#my sad co-dependent mother and son

[avemstella]

“Neuvillette,” she stated. “It’s all going to be alright, because I will be this nation’s god.”

-Dulce est Desipere in Loco

More of my fic art because obviously had to draw this scene.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e4 rewatch notes

I'm a bit tired, please forgive the typos:

At the intro, we get a montage of the permits and files and drills, the sense of urgency - the furiousness of the work and notes begging Carmy for something (that was probably already set on his list in the last episode). I guess I stopped paying attention to the timelines - they're now 7 weeks out with no walls and we haven't really gotten into the meat of the series yet - meaning we don't really see Carmy flake the fuck out until 1 month from opening.

Sugar's "don't tell anyone - this is my problem" bit is so sad, watching her castigate herself for bringing another her/carmy/mikey/donna/their dad into the world. I also hate the way such a heavy moment was turned into such a "womp womp - wall fell" moment, as the situation (and Sugar) deserved a lot more gravitas.

But this is a show through the male lens. Richie feels vindicated that he "guessed it". Carmy doesn't know how to show his concern (and to be fair, she'd probably pummel him if he expressed anything in that moment), but the fact that he still lets his sister shoulder so much of the restaurants burdens alone through the rest of the series shows the level he disassociates from his family (even his only caring/loving family member) at every turn.

Marcus is such a good son - I hope in season 3 we get a (posthumous, I presume) look at who his mother was, what shaped his character, how his brother/father play a role (if any) in his current family dynamic etc.

The Chester + Marcus pairing is a magical talisman that protects the show from a deluge of male-on-male emotional evasion, jousting and toxic co-dependency. I don't care that Chester is about as believable as Claire as a character, mainline that shit into my veins.

I love that Carmy ensured that Marcus would have the identical experience he had when he staged in Copenhagen (as described in Fishes to Mikey) - this is in no way coincidental, he would have had to make plenty of arrangements/requests to Marie for things to play out that way. He wanted Marcus to see Copenhagen through the same magical lens he did, knowing Marcus needed the inspiration and a break from his own version of family strife.

The invisible cat (Coco), the looming presence of Marcus' mom on the viewers minds, and the bike scene are three great examples of things that feel foreboding (like the other shoe is going to drop on Marcus) but never actually amount to anything. Whether existential or hopeful, I like it.

"Do you know how to make Shisho Gelee?" - this is such a gentle test to see how insecure Marcus is in this environment. Passing him the recipe as he's googling was an awesome act of amnesty. It immediately brings out Marcus' curiosity in the next scenes - he's asking all the right questions and looks so joyful when Luca gives him concise answers.

The scenes played out to Otis Redding's "I've Been Loving You Too Long", starting with "You're tired - and you want to be free" playing as Marcus walks home. Temporarily free from the impending death of his mother at home after a long illness. Free from the constraints of the (up until now) low-level jobs Marcus' has held down in kitchens with minimal inspiration and nowhere to go. Free from loneliness? The next cut is Sydney interviewing staff, as if on cue.

The quenelle - the heavy-lovin' part of the song as Marcus' is immersed in his work with Luca, falling in love with the ritualization of his craft. Things in Marcus' life haven't exactly been going right, but this is a place of solace. He follows this up by calling his Mom - professing his love for his craft, as well as for her.

Sidebar: The minty snickers bar is almost a sexual release scene during the ballad. I get why so many folks were led down the road to hell that is Marcus x Luca fanfic, as weird as I think that is (no hate! do you!)

The song ends with the pastry dissection on the boat. This man found love/spiritual release in Copenhagen, just like Carmy. "Mission accomplished, I guess."

Fak saying "Dude! We're best friends, we don't tell secrets!" re: the alliance stuff. So....every dude at The Beef/Bear is his best friend, Sugar is Mommy, and Sydney (and Tina, for that matter) are ????

I feel like Fak may be the thing that continues to insulate The Beef/The Bear as a Berzatto clubhouse for wayward boys at this juncture, but I'm originally from Canada (and thus have been force-fed Matty Matheson a.k.a Fak-Light since the mid-aughts) so there's probably some bias creeping in here.

Luca started as a chef 14 years ago. If he entered the profession and competed against Carmy at the same level/experience as a high-school graduate, that makes him and Carmy in the rough age range of 29-32, adjusting for education sans A-levels in the UK. We can put away that screenrant article and die in peace now.

Mikey was "Really tight, but also really out of his fucking mind, and he wanted to open a bakery". Something something Berzatto parallels.

Luca says "I've got a younger sister, somewhere, yeah" after asking about Marcus' family. Luca's got a case of the family damage, the trouble in school, a past-tense case of the ferocious mopes - all the same watermarks as Carmy. Meanwhile, Marcus was just sharing his mothers prognosis, and speaks of his brother with no ill will (even though he doesn't appear to be in the caretaking position with his mom) - are they foreshadowing that Marcus' doesn't have the damage that makes a truly great/ritualized/masochistic chef in the long run?

Luca's may have learned more lessons in life than Carmy has (in part by being thwarted by Carmy) but the habits borne out of family evasion/searching for something else are so engrained with that backstory. Or maybe Marcus' represents the happier/new way of doing things, breaking the toxic cycle (more thoughts on this down the line).

Luca worked to keep up with Carmy after he came to a place of acceptance that he'd never be the best, and that ended up being enough for him. Maybe a blessing is that Marcus' gets to sidestep the whole toxic cycle and just absorb knowledge (from Luca, from Carmy, from Syd) - he's not in a running position, just like Tina.

But of course, we never worry about Tina - she's too self-possessed. Marcus is emotional and easily influenced, so I have a feeling his narrative could turn on a dime.

Luca says "At a certain stage, it becomes less about skill and more about being open....." In summary:

Marcus - Open, but I fear could easily become closed in the wrong environment/trauma.

Carmy - Closed, doesn't really understand how to open when not hiding behind the guise of the restaurant/Syd/emotional fabrications

Sydney - Wants open, but always closes instinctively for self-protection.

Natalie - Open, with the limited emotional tools she has at her disposal.

Richie - *learning* to open, but that's a long fucking road.

Tina - Open

"It helps to have good people around you, too" - see above. The Bear represents the inherent goodness of people, with familial history run roughshod over it.

Marcus asking "Was It worth it? The time you put in" quickly followed by Luca saying "I dunno....ask me tomorrow"

Isn't this the feeling of fecklessness that almost everyone has with their creative craft being converted to labor? There's been a lot of theories floating around that Carmy doesn't like cooking anymore/never liked cooking - could it just be the long-standing feeling of irrelevance when you've taken a deep-dive into your craft for so long that you can't see the forest (inspiration, caring for people) through the trees (red tape, skill level, trauma etc.)?

The man on the bike could also represent saving someone the way that Marcus can't save his mom - it alleviates some of the feelings of powerlessness, and the exchange of comfort in the hug a reciprocity he can no longer experience with her.

"Are you sure you want to get back on the bike?"

A bad thing happened, but the man feels compelled to keep moving - as Marcus said to Syd in S1 "just keep moving" - there are a bunch of metaphors for just proceeding with the restaurant here.

Syd is literally just being goofy and talking to Marcus like a friend when he first calls - I guess I imagined there being a little more heat/aloofness there on her behalf, but it's giving friend-zone. She wouldn't act so familiar if there was a crush, I don't feel its in her DNA....

Marcus sharing the nightmare about his mom's impending death with Sydney is huge (again, the other shoe dropping) - Sydney tries to give an empathetic response (she's not great at anything with a whiff of mortality to it, but she approaches the topic with optimism) and caps it off with a "ugghh - I miss you man" as a reassuring gesture - he's her friend and a great source of comfort.

He nods quietly, waits a beat, and says "I miss you too" - and you can tell the pregnant pause has let Syd know that there's gravity/consequences to her words. She diffuses with the freeze humor because what the hell else are you going to do once a guy tells you about his dying mom nightmare, you spurt out a casual "I miss you bro" and he responds back tenderly that he misses you too. Unenviable.

"Okay, goodnight dude" - Syd hangs up immediately. Oof. Everyone talks about Syd getting a love interest in season 3 to level the stakes with Carmy, but I want Marcus' to bag a hot expediter or something just so there's a bit of joy in his life without a crazy dramatic subplot ensuing.

The mild smile on Marcus' face is so peaceful when he masters the dessert. It's such a quiet satisfaction you can only get when you create things. What a nice way to end the episode.

Holy crap, this was far too long. If you stuck it out, thank you!

[gojobabygirly]

         ﹙HIS OBSESSION﹚

Chapter 01.

"Your father is scum."

"I'm sick of this situation."

"Life is shit, we share the same silliness and shit here. Cheer up girl."

"How the hell can I cheer up?!." You snorted, rolled your eyes away from your two friends who were sitting across from you on the couches, trying to hold back your laments that threatened to fall on your face.

"Yo babe, are you okay?" The other, with light brown hair, demanded as she leaned forward to place her hand on the thigh of the girl who turned her face to the side, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"Y/N... what's wrong with you?." The girl with the dark brown short hair stopped sipping the liquid from her glass cup with furrowed eyebrows.

"My dad brings his bitches day and night he throws them at me and I have to serve his shit all day, he doesn't even give me my money to buy what I want!" You spat angrily.

"Things got worse." You muttered in a shaky voice, letting your tears run down your cheeks, wrinkling your eyebrows.

The white-haired man pulled the glass door back, and his four colleagues came in behind him. To his right walks a man with a huge muscular build, his azure eyes scanning the place.

Sukuna pulled back his pink hair with his tattooed hand, and raised his red eyes to the ceiling to see the multi-colored chandeliers changing every second, comfortable leather larks and boxes of fine alcohol spread out on the huge table in the suite they had booked. place considered him.

They were advancing, but what stopped them was a soft weeping voice with intermittent gasps of a girl, while the two of them quietly muttered to her perfectly fine.

"There is no other solution than this, y/n I know it's hard for you but-"

"What's wrong with your mother's family, your grandmother, who doesn't want you anymore?" They heard another girl's voice, followed by a sniff and another shaky gasp.

"They don't want me! My grandmother only takes care of her filthy pocket, it should be filled with money for life, she told me I'm dependent on her and she can't stand me being in the house, I'm not a grown woman just because I don't cook or serve them all day!.

I can't believe my mother's death ruined my life! Only to this degree because my mother's salary is over, everyone drops his masks, it turns out that all that love is only for my mother's money, sons of a bitch." With a soft voice spitting in anger and pain at the same time, satoru stepped forward to see the three girls' suite next to them.

He uninterestedly moved forward to take his seat on the sofa and leaned back, crossing his muscular arms in front of his broad chest, listening carefully, wondering why he cared about the misery and problems of others, but the voice that attracted him to listen was curious.

He saw a group of his companions spread out on the sofas that formed a circle separated by a large glass table in the middle.

He waved his hand to suguru adjacent suite and the girls' voice, huh? He seems interested, too.

"I don't know now what to do, even part-time jobs are not enough for my expenses." You sigh, raise your hand to carefully wipe your tears from your face.

"There is only one solution and it will bring you money simply and as much as you want." The brown-haired woman stammered, placing her glass on the table and pulling a cigarette from the middle tray of the table in front of you three.

"That's why I'm gay guys! Men are the worst creatures in existence." Lily added after sighing with a laugh.

"Guys, shit, girly would only get pain if she did that." The other beside her muttered, letting out a sigh.

You were playing with your fingers in your lap and staring, your mind was clouded with thoughts, today is your last day in a house because you got kicked out and no one wants you to stay in their house.

"Doll, you look beautiful when you cry." Lily added while pricking your nose with her forefinger, trying to ease your sadness.

"Lily ,Jia, I don't know what to do." You felt your eyes getting wet again, covering your face with your palms, your body feeling cold and numb from crying for days.

The two frowned, trying to calm you from crying for the third time in this place.

"Stop complaining y/n, don't be a crybaby." Jia sighed as her cigarette smoked out of her mouth and stared at the ceiling.

"I'm not a crybaby! Damn it, I'm in great misery and you're here making fun of me?,Where am I going tomorrow?,I got kicked out!." You exploded, taking your hands off your face, staring at her with a reddish face from crying, puffy red lips, a pink nose, puffy eyelids, a wet face with rosy cheeks.

"Hear my words, so that you don't need any of them." She moved her index finger towards you.

"I heard." you talked.

"Work with me." she said.

"what?." You blinked without understanding, you knew, but you refused to reach that idea.

You saw her sigh, put out the ashes of the cigarette on the table and lean back.

"Work with me, sell your body in a night club, or choose a man to sleep with for money, I know you are still young but there is no solution." She said with a blank face, what expressions do you see your eyes turning wide in shock.

"Jia are you crazy!? y/n is still a virgin and a fucking minor!." The other one sitting next to her rocked, staring at her in disbelief.

"I know she's a virgin! Being a virgin will bring her good luck and great fortune!." The other added trying to get you to accept the idea.

"The hell, I wouldn't sell my body for money! Where the hell is my dignity?!." You exploded tightening your jaw.

"Don't talk to me about dignity, do you think we are happy with our situation? We sell our bodies for money and to live! Nobody cares about Y/N!No one! Before you trample on everything or let life trample on you harshly and kill you!."

The other screamed, you flinched your head down, your lips trembled, your tears streamed down your face again, you don't know how sensitive you've been this while if someone wanted to make you cry a thousand times a day you would undoubtedly do.

"The hell you made her cry again, look what you did!" Lily hissed as she let go of her knot and hug her half-exposed chest while stroking your head with one hand, her other hand gently thinking your back.

