing inside the purse as she picked it up though the phone was now still and the screen was dark. Still she unlocked it and hit the call button and like magic a call was received from a cryptic contact labeled only as ‘J’.

“Hey.” Rosemary hated how defeated she sounded.

“You okay?” Julian seemed to pick up on the emotions in her voice right away and put the twenty questions on hold for a moment.

“Yeah. I’m just feeling… I don’t know.”

“Did something happen today? You went out.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know?” Julian laughed at her confused and conflicted response but sobered quickly.

“You sound like you’ve been crying?”

“Yeah I have.”

“Did someone find you?” Julian was probably pacing the secure room that was behind his office right now. It was where he often went to when they actually talked on the phone. They mainly communicated by texts that were wiped within an hour of being read or the text program being closed.

“No one found me.” She reassured him. That was a fear that lived just as much in his mind as hers.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I went to see a movie.” She admitted as if it was some dirty secret.

“And? Who did you go with?”

“Steve.”

“You shouldn’t even still be seeing him.” Julian scolds but she knows it is out of true concern for her well being.

“You don’t understand.” That was something she’d never told him before. “I’m always alone Julian. Always-”

“No you’re not. I’m always right here for-”

“No, Julian you’re not. You’re in the big city two hours away. And that’s the closest we’ve really been in the last five years. He’s kind and sweet.”

“And he could get you killed.” Julian heaved a sigh and she was sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose. Some old habits would only die when he did. “What about when he gets tired of you hiding things? What about when you have to just up and leave?”

“He said I could have my secrets.”

“For now.” She cringed because that’s essentially what he had said. She could have her secrets for now. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m not going to be found-”

“I don’t just mean- Listen to me, Rose. I don’t want him to break your heart. I don’t want you to fall in love and have to leave him behind. I just want to protect you.”

“I want you to trust me.” Never in her life did she think she would be pleading Julian for anything yet here she was with tears in her eyes while she fought to keep her voice steady.

“Rosemary.”

“No.” One deep breath. Two deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I swear I wont tell him anything. I swear if I have to pack up and leave, I’ll do it. But let me have this.”

Steve lounged on the couch, beer in hand as Bucky wondered out of the bathroom. His dark hair was a damp mess of waves and sweatpants slung low on his hips. Any woman would kill to have a man like him if not for a few tiny details. The lingering shadow of mental instability, history of murder and missing limb all very valid reasons to run the other way. Still Steve loved his friend like a brother and like a brother Bucky took an interest in Steve’s personal life even when he didn’t want him to.

“How’d it go?” Bucky’s voice carried well enough though the apartment for him to be heard even as he rummaged through his closet in his bedroom.

“Good.” Steve called back. “Then not so good. Then great.”

“What does that even mean?” Bucky came down the hall while pulling a shirt down his torso. “What did you fuck up now?”

“Nothing, why do you automatically assume I fucked up somehow?” Shock crossed Steve’s face.

“You’re the one that said things went ‘good, then not so good, then great’.” Bucky pointed out as he sat down on the coffee table that somehow managed to hold up to the both of them using it as another chair more often than not. “What happened and start from the beginning.”

Six beers between the two men and one long recounting of Steve’s somewhat odd day in great detail later, it was late and they both were tired. Steve’s head was tilted back, resting against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He was wholly done with the conversation.

“Look, I like her- okay?” Steve didn’t even look over at Bucky as he spoke. “I like Sara. A lot.”

“Okay, yeah. I get that. But she’s got secrets big enough that she tried to break things off with you before you’ve even started. And she won’t even tell you what they are.”

“So? It’s not like I’m going to marry her tomorrow or next week.” Steve reached down and picked up his beer only to find it empty and set it down again. It didn’t matter- it wasn’t as if he could get drunk off them anymore. Still, drinking them gave him a sense of normalcy he craved.

“Is her name even Sara?”

“I have no reason to think it isn’t. Anyway it’s not like she’s Hydra or anything.”

“How do you know that? Have you looked into her? What’s her last name?”

“Buck. She’s a small town artist who paints watercolors. She doesn’t eve own a car.” Steve laughed at the absurdity of the idea. “What ever it is that upset her it’s probably overbearing family or something.”

“Or maybe drug lords she owes money to? Maybe a husband she’s hiding? Maybe she’s the daughter of a Hydra official?”

“You do realize how crazy you sound, right?”

“In your line of work- can you really be too careful?” Buck stood, snagging his empty bottles and Steve’s off the coffee table.

“In our line of work its healthy to embrace the normal and she is just that, normal.” Bucky scoffed while tossing the bottles into the trash. Steve rolled his eyes before standing to face his life long friend. “If and when her and I get serious if she still doesn’t trust me with her secrets I’ll consider looking into her.”

“Man, I’m telling you this stinks so just be careful.” Bucky offered.

“Find yourself a relationship so you can stop meddling in mine.” Steve called out to his friend’s retreating back.

“Why are you pacing?” Bucky’s groggy voice cut through the morning air. “It’s not even seven.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Not about making a pot of coffee it seems.” Grumbling, Bucky set about making a pot of coffee since Steve clearly had other things on his mind.

“She doesn’t know.”

Bucky sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. It was too early for this shit. “Who doesn’t know what?”

“Sara and who I am.”

“How the hell does she not know who you are? Did you give her your actual name? You did, right?” Bucky watched intently as the dark liquid began to drip into the pot. It wasn’t filling fast enough.

“Yes I told her my actual name.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Bucky glared at the coffee pot. It was filling too slow for this conversation.

“She doesn’t watch much TV or pay much attention to the news.” Another trip across the living room and back was completed and the next was started. Steve still hadn’t slowed his pacing.

“So?” The pot finally finished and Bucky wasted no time in filling his mug. A generous splash of cream lowered the temp enough that he could begin sipping it.

“I told her I work in security.” Steve finally stopped, collapsing into a stool at the breakfast bar in front of Bucky.

“It’s not a lie, I guess.” A few more sips of coffee and Bucky was starting to think better. “I guess you can’t hold her secrets against her if you keep your own. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Because she was talking to me to talk to me. Not to talk to Captain fucking America.”

“Bitter over your title now?”

“No. Maybe, a bit. Sometimes? It’s nice to not have it be the first thing she saw.”

Steve hated to admit it but the weight of the title was heavy and the fans were tiring. He’d long ago given up on a social life outside of those he worked with because all he was ever seen as was ‘Captian America’ by the general public. He couldn’t blame them, really. In their place he would have been the same way in the 40’s.

“Why’s this an immediate problem that has you pacing at half till seven? She’s got her secrets so she can’t be too mad about you having one.”

“Because we’re going on a mission. We leave in the afternoon.”

“You didn’t think about leading off with that? Like, ‘hey, maybe drink some coffee and pack for work and I’ll unpack my drama on the jet.’?” Bucky grumbled as he downed the rest of his mug only to refill it.

“You’ve got a point.”

“How long we looking at?”

“A few weeks.”

“How deep?”

“Minimal contact but not a total black out.” Steve stood, knowing he needed to start getting his things in order, make sure the bills for the next few weeks would auto pay and he would have everything he needed and would want during the weeks away packed.

“You’ll at least still be able to talk to her.”

“Not as much as I am now.” Steve sighed. “I’ve got to tell her.”

“She’ll probably just worry if you do.” Bucky pointed out, coming around the kitchen island.

“True. But if something were to happen she’d never know.”

“Nothing ever happens.” Bucky offered.

“But if something did. Even if we end up having to go dark without warning- I don’t want her thinking I don’t want to see her anymore or that she did something wrong.” Steve was justifying his choice but they both knew he would tell her. His strong moral compass wouldn’t allow him to go on a mission for over a week and not tell her.

The ping of an incoming message drew Rosemary’s attention from her computer. She was tired and her back was stiff but today was a busy day it seemed. Her web of informants were providing a steady stream of information. Some of it was outright profitable, other things not so much. Yet most of it was useful in some way.

Steve: Good Morning, Doll. Sleep well?

Rosemary smiled. He texted her something similar most mornings though she didn’t realize it was in fact morning already. She managed to work through the night.

Rosemary: Stayed up too late painting

Steve: I didn’t wake you, did I?

Rosemary: Not at all. I’ve not actually slept yet. Oops?

Steve: Can I come by?

Steve: Or call?

Steve: Calling probably would be better. I don’t really have the time to drive out.

Rosemary frowned at her phone as she watched the string of messages come in. Something was up. Steve wasn’t acting or at least messaging as he normally did. He seemed nervous and that put her on edge. Was he going to break up with her? Did she do something wrong? Did he decide that the secrets were too much after all? Did he find out she wasn’t who she said she was?

Rosemary: Sure. Everything okay?

The phone started ringing a moment later.

“Mute music.” Rosemary ordered the computer as took a deep breath and answered. “Hey?”