"I want her to live! I know men are disgusting and scoundrels, but she must live. That old woman will not hesitate to throw her into a forced marriage with any idiot she sees to get rid of her!." The other added while crossing her arms angrily.

"Hey babes ,don't cry, Jia loves you and wants to give you the right solution." Lily spoke while gently patting your head.

"I think I have a good idea,for you y/n, or a good man will Please you very good."

⠀   ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤ      𓇬         ㅤ⎯⎯

[megan-loves-surveys]

#22.

Do you know anyone who has divorced and remarried the same person? What do you/would you think of someone who does that? Not that I know of. And I'd think it was odd, cos why would they think it would work the second time if it failed the first?

Do you say goodnight to anybody before you go to bed? If so, does it feel weird if you go to bed without saying it to them? No, cos my Mum usually goes to bed before I do lol. My boyfriend sometimes texts me before he goes to sleep though, so I say goodnight in return.

Do you have a favourite role of Johnny Depp’s? If you don’t like him, what is your favourite role of an actor you like? Jack Sparrow 100%.

Why did you/your parents choose to live where you do now? Would you move right now if you were able to? Why/why not? If so, where would you like to go? My Mum got bored of our house and wanted to move. That's basically it, lol. We found this place and liked it, so here we are. It was prob a good idea cos the street we used to live in is super busy now, they've bulldozed most of the houses and built huge apartment blocks there now.

If someone broke into your house and robbed you, what could they take that would piss you off or upset you the most? To what lengths would you go to get it back? Has something like this already happened to you before? My laptop, it has my entire life on it. And if they took my HDD that goes with it, I'd be even more mad cos I have a lot of stuff backed up on that. And I haven't been robbed, thankfully.

Was there something you were afraid of as a child that just seems silly to you now? I dunno.

Do you like coffee? I do, but I don't really drink it much cos the caffeine in it keeps me awake for the next 3 days.

When did you last make up a baby’s bottle? Never.

Do you eat your dinner at a dining table, coffee table or just off your lap? Dining table usually, but sometimes I eat upstairs at my desk.

Did you go to high school with your current best friend? Yes.

Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? Yes, my Mum and I split them.

How many cars can fit in your driveway? We have two parking spaces in front of our house. We live in a complex, everyone gets two.

Have you ever slapped someone in the face? Yes.

Last person you took a nap with? My boyfriend.

Does seeing your mother cry automatically make you feel sad as well? Yes.

Have you ever given up on someone, but then went back to them later? No.

Is your last ex currently in a relationship? No clue.

Do you think the last person you kissed has feelings for you? I know he does, considering it's my boyfriend :P

Have you ever been punched in the face? No.

Are you the type of person who seeks out revenge? Not really.

Have you ever been asked out by someone you didn’t want to be with? Oh yeah, quite a few times. One of my friends began by asking me out, I said no cos he's not my type and is younger than me, but he was fine with it and we just became friends instead.

Who is the last person to call you gorgeous? My boyfriend xD

Do you think a lot before you fall asleep? Sometimes, depends how tired I am.

Would you rather have your parents catch you having sex or smoking weed? I don't smoke weed, so this question doesn't apply xD

Do you like it when people call you babe? Oh yeah, go ahead. My boyfriend calls me that a lot, and so do some of my friends.

Would you ever get your nipples pierced? Probably not.

Does it bother you to get shots in the mouth? Does it hurt? Not a fan, but if I have to, I will.

Ever ride in a limo? When did you last do so? No.

Do you have a lot of self-discipline? It depends.

Have you ever been to another country’s capital city? I've been to London and Washington DC.

What’s something that has upset you lately? Not sure, I've been pretty happy.

What’s something you don’t think people take seriously enough? Not sure.

Have you ever dated someone who had a child from a previous relationship? Yes. My boyfriend has two adult sons, they're 32 and 28.

What’s your favorite kind of soup? Chicken noodle.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? No.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Yes.

What will be the next concert you attend? None at the moment, gotta wait till someone I like announces a tour.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! Only in photos.

When was the last time you had a hangover? Years ago. I can handle my booze.

Do you own many pairs of shorts? Dozens. My entire bottom drawer is pretty much just shorts lol.

Who was the last person you texted? My boyfriend, I told him to have a good day at work haha.

When was the last time you felt like letting it all out and having a cry? Dunno.

When was the last time someone made you feel like an idiot? The other day at work, some woman was being super condescending to me and trying to make me feel dumb.

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? Sure, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't.

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? I don't remember it's name.

Would you rather read a book, or listen to the audiobook? Read it.

What is your favorite book? The entire Weather Warden series.

What is something you’re insecure about? My stomach.

What do you consider your biggest accomplishment? Graduating uni.

Who knows you the best? Prob my Mum or my boyfriend.

Will anyone be visiting your house any time soon? My boyfriend comes over multiple days a week haha.

Scroll through your camera roll quickly without looking, then stop it with your finger. What’s the first picture your eye lands on? I'm too lazy to grab my phone.

Have you ever been chased by a dog? Yes.

What’s your favourite kind of soda? Coke Zero Sugar.

Do you have a drink with you right now? What is it? No.

What was the last app you opened on your phone? Pokémon Sleep.

Is your voice high, low, or somewhere in the middle? It's low, especially for an adult woman. People have told me they're surprised at how my voice sounds.

Are you wearing any rings right now? Not at the moment.

How many beds are in your home? Two.

What is the last thing you ate? Peanut butter crackers.

Who is your favorite person to spend time with? Hard to pick.

Are you considered a “clingy girlfriend”? Probably, but my boyfriend has said that he likes it xD

Are you good at multitasking? Yes.

When’s the last time you went to a nightclub? A few months ago, my boyfriend and I went to one for a laugh. My boyfriend's in his 50's so it was funny to see him in a club, he told me he hadn't been to a nightclub since the late 90's LOL.

Do you prefer hot or cold drinks overall? Cold.

What kind of flowers do you like the best? When was the last time someone bought those for you? I'm not a big fan of flowers in general.

What’s the smallest thing you’ve ended a relationship over? Dunno.

Would you rather order a starter (appetizer) or a dessert? Or would you be able to manage a full three courses? Dessert, but it depends on what appetizers there are.

How do you get most of your news, if you pay attention to it at all? Facebook tbh lol.

Have you or a member of your family been diagnosed with COVID yet? I'm sure both my Mum and I had Covid in 2022.

Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? I don't really do that.

Do you tend to keep your phone on silent, vibrate, or loud? Depends what I'm doing - I have it on vibrate when I'm at work, regular volume the rest of the time and silent when I'm sleeping.

When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? I've been with my boyfriend when he's walked his dog before, but I've only held the lead myself a few times.

Who was the last artist you listened to? Is this someone you’re a fan of? Five, and yes, one of my all time faves <3

Black cats are considered to be bad luck - is this a superstition that you’ve ever believed in? No, black cats are adorable and amazing, never bad luck!

How old were you when you first used the internet? Was it dial-up or did you have access to proper broadband? I'm not sure, but I was probably around 10 or so? It was dial-up cos I'm old lol.

Have you seen any of the live-action Disney remakes? Which one is your favourite? What about your least favourite? I don't think I have.

What magazine would you like to be on the cover of? Any LOL.

Have you ever considered modeling? No, I'm way too damn short lol.

Have you ever had a life-threatening allergic reaction? No. Most of my allergies are just annoying, I get a rash or I get a sore stomach and diarrhea.

What types of seafood are your favorite? I love fish, and calamari is nice, but that's about it.

Do you read a lot? Not a lot, but I've def been reading more lately.

Do you write a lot for pleasure? Yes! Not as much as I used to, but sometimes I get the urge.

Are there any vlogs you subscribe to and watch regularly? Nah, most of the YT videos I watch are gaming or like scripted videos haha.

Do you have any allergies? I have skin allergies - nickel and certain fabrics/materials bring me out in an itchy rash (I have to wear bamboo socks and the like cos regular ones are a no no and I had to buy a nylon strap for my FitBit cos the strap it came with gave me a rash). I'm also allergic to plums, most berries except strawberries (which is good cos they're the nicest ones lol), parmesan cheese and I also get hayfever.

What is your favorite breakfast food? Toast, cereal or croissants.

Who do you (romantically) love? My boyfriend of course <3

Have you ever considered yourself dirty? Physically? No. In the bedroom? Yes LOL.

Where was the last place you kissed someone? My boyfriend's lounge cos I was leaving to walk home.

Where do you want to get married? Nowhere.

Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? -

What has been your favorite part of this calendar year so far? Meeting Five!!!! <3 They are so lovely and I got to hug Ritchie so yeah easily the best part of 2024 so far haha.

Have you ever used your sexuality to get you something you wanted? Only jokey things, nothing serious.

Have you ever hung out with a complete stranger? Oh sure, when you go to concerts and wrestling shows that's a normal thing. When I went to see Five, I ended up hanging out with these other women who also went to the meet and greet - we had nowhere to go between the m&g and them opening the doors for the actual concert so we sat outside the venue together for 3 hours. One of the women ordered pizza xD They were very cool people.

Pick your three favourite vegetables. Potatoes, corn and peas.

What colour are your brother’s eyes? -

How many flights of stairs are in your house? One.

Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? Yes, circle of death mainly.

Do you often feel excluded? Not really.

Do you regularly check anyone’s profile online? No? LOL.

Have your parents ever worked in medicine? No.

What is your favourite type of cookie? Chocolate chip, the soft chewy ones.

Have you ever tasted goat’s milk? No.

Have you ever taken care of a newborn baby? Hell no lol.

Do you snore when you sleep? Not that I know of, my boyfriend has never said I do.

What’s the closest supermarket to your house? Probably... Woolworths, it's a ten minute drive.

What languages did you learn in school? I took French for 3 years.

Have you ever ridden in a police car for any reason? No.

Do you have a TV in your bedroom? Yes. It's not usable at the moment though cos I broke the aerial cord, I moved it when I was putting up new curtains and it snapped so I have to buy a new one.

Are you good at remembering names? Depends.

What is one of your favourite sea creatures? Dunno.

Do you always get popcorn when you go to the cinema? Any other snacks or treats? In NZ, you can take in anything you want from outside so I usually just get a packet of chips from the supermarket or something cos the food there is so expensive. Sometimes I take in fast food - last time I went I had KFC and this guy in the row below me was eating McDonald's lol.

What game or puzzle have you never understood? Sudoku lol. Anything with numbers is not my thing.

Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other to talk to? No lol, I'm not weird. I also know he wouldn't cheat on me!

Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? No.

If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? -

Look out of the nearest window. What do you see? Details, please. I see the tiny area outside our house, it's our deck and the stone wall. Then beyond that is the main highway so loads of cars driving past and buses stopping at the stop across the road.

Do you get cold easily? Or are you constantly hot? Both - I'm generally hot, but my feet are always cold. Right now, I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt but I have socks and ugg boots on xD

Do you recognize friends’/family’s vehicles by sound? No.

Which Disney villain is your favourite? Um...

Have you ever been to a vineyard? I have, we went to one in 2015 in California, it was part of the Wrestlemania travel package. It was really fun, we got a tour of the place and then got to crush grapes xD I thought it would make your feet dirty but it cleans them actually hahah.

Are there any swans around where you live? No.

Does anyone in your inner circle struggle with addiction? No.

Do you keep Christmas lights up year-round? No haha only in December and the first part of January.

Is your mom the same size as you? No, she's bigger than me.

Do you remember who your first-grade teacher was? Not really.

Who was the last person to knock on your door? Were they there to see you? My boyfriend and yes of course.

Have you left the house yet today? If not, do you have plans to leave the house later on? Yes, I went to the mall this morning and later on I'm going to the gym.

Have you ever met someone in person who you first met on the internet? Do you have plans to do that anytime soon? Yep - the two biggest are Edmund and Zoe, both amazing people. I met both of them on Livejournal haha. Edmund and I have been friends since 2004 and we finally met in person in 2015 cos we live on opposite sides of the world (I went to Boston where he was living at the time, the timing worked out right), and Zoe and I met in 2007 and met the following year cos we lived in the same country but 3 hours away from each other. Zoe passed away from cancer last year though, RIP girl :(

Who do you know with the most number of siblings? Would you ever want to live in a huge family? Ngawari, she has 9 brothers and sisters! I haven't met them all lol, I've only met 3 or 4 of them. And no thanks haha.

Do you like adding condiments to your food? If so, what are some of your favourites? I LOVE condiments, haha. I use so much ketchup and mayo it's insane, and I also love mustard and sweet chili sauce and BBQ sauce...