“Hey Sara.” He sounded as anxious as he did in the texts.

“What’s up?” She tried to sound relaxed herself but feared she didn’t do a good job of it. “Everything okay?”

“I just… Look, Sara- I wasn’t completely honest with you before when I said I work in security.”

“Okay? So what, you’re security for the Mob?” She tried to laugh at her own joke as she thought about if she should have done an information search on Steve before after all.

“No. Nothing like that. I mean, nothing illegal like that at least.”

“Okay.”

“I just, I was so caught off guard when you asked me what I did for work. No one ever asks that. Everyone just already knows. It was nice that you didn’t know. I liked that you saw me for me and that it didn’t matter.”

“You’re rambling, Steve.”

“Right.”

“Why would I know who you are?”

“Because I’m… Look, are you sitting down?”

“Yep.”

“I work with the Avengers.” Rosemary cringed. Of fucking course he did.

“Doing?”

“I’m Steve Rogers.”

“You said that already.”

“I’m Captain America.”

“Excuse me, you’re who now?” Rosemary shut the lid of her laptop with far more force than intended.

“Sara, I said I’m Captain America.” Steve repeated and Rosemary could hear laughing in the background on his end. Her mind clicked into overdrive as she tried to place who could be there.

“Okay. What does that mean for-” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if they even had an ‘us’.

“Us?” He offered the word softly and she nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “It doesn’t have to change anything. I’m still the same Steve, my job’s just a bit different.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rosemary felt guilty for asking with all that she hadn’t told him but she was curious. “It’s okay if you don’t want to explain it. It doesn’t matter, really.”

“I didn’t mean to. It’s just… you didn’t realize who I was and just saw me for me. I didn’t want to become just Cap to you.” She listened as he heaved a sigh from the city. “If you don’t want to hear from me again, that’s fine. I’d understand.”

“No- I do.” She answered impulsively and cringed. “I just… what made you tell me?”

“Well it’s about work.” Rosemary nearly dropped her phone.

“What’s that?” She tried to keep her voice calm.

“I’m going to be going out on a mission for the next few weeks.”

“Will it be dangerous?” Rosemary bit her lip as she tried to think.

“Any mission can be.” Steve admitted. “We don’t expect this one to be too dangerous though.”

“So you’ll be gone for a while?”

“Yeah. But this one isn’t expected to be a total communication black out. I’ll have my phone on me and be able to text during down time. I may even be able to swing a few calls.”

“Will that be safe?” She took a deep breath. “That’s a dumb question.”

“I won’t access my phone unless it’s safe for me to do so. I won’t call unless it’s safe. I won’t put you in danger.”

“Okay. Promise you will be as safe as you can be?”

“I will. If I do have to go dark I’ll try to let you know.”

“What if…?”

“Something goes wrong?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing will go wrong.” Steve reassured.

“But if it does?”

“If things go bad it will probably be in the news.” Steve laughed for a moment but stopped when she didn’t join in. “Okay- not funny. I’ll let the team know that if something happens to me to let you know. But nothing will happen. It’s routine.”

“Okay.” She breathed the word twice as she tried to convince herself that it would be okay.

“I needed you to know who I really was. I didn’t want you to be upset if I couldn’t talk as much as we have been.”

“That makes sense. I’ll just take what I can get. You’ll let me know when you’re back?”

“First thing.” Steve promised. “But also- I wanted you to know that whatever the reasons you have for your secrets, I can keep you safe if and when you let me in on whatever it is.”

“I can’t.” Her voice was tight and she suddenly wanted to cry as dumb as it was. “I can’t tell you. You can’t ask me too.”

“I won’t. I won’t right now but I hope in time you’ll trust me. I want to earn your trust.”

“In time.”

“I should get going. I’ve got to pack still…”

“Let me know when you leave?”

“Will do.”

Rosemary ended the call with a sigh and threw her phone on the bed behind her. Wasting no time she started pacing the bedroom. Wine was a good idea, surely. Or maybe not. She needed to call Julian. She needed to leave, get off Steve’s radar. He was a fucking Avenger.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fucking fuck.”

She didn’t want to go. Surely there was someway she could spin it with Julian some way that he would allow her to stay. That thought caused her to stop in her tracks. Julian wasn’t her keeper. He wasn’t her boss. He wasn’t her elder brother. He wasn’t her father. They were equals, partners. She wouldn’t allow him to make her choice for her.

Now she just needed to decide what she wanted to do.

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