[fiction-bks]

𝕋ℍ𝔼𝕄𝔼𝕊: ℍ𝕀𝕊𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕀ℂ𝔸𝕃. 𝔻ℝ𝔸𝕄𝔸. 𝔸ℂ𝕋ℝ𝔼𝕊𝕊/ℂ𝔼𝕃𝔼𝔹ℝ𝕀𝕋𝕐. 𝔻𝔸ℝ𝕂 "The dark side of Hollywood" is what I choose to title this book 😩😩😩 Because my women suffered like there was no God to save them or hear their prayers. 😩𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜.😩 Rating: 🌟🌟🌟 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘; The main plot is really good. Celebrity romance can be very intriguing. It is like reading this gossip tabloids but written by the celebrity themselves, so no stalking agenda. It was really sad what happened to the love between Kathryn and Alice. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒; The only two characters I liked were Robin and Jack. Robin was Alice's "could've been" gf and Jack was Alice's son. Alice was ok too but her timid traits got annoying after a while. And Kathryn, I don't hate her but I don't like her either. I hate it when someone knows they're doing something wrong and still do it... like really, why? And I don't know if she had a lot of flows. She needed a therapist and a real friend. A lot of things happened to Alice and Kathryn, they had flaws and issues and mental illnesses. Alice had anxiety and eating disorder plus a co-dependence trait. And then Kathryn, the alcohol, the drugs, the smoking, the unsafe sex.. very self destructive. like I said, she needed therapy and a real friend. The hetero sex was disgusting and most of it was non-consensual, with Alice saying no and Frank still forcing himself on her without a condom, many times. And don't get me started with Charles, that monster. The things he did to Kathryn. The endless abortions and then Vivian. And the mothers to Kathryn and Alice, such traumatizing figures. Good riddance. The book is good, kind of educative. Life is not easy. But I didn't feel good reading it or finishing it. No HEA. 😩😞 After all that suffering. 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣 𝘼𝙍𝘾 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩. #wlw #wlwbooks #sapphic #queer #historical #noncontemporary #bisexual https://www.instagram.com/p/Cjbky6ZDdxl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[collegiate-trash]

Nagito of Novoselic AU has been planted into my brain please I’m so desperate for more

Buddy lemme tell you more then cos I feel you ヽ(；▽；)ノ

Fair warning though: Sonia's gender will vary depending on who is talking. So if it's Nagito, Sonia will be a she if talking about his cousin or a he if he pertains to his current.. circumstances. Likewise, Sonia is a she for everyone else. Unless they know the truth 👀

Sonia of Novoselic is certainly different from how her painting portrayed her. Her flaxen hair is more silver than spun gold, and she's certainly more petite than how Yonaga showcased her. Is her chest really that flat? And look at those hips? How is she to carry a son with those?

Hinata isn't too upset about it, but it certainly makes him wonder if the painter scammed him out of a good thing. His courtiers certainly think so as they whisper among themselves the moment Sonia revealed herself.

Nagito is fully aware that it's only through sheer dumb luck that he isn't being dragged away into the dungeons right now. He can feel their stares boring into his very being after all. Sonia is perfection brought to life—whatever possessed him to think he can embody even a smidge of it must have been out of its wits! To say that he is nervous about this whole affair is an understatement. Clearly. He is obviously walking to his death here. Not exactly a fun place to be in aha

And perhaps he looks pathetically pitiful enough, with his twitchy smile and anxious fiddling, that King Hinata himself silences the crowd. If the ground can swallow him now, that will be highly appreciated. But even so, despite the roaring whispers threatening to drown him, he can't help but feel at ease as Hinata ushers him away, sending him to his chambers to await his trial.

'Or, wedding,' a voice that oddly sounds like Sonia chirps in his ear. "Or, wedding..." A fact that makes him more distraught than comforted. Jabberwock may be a progressive kingdom but it clearly still holds on to its beliefs. His earlier fiasco in the court clearly points to that.

He can't help but sink into his knees as he remembers how he pushed a man away when he tried to kiss him. If he'd known it was Hinata in disguise he would have allowed it and saved himself the trouble. Alas. His skittish nature has ruined what he hoped to be a favorable first impression. Now everyone in court knows how horrible he is! And worse, they will think Sonia, his dear beloved Sonia who did nothing wrong, is some sort of uncouth woman who lacks manners and grace...!

If he ends up crying inside this fancy, empty room, no he did not. He most certainly did not mourn his cousin, and he absolutely did not get his heart broken into a thousand shards the moment his world crashed into pieces. Honestly. What is there to cry about? Isn't this what he wanted? Just a few more days—perhaps even hours—and he'll be reunited with his father and mother in the afterlife once more! So really, what is there to be sad about? Aha... ha...

It certainly is a surprise then when Nagito wakes up to a vase filled with black roses the very next day. There have certainly been imitations of Novoselic's royal flowers, but he knew from scent alone that these are the real deal. Yesterday is a disaster. There's no point in denying that, however... His heart can't help but lighten a little at seeing a piece of his hometown in sunny Jabberwock. And if his good mood persists through the day, people certainly notice.

"I assume you enjoyed it then?" Hinata conversely asks during a shared meal together, persistently casual even as Nagito continues to fiddle in silence. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you yesterday..." Honestly. If he knew Sonia's cousin is on his deathbed before her departure, he would have waited for another month or so before taking her in. Just because he tries to emulate his brother's stoic air doesn't mean that he can ignore his more sentimental side. He may not fully understand the pain Sonia is going through right now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what it's like to be sent away, potentially seeing your family for the last time. "Things are proceeding quickly, I know, but that doesn't mean that you must bear all of this alone," the king says, voice soft as he remembers Sonia's anguished cries from last night. "We will be spending our years together... I just hope that my wife will find it in her heart to trust me with her woes."

For as wonderful as Hinata's words are, Nagito knows precisely what will happen if he dares to do that. He isn't his wife—he isn't even the person he believes him to be. Yet, despite all that, his lips stretch into a smile. It's fragile and brittle, nothing like the sort he gives Sonia at all. It feels fake on his face, but the way the king looks at him makes himself feel seen for the first time. Ha... Look at him, Sonia... One gesture of kindness and he's already weak in the knees. How pathetic is that.

Later that night, King Hinata finds himself staring at Sonia's portrait once more. Her captured smile is dazzling—picture perfect even. However, try as he might, he can't feel the same sensation as he did earlier when comforting her. Her smile then was wobbly, befitting a child more than a lady, and yet... It's warm. Genuine. Soft in a way this portrait can never hope to imitate... Ugh. He spent one day with her and now he's back to being stupid Hajime. Didn't he learn his lesson already? Pretty faces do nothing but fuck him in the ass, Enoshima taught him that!! Even so... perhaps he misjudged Sonia too soon. He highly doubts the courtiers will ever approve of her, but maybe... Ah, stupid stupid...! Stop thinking! He is a king now. Silly fantasies like romance have no room in his life. He should focus on things that matter, like raising his heir. Yeah! Or, or... ensuring that the kingdom will continue to prosper! Love? Ha! Sonia will give him a son and that's all there is to this union. Nothing more, nothing less... Yes. Nothing more and nothing less, as things should be.

[onomonopetabread]

Declawing the Cat - Chapter 3

(Sorry it took so long guys, between testing and homework and executive functioning, I could NOT get this done. Anyways,

“Father, do I have to go?” Adrien asked for the hundredth time.

“Of course Adrien. I refuse to go on a business trip as important as this one without you. You’re my son.”

Felix rolled his eyes. He and his mother were visiting the two bachelors (against his actual will, obviously). Everyone in the room knew the real reason why Adrien had to go; he was the face of the brand, and it was common fashion knowledge that to go to such a high-ranking event without your leading model would get you shunned and cancelled. ‘You’re my son’ EVERYONE’S arse.

It was obvious that Adrien was all too aware of this fact, because he couldn’t seem to run out of excuses for why he couldn’t go.

Well, he could also not wish to go because of how brain-numbingly boring the whole affair is, and honestly, who could blame him? This year’s Annual Pre-Junior’s Fashion Competition Assembly was being held in Sydney, and all of the biggest names in the industry were going to attend. The assembly takes place over the course of two. Entire. Months. For what, not even the attendees know. Felix swears, these designers were as mad as a bag of ferrets.

I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing, like Miss I’m-all-that Ginger Breadhouse, you’d probably be in Seventh Heaven there, but if you were, how do you say, normal, you’d sell your soul to be another else. In fact, Felix could almost bet Chat Noir’s Miraculous that Adrien would sign that demonic contract in a heartbeat if that were an option.

“But Father, what about school? I’ll miss so much instruction-”

“Natalie will tutor you, just like she did before you attended that … institution.”

“And my fencing practice? Surely, you wouldn’t want me to miss out on those.”

“Adrien, are you suggesting that they don’t have fencing areas in Sydney?”

“No, I’m just saying that fencing without Kagami wouldn’t be the same…”

“Well, you aren’t going to be fencing with her forever, so think of this as a sample for the future. Now, no more of this arguing, Adrien. You are going to the Assembly and that’s final. Have I made myself clear?”

Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat and for a heartbeat, Felix felt sympathetic. “Yes, Father.”

“Good, now go pack some clothes you will need for the weeks. We won’t be at the events the entire time, so I will permit you to bring some of your own wardrobe. Please remember we will be there for a long time, so pack accordingly.”

And with that, they were all dismissed. Adrien trugged upstairs looking particularly peeved. He invited Felix to come with him, and Felix agreed, but only to keep up appearances. If he knew any better, Felix would have sworn that he heard him talking to someone on the way up, but he decided to ignore it; he couldn’t be bothered to guess what weird habits his wanker of a cousin had.

Once they got to Adrien’s room, Felix sat himself down at the piano while Adrien took out a suitcase from his closet and started choosing some informal clothing for when they were just doing day-to-day activities.

“Can you believe that he’s making me go, Felix?”

“Yes, I can believe it.”

“AND we have to leave tomorrow! I won’t even get the chance to say goodbye to our friends.

“Not to worry, cousin dearest. I’ll tell them for you. Anyways, don’t look at this trip as a burden, look at it as a new opportunity. You can gather information and resources for your friend Marinette.”

Adrien’s face brightened at the mention of his friend and Felix rolled his eyes when his back was turned. He swears, all it takes to cheer him up was to be reminded that Pigtails was alive and well somewhere on the planet.

“You’re right, Felix! This way I can help her pursue her dreams! I can’t wait until we get back to tell her everything I’ve learned about the industry.”

“...Can’t you just text or call her?”

“You mean with my phone?”

“No Adrien, I mean with a plastic banana you can buy at the baby store. Yes I mean your phone!”

Adrien paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt and packing it into a suitcase. “I didn’t tell you? Father confiscated it for ‘my own good’. He thinks I spend too much time around my friends and not enough time focusing on my studies, so it’s with him for the time being.”

Well, there goes Felix’s plan to pull a quick cell prank before Adrien leaves. “Adrien Bartholomew Agreste, is that resent I hear in your voice?”

“Yes, it is. I’m tired of responsibilities and having people depend on me every second that I breathe. That’s why I wanted to go to school in the first place; it gives me eight hours of non-Agreste related freedom.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. What did this boy know about responsibilities? All he had to do was play a keyboard, wave a stick around, and look pretty for pictures. Felix couldn’t understand how a job like that could burden someone so badly.

“Goodness, Adrien. You make it sound as though Uncle asks you to carry the weight of the entire ever-loving world on your shoulders.”

Adrien sighed. “That’s just how I feel, sometimes. Anyways, I think these are all of the casual clothing Father will let me take with me. Maybe if I’m lucky, he might not see the video game I hid under them all.”

The next day was a Saturday, so Felix the delivery boy was going to have to give the mega-twits the message at a later time. Today, it was all about acting as emotional as he could for the departure of his Cousin & Co. gabriel thought it would be a good idea for Felix and his mother to stop by the mansion every once in a while to make sure everything was all right, accounted for, and in the case of the house plants, watered. This was news to Felix. He doubted his uncle was even a living being, let alone the type of person to have plants in his home. Right now, they were standing next to the family limo. Natalie and gabriel were talking to Ape Man about transportation in Australia.

“Oh, darling Adrien, I’m so sad to see you go. We only just now got here, and you’re leaving. Why must the fates keep up apart?”

“It’s alright, Aunt Amilie. We’ll be back before you even realize we’re gone.”

“We? Oh, I wasn’t talking about your father, dear. I wouldn’t mind some time away from him. Anyways, I hope you have the best time in Australia. Bring something back for me, will you? I’ve always wanted to get a real boomerang, ever since I was a young girl.”

“I’ll be sure to get you the best boomerang in the country, Aunt A. What about you Felix? Do you want me to get you anything?”

Felix, who was standing some ways behind the others, pretended to ponder it over. “Bring me a friendship bracelet.”

“...A friendship bracelet?”

“If you can’t find one it’s okay I really don’t mind-”

“No, I’ll get you a bracelet. I was only surprised because you aren’t really the type to want one.”

He’s right- there was no way on Good Green Earth would he want some dingly little arts and crafts project. There also wasn’t any way that maybe he wanted his cousin thinking about him during his trip, that he wanted to envision Adrien getting something for him. Don’t even think about considering that Felix felt bad for him, dealing with the devil himself in a new place and wanting to give him something to do. Nope. Not a chance. Felix simply thought that Adrien would look hilarious running around Australia looking for beads and twine.

“...Just make sure you make me a good one, alright?”

Adrien smiled as though he could read right into Felix’s mind, and of course he had to look completely handsome in doing so. Stupid model. They practically had the same face and somehow Felix ended up looking like the off-brand knockoff.

“Adrien, we have to go now. The plane leaves in five hours,” gabriel said, entering the car.

“Why do we need to leave so soon?”

“So that I can buy fabrics with threads, gather all of my designs, double check with Natalie that the suite is still booked for us-”

“Alright, Father. I understand. Well, bye Felix. I’ll miss you.”

With that, he entered the limousine and the four of them drove away.

“Come Felix. Let’s go check the house for anything they might have accidentally left behind. We wouldn’t want them to leave something important,” said Amilie, still a little teary-eyed over the loss of her precious little baby nephew. She couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him for so long, even though his look-alike (her own bloody son) was right in front of her. Of course, Felix wasn’t bitter! Why wouldn’t ever say such a thing?

“Yes, Mother. Would you like me to check Adrien’s room?”

“Please, dear. Oh, look at you, watching over your cousin! And to think you said you wouldn’t like him!”

It was as though his mother never met him. Couldn’t she see that he was just trying to gain some sort of upper hand against Mr. Perfect or to uncover a secret of his? On the sunny side, at least he knows his facade is effective. He was beginning to worry that someone other than Blue-Eyed Phoenix Wright would figure him out.

Felix pushed open the door of Adrien’s room and immediately began to look around and turn things over. He was being extremely careful to make sure that everything he touched was put back in the place he got it from. After looking through his closet and library, however, he was disappointed to find that Adrien was actually as innocent as he seemed (and acted). In fact, the worst thing he could find was a disturbing amount of Ladybug memoria. It was a pity, really. Felix hadn’t blackmailed anyone in a long time, and he was beginning to get antsy. He turned around and headed out.

“Adrien, is that you? I thought you said you weren’t going to come back for another two months.”

Felix did a complete 180 and faced the source of the voice, which seemed to be some sort of floating cat-thing. It looked like a deer in headlights.

“You aren’t Adrien. Wait, are you okay, you seem to be swaying-?”

The thing was right; he was feeling woozy, and it didn’t take him that long to hit the floor, having fainted. The last thing he heard was the talking cat muttering,

“Shit.”

@myazael @2confused-2doanything @thecaptainthunder @thatonecroc @symwinter @mermaidreject @pink-and-bunny @kyrakitesong @your-number-one-second-choice @kayla0binow @hansa-12 @fc-studios @nom-the-king @thetrashypanda423 @chez-pezeater @supertomboyprincess @alyceeve @ceres-zephyr @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @marinettepotterandplagg @starlightshield @sandraf0612

[join-the-joywrite]

Vera & Hamish soulmate au headcannons

Combination of a prompt from @bakulka and @gingersimasnapsandvermishthings where upon making contact with your soulmate, you relive moments of their past

Who's ready for some angst????

Let's get some background on exactly what past angstiness is all about

Síma is, and I say this with all the love in the world, an actual demon mainly because of the suggestion that Hamish was an unwanted child. GIRL, I-- so yes, we will be running with that :)

So there's going to be some instances where Hamish's mother was an outright bitch to her son and straight up tells him that she never wanted it (gosh why am I always jumping down his mother's throat???? It's because she's a rich bitch, isn't it???)

Don't worry, I'll try to think up some painful memories about his father.

On Vera's side, there is the very obvious death of her daughter, but I'm gonna take it up a notch for this au and call attention to how everyone around her responded to the entire thing. Losing your own child is bad enough, imagine being 16 and having to face a close-minded community after that? I mean,,, does my girl even get any sympathy or is it gonna be all about how she was asking for it and she should have known better??? I mean COME ON you can't look at Vera and tell me she's this hardened on the outside only due to her daughter's death.

In any event, let's move on.

My babies grow up lonely. They leave home as early as they can and say a big fat fuck you goodbye to their families.

I say this with all the seriousness I can: I'm 100% sure both of these idiots have the ability to consciously halt their thought process.

So their moment of first contact occurs outside the den, fighting Kepler & Co. but due to their extreme focus on protecting the den, both of them actively ignore the onslaught of past memories.

And it just never comes up?? They just never bring it up with each other?

Then there's the whole pulveris memoria business and Hamish has no clue about any of it so he's genuinely not suppressing anything at all -- but Vera's got lonely moments where she sits with nothing but her own thoughts.

And there's her old memories that she tried to bury deep down but there's something else? A different kind of pain that she can't identify? Now and then, without warning, she's struck by the sudden fear that she doesn't belong, that she has no right to be where she is, that she was unwanted as a child and she is unwanted now.

Side note, how do you think Hamish felt when Cassie told him that Tundra CHOSE him?? Like,, Tundra WANTED him for his champion?? Do you think he cried? Being wanted for the first time in his life? Do you think he and Cassie sat for hours together, talking about it?

Speaking of Cassie, whenever Vera thinks about her daughter and allows herself to mourn a little, she's got this underlying sense of grief that makes her want to blame herself. But she doesn't know how to deal with it. She's processed her daughter's death by now. She knows better. She doesn't blame herself the way she used to. So why is there this lingering urge to berate and blame herself for a death?

Then Alyssa gives the Knights their memories back. Then Hamish starts to feel it too. One day he sees a little girl running to greet her older sibling on the campus and for some reason, the sight of her with her glitter skirt and bouncy pigtails tugs achingly at his heart. Or during his monthly call from his dear old mother, he manages to overlook the unwanted feelings -- he has a new family now -- but there's this new feeling abandonment? He doesn't get it, because he's long since written his mom off. She's not family to him anymore. If anything, by now, HE'S abandoned HER. He feels cast out despite that never being his childhood.

It goes on like this until Lilith brews the potion for them. While Vera is just confused about these strange new feelings (obviously tied to Hamish's memories) Hamish has just been slapped with an onslaught of memories, breaking through every barrier he'd ever created and every memory he ever buried beneath lies of being okay. It's his horrible childhood, losing Cassie, falling for Vera, all at once. But then the new and confusing feeling click into place as a barrage of new memories hit him. Vera losing her daughter, being treated like an outcast, having to fend for herself, slowly losing trust in the individual person . . . all at once.

And it almost breaks him.

He's softer with Vera, now. Almost apologetic for her deeds. Jack doesn't get it when Hamish says he understands Vera a little bit. Jack's hung up on being betrayed by his soulmate.

But Randall gets it. Lilith gets it. They've both known Hamish long enough to know what he says isn't always what he means. But Lilith isn't that great with soft reassurances. She's who Hamish goes to when he needs tough love. So its Randall who talks to Hamish and figures the whole thing out.

Hamish wants to come clean to Vera, but he knows her now. He can calculate the way her mind works. And he knows that she is cut from the same cloth as him. She's buried her own and his memories behind a wall even she can't break.

He has this ongoing internal debate right until the Prometheans and every painful memory in Vera's life springs forward. But so do all the memories she got from Hamish.

(Am I breaking canon? Possibly, it's been a while)

When they next meet, it's quiet. Hamish can tell Vera has something on her mind.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to break your already fragile walls."

"Hm."

And they don't sit close. And they don't hold each other. Not for a while, anyway.

Which is fine because they're both afraid of new memories resurfacing that neither of them want to deal with.

Until the urge to be close is greater than the fear of facing each other's past.

It's a hesitant touch, but with it comes forth happy memories, which is a pleasant surprise.

The day Vera's daughter was born and she fell in love for the first time. The moment Hamish realised that Tundra had really CHOSEN him and he was worth something. The day Vera was made Temple Magus and she was just so happy to be respected and to have a place where she belonged. The days Hamish met Cassie, Randall, Lilith and Jack and anyone else in between and realised he has a family who loves him with or without any special abilities and just because he was Hamish.

And it's so so so refreshing from the horrible and painful memories that they share that for a moment, they just sit together, explaining the memories and just . . . slowly falling deeper in love with each other without even noticing.

And each time they make contact after, it's a short blur of a few memories. Happy memories, sad memories, joyful memories, angry memories. It all depends on their moods when it happens. Luckily for them, it's mostly memories of being loved and accepted and wanted.

When Alyssa and Vera say that Hamish is leaving and he grabs her hand, Vera's struck with memories of blame and grief at losing Cassie because he wasn't there. She has to squeeze his hand remind him that she's not Cassie and he's not the young kid he was when Cassie died. She'll be okay.

And at the end, when she grabs his hand to tell him to stay, they share the same memory.

The day they fell in love.

No I'm not back on Vermish bullshit haha wdym

[yconic]

"Divorce is a special kind of pain. It's like death without a body, " is what they say when two halves of a whole heart separate.

Tony never understood when he was younger, never extended the notion of two people who gifted each other to eternity in union splitting up beyond 'Just not talking for a bit.'

He looked at it from a small perspective belonging to a small person, as if the people in question were just two good friends who couldn't decide on what game to play, hurt each other, and needed space.

His parents had done it more times than he cared to count. The frigid silences and artificial prompt politeness between the socialite power couple Howard and Maria Stark could last for two days, or two months, depending on how deep the issue picked out that time ran.

Tony sat straight as he watched the clock tick away, dutifully counting the hours that would bring Maria closer to home from whichever elicit travel affair she filled her time with while Howard closes himself into his workshop, stewing in anger and bitterness that leak out from the door he's not permitted to trespass.

He learns to measure the gravity of their squabbles, - If it's a small argument, Maria picks Germany, France, or Spain. She sends a letter stating the duration of her stay. She sends Tony well wishes, with a touch of formality for a mother, and her name is elegantly plastered on the bottom in cursive.

When Howard fucks up, she picked China, Britain, or Italy, and she disappeared from the earth until she emerged at her like. Howard is Howard, - the relationship between him and his son was too cold for Tony to tell how his father was like without the disdain gleaming in his eyes, but the liquor cabinet always needed at least a daily refill after a spectacular drama.

He looks back at those moments and realizes, with a shade of pity coated in something more sour, mellow but active, that divorce was never an option for them, the cycle of co-dependency and maintaining legacy had to be kept no matter how demanding that task was.

He can't bring himself to be angry when he feels so bad for them. All that money, and they couldn't buy a second of peace.

It doesn't take long for him to realize his parents don't love each other.

Tony was young, but he was never a child. He was naive, gullible, innocent, - but he was awake. While he didn't clearly understand what love was, he looked at the unhappy frowns on the miserable faces of the pair and thought: 'If that's how love looks like I want no part in it.'

He doesn't love people for more than one night, - A full week if their company was good enough to distract him from the rich golden color of his whiskey that gradually tastes bitter, and more bitter every time. It's not love, he knows, - He keeps that special for his family. But the kind of feeling he has with strangers, with nobody's with a name, resembles what he knows of love too much for him to change meaning.

He won't know how "love" feels like. He refuses to be the caged bird his mother was, to take form in the monster Howard let himself become.

Then, life gives him Steve.

He nests into Tony's life like a storm with skin, hair kissed by sunshine and eyes filled with an ocean that the brunette longs to sink into. He has a boyish charm to him, an old soul that swoops Tony off his feet. It makes him want to slow down, even if he belongs to the future, to activity, to progress. He wants to sit and listen to the stories Steve has, told in a Brooklyn swird that gives character to every word.

Steve looks at him like Rhodey told him all people should look at him. 'Like they can't see the status, or the money, or the power. Like they just see Tony, and nothing more. Because Tony will always be enough. ' Steve looks at him like he hangs the moon for him.

Tony never stood a chance. He looked at Steve, and thinks: "Oh, shit. He's It for me."

He just knows that this one, this Captain, decorated to the teeth, hiding in awkwardness at this petty mingling, social climbing Gala, lowering himself at the bar because he didn't know anybody, was made for him. And if Steve clings to Tony the whole night, he agrees with the parallel drawing out on his part.

He doesn't leave Tony's side, arm snug and comfortable around his middle like they've known each other for longer than time itself, and Tony loves it more than he has the courage to say.

Steve looks at him when the epilogue of the night strikes, too soon for either of their likings. He's tall, broad-shouldered, strong but has the softest eyes in the world. It hurts Tony to arch his neck to stare, but he doesn't want to miss a thing. "I've... I didn't laugh like that since I was in tour. You made my night, Tony."

"It's nothing, -" Because it really is. Considering the sins to his name, the least he can do to atone some mistakes is make as much people as happy as he can. And Happy is a great look on Steve.

He does learn one thing: When Steve says something, it stays how Steve says it. "No, its everything, Tony. I didn't smile once since coming home, " he croaks, like the confession pains him, and Tony aches alongside him. "Everyone is worried about me, saying that, that I seem upset, or sad, or just, never happy anymore, but how else am I supposed to feel?"

"You can't let others tell you how you feel, " Tony soothes, without thinking, a hand softly brushing against Steve's cheek. A frisson zaps through him at the feeling of the soldier's stubble spiking his skin. Steve leans into his touch like it's the most normal thing in the world. Tony's heart grows. "It's not even in your control, so why should it be in theirs? " He understands how Steve feels. More than the world would care to listen.

"Exactly. So, if it's not too much trouble, " his shyness compliments Tony's smitten. "Would you mind making me smile again?"

Tony is, utterly, indubitably, irrevocably, without a shade of doubt, fucked.

He smiles anyway. "You know, soldier, I think I could pull some strings."

---

Their love is like rain in June. It's mellow and distractingly peaceful, makes their worry and everything that ever went wrong scarce away. They can breathe around each other even when they feel like drowning. For once, Tony feels like it'll be okay.

But Life decides to do what it always does when Tony finds something good. It takes, and it takes, until there's nothing.

Steve tells him about Bucky. About the fallen brother that vanished in the mission that stole everything for Steve. "Only one soldier fell off that train, but two died that day, " God, Tony is so worried when Steve talks like that. "It should've been me. I wanted it to be me."

Tony listens and he pictures Rhodey falling. Steve loved Bucky in ways he couldn't even hope to understand.

It turns out, Death is not something so permanent after all.

It's a lovely night for them when Steve gets that call. He's wrapped around Tony and holds him in his arms as if he'd rather go to war again than let him go and Tony's heart never beat so loud for anyone. He would have never let Steve answer if he knew that phone call was the beginning of their end.

Bucky's alive again, is reborn from snow and war and ashes. Broken, but alive. Held captive by terrorists and is unmade, undid, but still alive. Everything around Steve is lost after that.

Tong gives him space and resources, help, support, he gives everything to Steve like on their wedding day. He gives him his care and gentle hands and soft words and love with a heartbeat. And Steve is just... Too preoccupied looking at Bucky to notice. Tony feels like a selfish bastard for wanting his soldier to look at HIM instead of coddling his friend at every moment notice.

He wants Steve to stop suffocating Bucky when he already looks like he's just inhaling instead of breathing.

He wants his husband back.

That's why he deserves what's coming to him. That's his punishment.

They drift apart slowly, as most terrible pains start.

Steve starts spending more and more time around the mental help facility Bucky asked to be enlisted into after his hasty return that had everyone clutching at their pearls. He wants to do it alone, Tony figures easily, starves for a journey he wants to walk himself, for the kind of autonomy only a man who lost it for too long craves.

His bitterness aside, Tony marvels at how similar they are. Maybe In another life, he and Barnes would've made a handsome pair of kindred souls.

Steve doesn't agree. He looks sickened, struck even, at Tony for having the Gall to suggest maybe Barnes would be more responsive if he talked with someone who had mirroring experiences. "God, Tony, you don't... You're not a soldier. You're just a man. You've been through pain, sure, but not like Bucky. No one went through what he did. I'm honestly speechless you ever thought you could compare."

Steve says that, it's why it hurts so bad. The man who swore he'd walk back into the hellfire of war just to find the people who hurt Tony and tear them apart.

The man who couldn't be moved by anything. No nightmare, no night terror, no panic attack, no argument. Nothing convinced Steve to leave. He stayed through it all.

The man who cried relentlessly when Rhodey walked Tony down the alter because 'He couldn't believe how lucky he was to marry someone so beautiful.'

The man who hasn't written Tony a love letter every morning like he used to do in over a year.

The man who spent more time sleeping in hospital rooms than in their bed.

The man who used to not go even one day without saying "I love you". Tony can't even remember the last time this sentence was spoken between them unless he said it first.

The man who agreed to couple therapy, then acted like it rained the next day.

Tony would will himself to shove this under the rug. To put a blind eye to it, to make it work, to ignore Rhodey's disapproval and Pepper's warm worry, to push away the pain blossoming in his chest, threatening to overspill.

But this man adopted a child with him.

---

"That one" Steve points to a small boy, thin but sturdy-looking even in the hand me downs from the orphanage, short limbs supporting a mess of brown hair that looks impossibly soft. His eyes are big and kind. Tony wants to take him home and feed him. "That one's ours."

His name is Peter, and he got into a fight with older kids when they wanted to stomp on ladybugs. He pushes back, but not unkindly. He's no bully. Instead, he takes the time to teach them why disrespecting and hurting nature is wrong, then takes their hands into his own, playing with the tiny creatures for hours.

Tony falls in love immediately. "Let's bring him home, Cap."

---

He can't do it. Tony can't look into Peter's adoring eyes, wide and brown that feel more like a mirror than anything, and see the fear he had for Howard, or the sadness for Maria. Tony can't handle looking at the love of his life and see another him.

Steve is Peter's role model. His knight in shining armor, his protector, everywhere he goes he sings praise to anyone who cares to listen. About his fearless father, his heroic antics that seem so tall for him. "My daddy's a superhero!" Tony doesn't have the heart to take that away.

And Tony loves Steve too much to see him become Howard.

So when Steve misses their son's 5th birthday party because he had more pressing business in D.C, Tony realizes bitterly, there's no saving this. People labeled him as a mechanic, a futurist, but he feels unworthy of both when he couldn't fix or foresee this.

There's no coming back from this.

Natasha doesn't voice it, but she doesn't need to. She tucks her phone away after a third failed attempt to coax, threaten, and guilt Steve into joining them, with muted movements, and Tony can tell she agrees.

Tony's grin is too wide when he looks down at Peter when he drags him off to paint his face, unaware of his father's turmoil. He laughs. He smiles. He celebrates. He has a nice day with his family.

He pulls Pepper aside and asks her to prepare his lawyers in the same breath.

This is why Tony knew love wasn't made for him.

---

Tony's always been good at hurting himself. The more pain he inflicts on himself, the less it'll hurt when someone else does it. So he unpacks the stash of letters he kept locked away in a seif, because they're prized to him, more than any sleek car or company, and reads them before he burns the bridge.

They feel like warm kisses and goodbyes.

'Left for a grocery jog, ran out of coffee. It's supposed to be cold, so don't you even think about leaving the house without a jacket! I'll know. Take care of yourself, even when I'm not there. '

' I love waking up next to you every morning. I love how you hide from the sun in my chest. I love how grumpy you are when Pepper calls for updates and all you do is cuddle me and whine. I love your messy bed hair and how you fall asleep in the shower.

'I never cared for jewelry before but seeing my ring around your finger never gets old. I still can't believe you said yes, but I'm glad you did. You deserve more, but you settled for someone like me. I can't believe it when you say no one would want you forever, I hate that someone made you think like that, that they let you go, but their biggest mistake is my biggest win. Jokes on them.'

'I can't imagine my life without you. Its all radio silence and broken static. Like an artist with a blank canvas and grey paint. You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, and the fact that I have you means there really is someone up there looking our for me. I'm never letting you go. I love you, I love you, I love you, '

Tony stains the paper with tears as he listens to the song of heartbreak in his chest.

---

"Nat, " Tony pleads, choosing not to look at the tremor in his hands as he neats the papers he wants to see burn. "There's no need for that, come on. You know I love you, but I'm a big boy. I don't need you to hold my hand for this."

Natasha shrugs. "Indulge me."

"He wouldn't do anything to me."

"I thought there were lots of things he wouldn't do. Like stop loving you, for one, " she doesn't mean to be a jab, but Tony strokes his right arm and lets the hurt wash off. He sometimes forgets how blunt and terrifying Pepper's wife is capable of being. "Being paranoid is worth being safe."

They find Steve in the kitchen, sitting stiff and unfamiliar as if he didn't design the place himself. Tony swallows down the pressure in his throat and forces his eyes to stay dry. He wants to rest his hands on Steve's shoulders and pepper the lines of laughter on his flushed face with kisses.

But they're behind that now.

Steve raises his eyes to look at him. He's tired, run-down, missing the spark Tony marked as one of his favorite traits of the blonde. The life wasted from them, telling Tony that he's surviving, but not living.

Tony looks at him back and his eyes say, 'Me too.'

Steve's mouth twists into an imitation of a smile, tries his luck at mimicking something of the reassurance and ease variety, to hide his emotions with a mask of cracked peace Tony undressed a million times, just as Steve undressed his. He's always been good at reading the man. Or, was.

Steve's eyes fall on the documents Tony's holding with his naked hands, no ring in sight, and Tony watches something die in him.

The room drowns in silence for a while.

Natasha stands as a loyal shadow at his side, silent but sharp, hands folded in front of her crotch like a guard dog waiting to pounce. There's a forced calm into her breathing that puts him even more on edge.

Papers brush smoothly above the marble surface, ear piercing to him. Red hot blazing into white noise. It's the most terrible sound he's ever heard. He prefers his breathless, agonized screams in Afghanistan to this.

Steve recoils away, standing up suddenly and shakily, as if the documents are bombs about to kill him anytime now.

He turns his head, refusing to look at them. Refuses to accept they're real.

"Throw those away, Tony, " he says, voice edged with the kind of suffering that would bring Tony to his knees on other circumstances."Get them the hell away from me and never bring them up again, you hear me? I'm serious.''

Carefully, Natasha chimes in, tone mild and neutral. " Steve. Tony would like to speak with you about something, alright? Let's sit down, and talk like grown-ups, -"

"Where's your ring!?" Steve shouts, tiptoeing at the border of desperate and hysteric. Tony wants back into the cave, wants the water to take him away from all of this. It's hard to kill something that's already dead. "What did you do with it!? Why aren't you wearing it!? You PROMISED me, you promised you'd never take it off you JERK, you lying -"

"And you promised to love me until the day we die, but by the looks of it we both could use a lesson in honesty, " Tony cuts icily, colder than colder. His words are resigned, hollow, at the brim of mechanical. He thinks all the people who say Starks are more machine than men had a point. "I'm the fuck up in this relationship. What's your excuse?"

He thought he'd feel vindication watching Steve taste a fraction of his sorrow, that his destroyed look would make something in Tony retaliate. It does nothing. Tony loves him stronger, fiercer, and there's no win here for anyone.

His mouth tastes like ashes.

He just wants to stop, to sink in his bed and swim in ratty hoodies drenched in cheap but sweet cologne, smudged with paint of all shades, and feel Steve's arms shield him from the world.

He wonders if it'll keep Steve up at night, how it never occurred to him that the danger he wanted to defend Tony from might have his face.

"I'll do better. Tony please," Steve begs him, and Tony wonders if the situation is so low a man with his nature would resort to that. He's shaken by big hands engulfing his own for exactly a moment before Natasha intervenes, pushing the blonde away with a hint of regret. Steve recovers, looks right through her at Tony who wants to wipe his tears away. "I'll do better, I'll- I'll spend less time with Bucky if you want, -"

"Bucky isn't the problem. It's not about HIM, it was never about him, this is US, Steve. We, our marriage, our family, its been here longer than Bucky. I never wanted you to - to erase him from your life, I just wanted my husband. Peter wanted his daddy. Bucky could've been apart of that, but you just, you just pushed us aside,-"

"I won't do that anymore. I, - Do you want me to be at home more often? I can, sweetheart, I can do that no problem. I can be at home, I can make time for dates and-and for activities, I can take Peter to the park and play ball, - Do you remember that? How we used to play until he fell asleep? I don't mind, its no problem, -"

Something in Tony snaps.

"WE'RE NOT YOUR FUCKING CHORES," His voice is more roar than man, ragged, tight, pushed to the last limit. The garden of silent pain, fury, rage, and fear he's been harboring finally blossomed into something that seemed to shake the world. His body shudders. "We're not some,- some pestering tasks that you have to save your precious time to complete! Some fucking pets other people have to force you to care of, or some dirty laundry you decide to wear whenever you feel like washing! We're your damn FAMILY,- " A sob hitches his anger, and by the broken look on Steve's face, it's worse than any rage.

He narrows his eyes in disbelief, as if Steve was some stranger and not someone he gave years of his life to. A laugh is pushed out of his chest, choked, long, and terrible. "I would've ended this sooner if, - God, if I knew how much of a burden we became for you."

"Tony, Tony don't say that, " Steve's face is blotched red, painted in punishing torment. "I love you and Peter more than anything in this life. You're mine, both of you, how can you think I don't love you? I, -"

"Just love Bucky more, " Tony finishes, note flat, accepting, rehearsed. His voice feels as hollow as his chest when Steve flinches. "I'm just... I'm so tired. Steve,I'm tired, and- I can't do it anymore. My son, my baby is not going to be a burden on anybody. I can put up with a lot of shit, but Peter is my limit. I can't and I won't put anyone above him. Not even you."

Horror shines bright and clear on the blue eyes Tony loves so much. He spots Steve's finger tremble at his sides, notices the hesitant movement of his Addams apple.

Natasha was wrong. It's a rare occurrence, but it happened.

Steve never stopped loving him.

It makes signing the papers so much harder.

---

Steve lost Bucky to ice, snow, and time. Tony loses Steve to fire, anger, and distance.

---

Pepper is surprised when she hears Steve ended up signing willingly.

She doesn't want to ruin the calm air that finally settled over the emotion packed atmosphere surrounding the living room, currently stashed with carton boxes filled with Steve's stuff, ready to be delivered tomorrow as Tony wanted, but it's a needed talk.

"What did you say to convince him?" She asks, not demanding an answer but clearly expecting one. "I'd just assume Nat had him in an arm lock until he agreed, but, in all honesty, Steve would probably lose an arm than do what people tell him to. Seriously, I've seen anarchists with more respect for authority than this guy."

Tony laughs, too loving and too fond for this predicament. "I said you'd drag his ass through every courtroom in America and drain him of everything he's worth?"

"Mmm. Try again. I mean, that's a Sunday for me, but he's already heard that talk before." Giggles are shared between the pair on the couch, snuggled under fuzzy blankets with wine glasses that clink slightly. Pepper's face relaxes into something sympathetic, earnest. "Was it something Peter related?"

"No, " he shakes his head. It never crossed his mind once, no matter how hurt he was. It felt too much like what his father would do. " Peter is his son, too. No matter what happens between us. There's no changing that. "

"No one would blame you if it came down to that, you know that, right?"

He hums. Pepper waits.

"I asked him to let me say goodbye to my husband instead of forcing me to stay with Howard."

A sharp intake of breath settles something cold beneath Tony's skin. He closes his eyes, and accepts the wine Pepper pours in his cup, neither commenting on how it spills over the rim.

---

Talking to Peter is the hardest part.

He doesn't understand why suddenly there's only two people there instead of three, why he isn't woken up by two pairs of arms tickling him and kissing his sleepy eyelids every morning, why Tony's laughter isn't echoing through the house as Steve spins and twists him around in the living room dance session they had at least once a week.

Why, apparently, Steve now has a permanent residence in DC and can only see him twice a week as their legal agreement states.

Why he has to live in two different places and split his playtime.

Why Tony bought a new apartment and they had to move away, stretching the distance between them and Steve.

"Is Papa comin' home today?" A hand squeezes Tony's heart painfully tight at the small question. He looks down at his son, smaller than usual and playing with his fingers at his feet. His frail shoulder raise, housing an anxious breath as he awaits an answer.

Tony takes his tiny hand in his own, leaning down to press kisses on the back of his son's palm, apology on his lips. "Yeah, baby. He has to come and pick up his stuff. Maybe you can play a little when he arrives! I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. "

Steve sends Sam to pick up his things and Tony feels guilt bite at him for hissing 'coward' in his mind.

Peter is excited to see his uncle Sam but the disappointment when he hears a truck coming instead of the deep rumble of a motorcycle engine doesn't wash off. He soldiers on, smiles for Sam because as little as he is, he's careful with people and their emotions. His goodness is organic. He takes after Steve like that.

Sam's always been frustratingly talented at deciphering his thoughts, even when his face is emotionless. It's one of the many reasons why Tony thinks him and Rhodey match so well. "He said he's really sorry he couldn't come, but... Okay, his excuse is just sad, because I doubt you'd believe he'd rather attend a Zoomba class than see you and Peter. Truth is, he's scared."

"Of facing me?"

"Of hurting you."

"Yeah, well, he's already got that job done on the to do list, " Tony huffs, petty and aware. He tosses Peter his baseball that lands in the backyard, gently nudging him away from the conversation. They watch the ball of energy squeal in delight as he runs to fetch it, tension momentarily on hold. "Sorry. You don't need my shit. Let's just load this and be done with it."

Sam huffs. "Man, I've been involved with your shit for a while. Appreciate the feeling but it's a bit late for that. Trust me, me and Rhodey have in length discussions about it. I'm neck-deep in white boy drama, but well, sacrifices of the job. Not much you can do."

He's playful, Tony knows this, in the corner of his brain that isn't raided by anxiety, yet fear claws at him, sharp and cruel and unexpected. Coldness spreads inside him like wildfire, almost matching the thoughts racing in his mind. Sam and Rhodey were talking? Were they arguing? Had Tony harmed Rhodey's relationship as if he didn't wreck his own enough?

"Talk?" Tony rasps, pushes the words out of his constricted throat that seems to close more and more, synchronizing with his lungs. Sam's wide, concerned eyes tells him the surface looked as bad as the inside."You... You and Rhodey, you guys- Bad talk? You, you fought about it?"

His mind torments him by showcasing Rhodey yelling in Sam's face and Sam yelling back, both standing their ground like two soldiers on a mission and defending their friends like avenging angels. Rhodey is more brother than friend, he'd take his side, like the devoted friend he always proved himself to be, but he watches with a cut breath as Rhodey locks himself in his room and weeps.

Rhodey sharing his fate is Tony's own horror movie.

"...ony! Tony, deep breaths, come on, " gentle hands guide him away from the void his own psyche trapped him into, speaking in a low voice that plucks him back up little by little. "Come on, in and out. Focus on my voice, that's good. Listen to me, Rhodey and I did not and will not fight about this. We're fine, Tony, promise! We agreed, no side pickers. This isn't war, and we won't get into some life or death fight for your and/or Steve's honor, " he tries for a little grin. ''I mean, I'm not supposed to tell you, but we don't like you guys that much."

Tony laughs, at once, a pathetically small sound, but he's grounded enough to laugh. He basks in the lack of sound around them, like the silence of an after battle, suffocating, but free.

The quiet hangs in the air as they load the truck, too, not oppressing, but welcomed, with a touch of comfort that burns just right. When the last box is secured and road-ready, him and Sam stay just a bit on the porch to stare at the house. Because that's what it is, isn't?

'Is papa comin' home?'

There is no home. Not if Steve's missing.

"Steve said you can keep those, if you want," that sentence made Tony hunch his shoulders, releasing that bitter aftertaste in his mouth again, blending with something sweet, and igniting the warmth that pierced as deep as his very marrow. "Nothing he loves or wants back is in those boxes."

Yes, Tony wants to scream. I want to keep the sketchbooks he has for me. I want to keep the photo albums. I want to keep the paint, the charcoal, the brushes. I want to keep the stuffed animals he won me at the fairs. I want to keep his clothes. I want to keep the dances in the living room. I want to keep his love, attention, care, worry, sadness, anger, grief. I want to keep my husband.

Instead, Tony reaches for his back pocket, and squeezes his ring. It burns in his palm, almost begging him to put it back in it's place, or on his finger, where it fitted like it always belonged. His being feels it, as if connected, and he decides to even the odds in the cowardice department.

Sam holds his breath as Tony hands him the ring, with hesitance, with no indication he wants to. "You sure about this?" It's a careful question, painfully gentle, far softer than Tony deserves.

No. Not by a long shot. "Yeah, " he mutters, almost lost in the air. "It's not mine anymore."

Sam curls his hand around the ring, pockets it, and Tony wrestles with the urge to ask for it back. His eyes are trained to the floor, on his shoes, the fine leather ones Steve bought for him on their anniversary, he realizes.

He watches droplets of water splash and dissolve into the concrete. It's raining, he figures, he should take Peter inside or he'll catch a cold. He looks up to watch the dark clouds, and the senine blue above mocks him.

"It's okay, " Rhodey picked a good one, Tony thinks, as Sam covers his crying form away from Peter's eyes. "It's okay, Tony. Just... Let it out. You earned this."

"I tried, " he sobs in Sam's neck, sobs his demise his failure, his bottled cocktail of emotions that waited to implode. "I tried, Sam, I tried so hard, I swear I did."

"We know you did, Tony. We all know."

---

Peter wants to meet Bucky one day.

"Papa used to talk about him all the time, " He says, oblivious to how vexed Tony is hearing that. He apprehends himself, reproaching that he should be over it already. "He sounds pretty cool! I want to see his Terminator arm!"

"It's a Tin Man or Robocop arm, at best, " He smirks at the pout Peter throws his way, smoothing it out with his thumb. "And he's in a hospital. You and I hate hospitals, remember?"

Peter whines and makes his eyes larger, pitifully glassy and sad, just the way to wrap Tony around his little finger. "Daddyyyy, pleeeease!" He hooks his fingers around his arm, hugging it close to his chest and his lower lip trembles.

He imagines Steve behind him, smothering a laugh in his shoulder, egging Peter on like two conspirational buddies. He melts, pushing the rush of yearning back, and knows it's a battle lost. Peter is too lovable, too determined, too bright eyed.

He's morbidly curious, in a way, to see what was so special about Bucky that it made Steve want to trade that.

---

Bucky and Peter hit it off in a heartbeat.

The facility hosting Bucky is uncomfortably pristine, from door corner to ceiling. Everything is tailored and arranged with ridiculous precision, clinical, professional, boring, and detached, as most medical spaces are. His workshop dances circles around it in the personality field, and he tells Bucky as such.

He laughs at him. "That's an interesting way to say you're a chronic untidy mess."

'Chronic untidy hot mess, " Tony corrects, hating how easily he falls into conversation with him. He tells himself it's merely a distraction from the stomach twisting smell of medicine, stingy and sharp smothering the air. "How offensive. I demand a trial by combat. Peter, make him pay in blood!"

Peter turns to Bucky, unblinking. "Your hair's greasy."

A theatrical gasps spreads in the room from the blue eyed brunette. Tony beams, kissing Peter's cheek. "That's my boy. I'm sure Bucky's bleeding a lot on the inside."

"Yeah. You know, where blood usually is, " Bucky snarks, heatless, propping Peter off from the spot on his leg and putting him on the ground . "Why don't you go ask nurse Joy to give you some magnets for the arm? Your father and I gotta talk adult business."

"Uncle Clint says adult business is just gossip for grown ups. " Peter retorts, smirk on his lips, half raising on the edges of his mouth. He got the smugness from him, that much Tony will admit. Bucky huffs a laugh that mirror Tony's own and waits for Peter to be out of the hearing range to say his next words.

"I owe you an apology."

Tony blinks, hastily, and speaks before he can even register what he's saying. "No, you don't. Drop it." It comes off razor sharp, yet Bucky must be used to worse, because he doesn't falter.

"I ruined your marriage. There's no forgiving that, but I DO regret it and you'll damn well listen to what I have to say."

"Look, I appreciate it. I do. I'm not... Mad at you. You're just in the crossfire of this clusterfuck. There's no forgiving because there's nothing to forgive, " he murmurs under his breath, words quiet, but sincere, he realizes. "My failure is my own to carry. "

"Stark, relationships need more than one person. Stevie ain't exactly blameless in this whole thing, - Far from it, trust me, I let him know. He got the scolding of the damn lifetime, because he threw away a damn good thing. He made a home for himself and then demolished it. You didn't hand him the sledgehammer, he picked it up on his own dumb self."

"You know, your philosophy lesson would impact me better with wizard lingo. Throw in a riddle or a prophecy and I might bite. " Receiving a blank stare to his quip, Tony sighed, eyes downcast.

"Look. I called it off, alright? I lit up the matches, I burned down the bridge, and I watched it turn to ash. But it was meant to happen, one way or another. We were just too different. Guys like me break the world apart. Men like Steve put it back together. He'll move forward. Like he always does."

Bucky's reply is instant. "No, no he won't, " it's said with such conviction, with such a finality, that it has Tony freezing. "He'll never move on. Not from this. I've never seen him like that for anybody, hell, never seen ANYONE like that. You and him? That's a forever kind of deal. You don't need a ring and name change for that to last. You don't have a choice."

Tony swallows, slowly, unsure. "So what? We just keep path crossing like fate has us tied together, in each other 's range but standing on parallel lines, never meant to cross? This isn't a fairytale, Barnes. It's real life. And even if it wasn't, that's still far from fair."

"It is real life. Which means it ain't fair, Stark. "

Tony takes Peter home, cuddles him closely as if he might disappear, and eyes the empty area around the right side of the bed with a lonely glint that burns in the darkness.

---

The first time Tony meets Steve after the divorce, it's for Natasha's birthday party.

Time jumps from slow to fast, alters between stagnation and overwhelming in the first 6 months that pass after the finalization of their parting. Some days are agonizingly slow. As if the world wants him to stomach every second, consume every minute, where Steve is not with him, isn't his anymore, and choke on the pain that tastes just as sharply as the first time.

And in some, time goes by in blink record, not keen on giving Tony the courtesy of healing, of moving on, of according him the patience or kindness in adapting his feelings to his pace, to accommodate to the arrangement it dragged him in.

Concern crawls inside him regardless of how many times he buries it, makes a tangly nest right in his chest, and makes no effort to move. He doesn't blame Steve for not wanting to meet him, to look at him, to give him the chance of staring into the bright, baby blue eyes that hold everything beautiful in the world.

Tony's seen the wonders of the world, all 8 them, and they all pale put next to Steve.

He feels seething, scalding guilt showering him for thinking that. Because Steve is not his to worry over, not his to call wonderful, not his to care for. Not anymore. He repeats that like a mantra against his eardrum when Natasha asks him if it's fine if she invites him to her party, too.

It's the perfect excuse to see how he's doing, but Tony elects to ignore that and remind Natasha grown-ass people don't ask other grown-ass people for permission on what to do. "Do I look like Pepper to you? No? Then why would I order you around?"

A discreet smile reaches Natasha's features, exhibiting confidence but betraying relief. She loves them both, Tony knows, and wants her friends first, not the fallen lovers. "Just wanted to know if I should hide the sharp knives or prepare some spare sheets."

His face heats ferociously, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears, and all the embarrassment in the world is worth listening to Natasha laugh. Something sharp-edged inside of him brittles at the prospect of seeing Steve, thought, and he holds his tongue from saying something of that nature won't happen.

In the company of his solitude and shame, Tony wonders later, is he afraid of seeing Steve again because he fears the blonde is not doing okay, or because he is?

Later on, he sees Steve stand in flash before him, chatting with some faceless figures, hair longer than last time and flattened slightly at the nape, sporting a beard that framed his gorgeous face perfectly. The impeccable balance between scruffy and well-groomed. Tony itched to run his fingers against it.

"It's the divorce beard, " Clint muses, elbow jolting Tony in the side to show the humor. "Give him a few more weeks, and you'll see him shopping from the Hobo shop. All wrinkled shirts and ketchup stained clothes or something. Men are useless without their wives.'' He winks in Tony's way, but Tony is too entranced by Steve to acknowledge it.

His fists are bruised, Tony notes with a wince as he gets drunk on Steve's form with a studious gaze, creamy skin battered and laced in a cluster of dark purple, crimson, and small patches of yellow shaping his knucklebones.

A trail of question rests blistering on his tongue. 'What happened? Who did that? Who were you fighting? Why? Are you okay? Did you win?' But he closes his eyes and bites his tongue, knowing these questions don't belong to him anymore.

He gave up his rights to that.

But then, Tony spots them.

His breath is knocked out of his lungs in a silent punch, eardrums pushing out all the sound attempting to penetrate his ears. His fingers loosen so much they almost drop his water, feeling tingly numb. Tony's eyes, large and surprised, trace the circle of gold curled around Steve's fourth finger, gleaming softly against the artificial light around the dining room.

Steve is still wearing his ring.

But then, his chest burns and booms, heart roars fiercely behind his ribcage as he notices the thin string of black leather circling around Steve's neck, loose as a necklace, hanging low enough for Tony to eye the shape of metal halo looped right in the middle of the material.

Steve was wearing Tony's ring, too.

The realization left him petrified in place, more statue than man, in stunned shock as he bore into his former lover who only then noticed the brown eyes looking at him, transparent astonishment clear as crystal in his features.

It's like a spell breaks.

Tony's limbs move mechanically, on autopilot, running to the nearest room, getting himself away from what his body detects as danger. Urgency is packed on his step, taking him to the bathroom in record time, but Steve's always been the runner, more athletic between them, and his sprinting lands him a spot in the sleat Tony wass about to slam.

He's pinned to a wall effective immediately, feels cold tiles plant clammy kisses on the back of his head and neck. Tony almost hisses at the force of the slam, but before he can make a peep, his lips are stolen in a savage, fierce kiss.

It's pure desperation conveyed in the most unconventional way. Steve pounces on him, lips wild against Tony's own, pouring every emotion he went through in the past few months,- Longing, yearning, craving, hunger, desire, - his being, his love, his soul into that kiss, barely giving Tony the chance to breathe.

"St-Steve, " He gasps, head tilting slightly to the side to escape the ministrations, to gulp air, moving to avoid the chase at reconnection Steve is playing at by trying to capture his lips again. "Wait, wait a minute, -"

"Missed you, " Steve's voice is thick with want, hitching in the small puffs of air that came off raggedy and breathless, words melting over Tony's mouth. Steve's face glows with a blush he wants to kiss with inhuman greed. "I missed you, I missed you,Tony I missed you" Tony's fucked.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Bad Manners (S2, E5)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:35 - Martin totally thought John Watkins abducted and killed Ainsley. Mark my words. 

0:44 - Holy. Shit. Ainsley is FIVE years old (or younger) here right? A five year old with that much determination?!?! She literally stayed silent in that clock for probably hours......and no one was concerned about this kid when Martin was arrested because...?

1:09 - Anyone else impressed with Malcolm’s aim here? Just me?

1:20 - Gil and Malcolm talking about sleep and murder is so freaking sweet. <3 Honestly, they’re acting like friends instead of co-workers and it warms my cold dead heart. 

1:29 - Does Gil become a grumpy old man when he doesn’t get 8 hours sleep? I really want to know now. 

1:39 - OMG. Gil pointing at Ainsley here is hilarious. He’s totally acting like some weird mix of a stern pissed off high-school teacher, and a step-dad trying to discipline an unruly teen. hahaha AND MALCOLM’S FACE. Look how done Malcolm is. He looks so so tired, sad, and exasperated. 

1:44 - Wow. Girl power. Ainsley has those camera guys bending to her will. I honestly would’ve thought they would just read the situation and turn the camera off themselves. 

1:47 - “It’s not a game.” Yikes. I have thoughts about this:

Malcolm is right - it’s not a game. 

Malcolm is a bit of a hypocrite for saying that to Ainsley. Although, to his credit even when Malcolm is excited/inappropriately happy about murder it’s always pretty clear that he thinks murder is wrong, and that he has sympathy for the victims and their families. 

Ainsley does not have that same sympathy for the victims. That much is clear later in this episode. 

Pretty sure the writers are trying to turn Ainsley into a serial killer this season. 

2:13 - “You know I like to share these things with my friends.” .....does this mean Malcolm thinks Dani and JT are his friends now? Last I checked (Ep 1x05) Malcolm didn’t have friends. This absolutely melts my heart. <3 I’m honestly so happy that Malcolm considers someone other than Gil to be his friend.

2:18 - “We lost Dani to vice.” .....What is vice? AND WHAT IS THE REAL LIFE REASON THAT DANI WASN’T IN THIS EPISODE?!? 

2:19 - Edrisa has a medical degree right? She has to know how dangerous consuming that much caffeine is right? Plus aren’t energy drinks super dangerous if you drink a lot of them (or maybe that’s just what adults in my neighbourhood told kids)?

2:30 - Edrisa SHINES in this episode. She’s so funny and awkward and I just love her. 

2:36 - hahaha Gil has adopted the whole team. Look at him throwing the “Dad warning stare” at Edrisa. 

3:31 - Why does Edrisa start bouncing around looking upset when Malcolm says, “rejection is a powerful motivator”?!?! Has she recently been broken up with or something? Is this a reference to how she has a crush on Malcolm (who doesn’t reciprocate)? I WANT MORE INFORMATION.

3:47 - TWIZZLERS!!! <3 Damn I love how this tiny detail about Malcolm’s character keeps coming up. 

3:55 - Ainsley is on a rampage this episode. She’s so determined ...actually she’s acting a lot like Jessica (think girl in the box bracelet). However, unlike Jessica, Ainsley’s motives aren’t about justice or the safety of her loved ones.  Ainsley is chasing personal gain (career) with a side of (a subconscious?) need to be exposed to murder and her father’s twisted world. 

4:05 - This whole interaction between Ainsley and Malcolm is really interesting. Ainsley is knowingly manipulating Malcolm to get the answers she wants. We’ve seen her do it in 2x4 and 1x19. She knows her big brother would do anything for her. It makes sense, they’re five years apart and after the trauma they experienced as children Malcolm felt responsible to protect Ainsley. He never wants to disappoint Ainsley. Not a burden he should’ve had to deal with but I digress. PLUS Malcolm looks weary of Ainsley here. He knows what she’s doing. He’s scared that she’s turning to the dark side. But he still gives her the answers because if he doesn’t - that means something has changed. He thinks that would make Ainsley suspicious and then she might remember what happened to Endicott. He’s scared of and for Ainsley. 

4:32 - OKAY. I’ll say it. The thing that annoys me the most about this episode is that it suggests that Ainsley was a debutant when in 1x6 AINSLEY TELLS MARTIN SHE WAS NEVER A DEBUTANT. She went to etiquette school - I guess that doesn’t strictly mean she also did debutant balls but it sort of suggests it in the context of this episode? Did she actually graduate from the etiquette school (there was bullying, maybe she was expelled/dropped out similar to Malcolm and Remington?)?

4:59 - “No stabbies” OMG. How is this show not classified as a comedy?!? Istg I laugh harder watching this ‘drama’ then I do watching most of the shows that call themselves ‘comedies’.

5:35 - It’s honestly kind of amazing that Ainsley and Malcolm are as ‘sane’ as they are. They were raised by a stubborn predatory psychopath and a stubborn rich meddling socialite. They had no chance of normalcy. Look at the amount of pleasure Martin is currently getting by throwing his son under the bus with regards to Jessica. 

 5:45 - “No actually, I cleaned it up.”.....does this have a dual meaning? Did Martin do something to make Malcolm dispose of the body? We already know that Martin has tried some sort of conditioning on Malcolm (remember ‘C’mon boy!’ from 1x14? The stabbing?). What if Martin said some sort of trigger word to control Malcolm and coerced Malcolm into getting rid of the body? What if this isn’t the first time?

6:05 - Ainsley is a sociopath. I’m calling it again. I called it when I first watched Q&A (1x7) because the way she treated Malcolm was more than just selfish/careless. It was cruel and she didn’t feel any remorse for literally broadcasting her brother’s private health details on television. That is messed up. I honestly won’t be shocked if the writers make Ainsley a full blown serial killers (although I’m not sure I want that because I don’t know how Malcolm would remain the main character if the story goes in that direction?). 

6:12 - Poor Jessica. I honestly feel really bad for her. Sure, she’s a headstrong alcohol dependant crazy rich woman. She also has a good heart. She’s been dealt a pretty shitty hand when it comes to relationships (minus Gil but she ruined that because she’s a MORON) and now she’s terrified that her own children have become monsters and she blames herself. She definitely hasn’t been a perfect mother but I don’t think she’s to blame for Ainsley and Malcolm’s obsession with murder. If these kids had a different bio dad, they would probably just have a low-key drug problem or some other common rich kid baggage. 

6:15 - “You know that’s not how cancer works right?” LOL. hahahaha

6:33 - Martin kind of has a point. There’s no rehab for murder. That’s why he’s been in jail for 20 years and he still wants to kill people. In my opinion, given what we’ve seen of Ainsley’s personality: as soon as she fully remembers that night - she’s gone. She’ll go full serial killer and Jessica and Malcolm will lose her forever. 

6:40 - Jessica’s little jazz hand finger twinkle as she spins on her heel and leaves Martin kills me. It’s so extra. It’s so funny. And it’s sooo Jessica. 

6:47 - Damn. Martin is pissed. I’m worried. That’s murder-level rage. If he escapes ISTG Martin is going to try and kill Gil. For so many reasons 1) because he hates Gil, 2) it’ll hurt Jessica, and 3) killing Gil will eliminate his ‘Dad’ competition. 

6:54 - Edrisa on caffeine is AMAZING.

7:43 - I love Edrisa but her blatant, unreciprocated crush on Malcolm is honestly getting a little creepy. 

7:52 - Gil spent all last season drinking out of a Yankee’s mug. Doesn’t that mean he’s a baseball fan? Why doesn’t he know this pitcher guy?

7:56 - hahahaa “Where is JT?” Because obviously JT is the team sports fan. 

8:22 - Does Gil get nightmares about cases? He always seems really uncomfortable around the dead bodies. 

8:45 - “And suddenly I’m wide awake” SERIOUSLY - is anyone else laughing every 60 seconds when they watch this show? Is my sense of humour just super dark and messed up?

8:54 - YES. The liquorice is BACK.

9:00 - I love Malcolm talking to JT about his obsession with candy. I love how Malcolm doesn’t even hesitate before giving JT an honest answer. Malcolm is acting like JT’s annoying little brother and I am here for it. One thing I did notice though - Malcolm specifically mentions candy+dopamine but doesn’t mention his depression/anxiety. Processed sugar can be a short-term (unhealthy) way to boost your mood. It’s why some people eat their feelings. I really want more backstory about Malcolm with the lollipops and licorice though. 

9:19 - “But you didn’t do anything wrong.” Awwww Malcolm is so soft here. I love how much he genuinely cares about JT. <3 I love how JT is comfortable enough with Malcolm to give him an honest answer. <3 THEIR RELATIONSHIP HAS GONE THROUGH SUCH A GLOW UP. <3 

9:32 - “Like toy dolls?” hahaha the way Malcolm perked up here. All I could think was “SQUIRREL!” hahaha. 

9:41 - Malcolm is doing better than he has been the past few episodes? I mean he’s still suffering and he’s still in a terrible mental state. BUT he also seems happier? IDK maybe he’s just entered the more manic nervous energy stage of his emotions as opposed to the depressed and scared stage. 

9:49 - “Deep childhood trauma”. So we’re looking for a debutant killer with childhood trauma who is chasing perfection? Debutant = rich lady culture. Like Ainsley. AND Ainsley went to the same etiquette school as the first two victims. The writer’s wanted us to assume the killer was Ainsley for the first 15 mins of this episode right? I’m not the only one seeing it?

10:04 - “My sister went there too.” ....why is there something super attractive about the way that line was delivered?

10:08 - I’m so done with this absolute tom foolery. Why does the team keep splitting up into two teams - where one team is JUST MALCOLM. The one who is unarmed and technically a civilian?!? This makes no logical sense to me (except for plot).

10:25 - Was Martin just about to say, “Just like the old days”?!? Is Martin referring to Endicott? OR is Martin referring to something that Malcolm’s repressed from his childhood?

10:30 - “I always root for the bad guys.” .....finally some truth from Martin.

10:40 - Soooooo I guess Mr. David doesn’t know? I promise you Mr. David has suspicions though. How could he not?!?!

11:24 - “It was brutal for Ains.” Look at how sad Malcolm is! Ugh. This hurts so much. He clearly loves his sister so so much and what she’s done is slowly killing him. I honestly think that part of the reason Malcolm helped Ainsley dispose of the body is that Malcolm doesn’t want to loose his sister. His sister is one of the only good things he’s always been able to count on. If word gets around that she’s a killer - Malcolm’s fragile world gets shattered a little more and I don’t know if Malcolm can recover mentally from that. 

11:36 - “Teasing made her capable of...stuff.” C’MON. There’s no way Mr. David doesn’t know. 

11:45 - Sooo is Martin saying that he recognized that Ainsley was a sociopath when she was a small child? Or did she just respond to his (or John Watkins’) grooming much ‘better’ than Malcolm?

11:56 - “Because she’s her mother’s” Okay. So I see the point. I can see that Ainsley is driven and stubborn like Jessica. BUT it feels like Martin is suggesting that Jessica is capable of murder? Which - I honestly don’t think she is. If anything - Malcolm is more like Jessica than Ainsley is.

11:59 - There was a look in Martin’s eyes when he was comparing Ainsley to Jessica that really freaked me out. I can’t figure out why. It makes me wonder if Martin still somehow views Jessica as ‘his possession’ (he refers to her as his wife all the time but I always assumed that was just to get a rise out of people?). Martin’s dream from 2x4 certainly suggests that he still wants Jessica romantically. I honestly think he’s going to try to escape and rekindle the romance with Jess; and it’s going to go very poorly when Jessica rejects him. 

12:06 - Preach JT. Preach. This is creepy af. 

13:00 - Ugh. Of course this creep has a history of indecent exposure. Now I understand why Gil and JT were hostile with the dude right from the start. 

13:12 - Man. People will use the Bible to justify anything. No wonder people hate Christians ( I say this as a practicing Christian).

13:18 - JT is such a good dude. I’m so glad he’s a dad now. <3 He’s going to be such a good one. <3

13:26 - “One phone call and this place will be shut down.” OH SHIT. GIL THAT IS VICIOUS AND I RESPECT THE SHIT OUT OF IT.

13:35 - I soooo thought that dude was going to sprint out of that room. 

14:30 - THIS. YES. This is why I have a problem with Ainsley’s enthusiasm for murder vs. Malcolm’s. Ainsley’s enthusiasm is centred on her nee to ‘get the story’. She’s obsessed with forwarding her career and as a result she’s treating crime like a competitive sport. Malcolm’s obsession (while it can border on creepy and reckless) is always centred on his need to find the killer and stop the murders. Malcolm is seeking justice and his heart is in the right place. I can’t say the same for Ainsley.

14:31 - “We’re brother and sister, everything is a competitive sport”.....whoever wrote this doesn’t have a sibling they experienced trauma with as a kid (and as a result was raised by a single parent). Seriously, my dad was abusive he lived with us until I was 10 and my brother was 7. Then my parents got divorced and my mom was a single parent (he didn’t pay child support or see his kids after the divorce). Are my brother and I competitive? Sure sometimes. But the way we grew up forced us to become partners. Annoyed with Mom? Let’s rant about it together. Is he struggling in math? I’ll tutor him in exchange for a Reese cup. Am I struggling at daycare because I have massive social anxiety? He’ll include me in whatever he’s doing so I’m not sitting alone in a corner. My point: siblings who experience trauma together don’t have the typical sibling relationships that are widely televised in North America. There’s a lot less fighting and competition and a lot more teaming up and commiserating. 

14:39 - “It. It’s terrible.” - Notice how Ainsley didn’t actually say how it made her feel? She gave the standard “TV response” to a murder “a terrible/horrific/tragedy has occurred”. She doesn’t feel bad that these women are dead. She’s too consumed with getting a story to even stop and let herself feel anything. I’ve been saying it since last season - the way Ainsley shows no regard for other people and their feelings when she’s obsessed with her job is concerning. 

14:50 - “Remind me of the people who cut us off after Dad’s arrest.” ...Are you kidding me?!? The whole fandom has been speculating about this since early season one and they’re not going to elaborate on that line?!? I’m going to need some more information about this and it better be in the upcoming episode where Jessica’s younger sister appears. 

15:40 - She thinks of her students as family? Sooo what does she think of Ainsley? Wasn’t Ainsley bullied at this school? Did she do anything about it? 

16:00 - this is like a ‘weekend/evening school’ right? Kids aren’t living in this house like a boarding school/summer camp?

16:01 - “Mr. Whitly” UGH. This bitch preaches etiquette and she doesn’t even have the common courtesy to call Malcolm by the name with which he introduced himself? Nah. I don’t like her. 

16:13 - Ugh. Ainsley, seriously? Why don’t you help your brother solve the case. AND PREVENT MORE MURDERS. Why are you indirectly but purposely obstructing justice?

16:37 - “Of course.” Huh. Do you think Martin might try and manipulate Ainsley into killing Malcolm? Ainsley definitely capable of it. She doesn’t actually seem to care about Malcolm nearly as much as he cares about her. 

17:17 - WTF?!? That’s creepy af. How did no one in this show think this assistant was a suspect? She has a super creepy doll that she ‘forgot’ on the floor the middle of a hallway. AND THE DOLL WAS STANDING UP. Not sitting, not dropped carelessly, STANDING UP.

17:30 - Look at Malcolm’s face. He’s definitely going to be having nightmares about that doll. 

18:25 - OMG. This was amazing. JT just totally bulldozed his way into catching that dude. Very badass. Also kind of funny (maybe that’s just my messed up sense of humour again?).

18:44 - Ugh. This dude has a thing for dolls. I don’t want to kink shame but - no. no. There’s something really gross about that.  

18:48 - I’ve seen some people say that this doll looks like Ainsley and how that’s supposed to be some sort of foreshadowing/symbolism. I kind of see it? I mean the hair colour is similar and if you pause the screen at 18:48 the angle kind of looks like Ainsley? It would be an interesting metaphor though - Ainsley played with dolls as a little girl. John Watkins gave her angel statues. She is Watkins’ and Martin’s doll’ in the sense that she was the object that murders manipulated/groomed. 

18:53 - Then again, pause the screen here and there’s something about the facial structure that looks like Dani to me. 

19:00 - Jessica lets Ainsley work in the murder office?!? No. No she doesn’t. This is garbage. Jessica would’ve forbade it. Jessica would’ve bordered up this room immediately after Watkins.

19:57 - Poor Jessica. She’s clearly terrified that she’s losing Ainsley and terrified of Ainsley. BUT Jess, sweetie, running to Europe won’t fix this. 

20:16 - “She wanted the dolls to look like her students.” AND PEOPLE SEND THEIR CHILDREN TO HER?!? WTF?!? NO. NO. NO. NOT OKAY. 

20:31 - HAHA look at Gil’s face when Trevor tells him he can make the ‘perfect woman’. Gil’s like WTF - can I arrest you for thinking you can fabricate a ‘perfect woman’?!!?

21:06 - Malcolm is having so much fun playing with Trevor’s doll head. Look at how excited he is. It’s kind of adorable but his manic energy is showing which is concerning. 

21:10 - Why is Trevor giving his doll fancy 1940s(ish) names? 

21:31 - Props to LDP. I honestly believed Gil was annoyed with Malcolm for barging in on the interrogation the first time I watched this. 

21:42 - “They got a word for everything.” hahaha OMG. This is so reminiscent of a teenager explaining some new tech to their tech-illiterate parents. 

22:00 - I can’t tell if Gil feels sorry for this creep or if he just thinks the dude is really gross. Probably a mixture. 

23:00 - Oh we’re bringing up the chloroform again. At least Malcolm knows not listen to Martin about this nonsense. 

23:25 - “It doesn’t feel fun.” - THIS. This is why I honestly don’t think Malcolm will ever become a serial killer. His guilt complex is just too big.

23:56 - Are. You. Kidding. Me? This is next level. Ainsley is so out of line here. AND SHE SHOWS NO REMORSE. SHE DOESN’T THINK SHE’S DONE ANYTHING WRONG. THIS GIRL HAS GONE DARK SIDE (she was already halfway there).

24:17 - I’m getting papa!Gil vibes when Gil is talking to Ainsley and I want more scenes of them interacting. Seriously, did Gil have a relationship with Ainsley when she was a kid? I MUST KNOW.

24:45 - Ainsley has no conscience. I honestly don’t think Ainsley has a conscience. 

25:00 - “Who is that!?” Malcolm is totally acting like he’s Ainsley’s father-figure right now. I’m here for it. 

25:22 - SORE LOSERS?!? I’m sorry. What? If you weren’t concerned about Ainsley you damn well should be now. That is seriously messed up. People are dead. This is not a game. Do you know who else thought murder was a game? Martin Whitly.

25:31 - Okay. Ainsley has a point. Malcolm lecturing anyone about being reckless is pretty hypocritical. But at least Malcolm cares about her. 

25:54 - Heart. Shattered. Look at how terrified Jessica is. Look at how gentle and reassuring Gil is. UGh. WHY DID SHE BREAK UP WITH HIM??! I mean, I know why I just think she’s a moron for doing it. 

26:00 - Poor Gil. He’s so confused and so concerned. The whole Whitly family is acting crazier then usual and he doesn’t know why. 

26:11 - “Both you and Malcolm are at an 11 and I’ve never seen Ainsley like that.” FIND YOURSELF A MAN WHO CARES LIKE GIL AND NEVER LET HIM GO. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 Seriously. The love and concern he shows for this family warms my cold dead heart. 

26:16 - “Her father?!” Oh shit. Now Gil knows there’s something BIG happening. Jessica would never run to Martin unless she absolutely had to. 

26:19 - annnnd Gil’s also being a prideful man who’s feeling are hurt. “You went to him?” He’s right to be though - the woman he loves went to a serial killer for advice before going to the guy who practically co-parented with her. 

26:33 - “I’m here. Whatever you need. I’m here.” <3 <3 Gil is the definition of a good man. <3 I’m in love with it. 

26:48 - “You were right on time for me.” ....*snort* subtle Gil (and in front of JT!!)

27:08 - Edrisa is hysterical on caffeine. hahaha. This whole scene is perfect. 

27:20 - You know someone is acting manic when Malcolm Bright is concerned about their eccentric behaviour. 

27:34 - Annnnnd Tom Payne was a split second from breaking character here. I don’t blame him. hahaha

28:05 - EDRISA flipping and dropping that pencil. HAHAHAHAHAHA

29:10 - “Absolutely not.” hahaha this is funny but also really sweet. Malcolm knows that Edrisa hopped up on caffeine isn’t safe to have near an active killer. Who knows what’ll happen. I wish he’d care that much about his own well being. Looks like calling for backup last episode was a one time thing. 

30:37 - I’ll give the writers one thing - Miss Windsor makes a convincing murder suspect.

31:22 - GIL. STANDING. UP. FOR. JT. IS. EVERYTHING. Where is O’Malley’s back up? Oh yeah, they’re not brave enough to defend him.

32:00 - Huh. Bright texted for backup. This is growth. I’m proud of him. 

32:15 - YES. This JT arc was handled right. Sure JT could’ve complained. It would’ve been episodes upon episodes of bureaucratic nightmares and injustice. This show isn’t about racism. They showed enough to portray that the system is broken and they had JT act like a responsible adult. It’s not fair that JT had to go through this or that he’ll likely experience something similar to it again. But the fact that JT is acting like a bigger person is perfect. JT will protect his family. Always. That includes Malcolm. So JT avoids putting through a formal complaint because he knows that will take time away from doing his job, from protecting others, from hanging out with his wife and kid. JT’s taking the higher road, it might not be gratifying or fair but I respect the hell out of him for taking it. 

32:28 - Gil is so so proud of JT. Look at him. <3 <3 

33:40 - Look, Miss Windsor is a bit of a stuck up bitch but she has a good heart. Look at the way she immediately tells Malcolm where Ainsley is when she realizes what’s happening. 

34:14 - This confused me during the first watch - Ainsley obviously didn’t drink any tea - so why is she drugged? (obviously I know now). 

34:17 - Big brother Malcolm frantically looking for Ainsley is so so sweet. <3 

35:42 - The music, the dolls, and Miss Windsor’s speech here. There’s something about this part of the episode that is strangely reminiscent of 5x16 of Criminal Minds.

36:20 - ......does Miss Windsor have some sort of mental illness? She’s talking to herself and ranting erratically. Is this just emotional stress or something deeper?

37:00 - This is why Malcolm’s not a serial killer. Even now- looking at a killer - he’s trying to sympathize with her. He’s trying to understand why. He’s trying to calm her down, diffuse the threat, and get her mental help. 

39:00 - Oh yeah. Ainsley was definitely going to kill without remorse. Again. I’ve seen some theories that Ainsley only ever tries to kill to protect Malcolm. I disagree. I think Ainsley’s trying to protect herself. Ainsley is pissed off that this girl tried to drug her and kill her because she thinks Ainsley is wicked. Ainsley was pissed at Endicott for whatever he did to Ainsley before Malcolm got there. I think Ainsley felt threatened and scared so she reacted. I don’t think this has anything to do with protecting Malcolm.

39:41 - Malcolm isn’t a killer. Look. He smells gas but he takes the time to carry an unconscious murderer (who literally just tried to kill his sister) out of the building. 

40:00 - The drama. Holy hell. What a weird ending to this case.

40:48 - Who gave Ainsley a police jacket and let her keep it?

41:14 - She almost died and she’s still obsessing over ‘winning’. This is seriously unstable behaviour. Way more concerning than anything Malcolm’s done since 2x1. 

41:45 - “My father was a serial killer also.” Anyone else super irritated by that phrasing?!?  Just me?!? Something about the ‘also’ feels super wrong to me.

41:53 - Oh sweetie. I’d argue that you are more messed up than Malcolm. 

42:06 - Jessica went to see Martin twice in one episode. THIS IS BAD.

42:15 - “Maybe even more so than Malcolm if that’s possible.” Jessica knows her kids. I’m on her side here. 

42:20 - Martin is way too happy about Ainsley showing signs of serial killing. 

42:30 - Jessica? You married an act. That man never existed. He’s always been a serial killer. You just didn’t know it. He’s manipulative and you were a victim to it. 

42:50 - “A partner.” OH THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL. ESPECIALLY FOR THE GIL/JESSICA ARC.

Okay....so definitely the weakest episode of the season so far. AND the fact that we got no mention of Tally and/or the baby this episode is a crime. 

BUT I’M SO SO SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE. It’s going to be a televised fanfic and I can’t wait. 

[blairwaldcrf]

my boyfriend's girlfriend- gossip girl

Summary: nate/dan/blair drabbles

i will always blame (with love) @bisexualdanhumphrey for my recent agenda

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When Nate is asked if he's had his first kiss at 8 years old, his father steps in and lies. Of course, haven't you seen him and Blair?  

In actuality Howard Archibald had caught Nate "practicing" kissing with Chuck in the toy room just a week ago. It was Chuck that had given the easy lie about it that way, and Nate didn’t understand why, but pretending they're practicing for girls makes his father happy so he doesn't disagree.

I'm just playing a pretend father and practicing for future girls, Nate tells the people who ask why he spends so much  time with Dan Humphrey and his new baby. After all, he doesn't want to come out as bisexual when he and Dan are only barely finding a new rhythm as they move from friends, to lovers, to roommates, and by extension of that and Milo, co-parents… This, smiling as he watches Dan cave into sleep while still in the middle of holding up and giving Milo his bottle, deserves more than another snarky Gossip Girl scandal post.

….

At first glance after having kissed Dan, he had thought he was going to resent Milo. Surely now that Dan had a child, Nate's timing was off and Dan would give him a sad "sorry, but..." He starts to until the second Milo cries for a bottle but Dan can't quite make it one handedly in the wake of Georgina's very recent departure and so Nate is handed the baby once again.

He fumbles for the words to tell Dan to wait, he'll make the bottle, he's bad with kids-- but then Milo stops crying the second Nate turns him around and offers a panicked smile.

Dan backs out of the kitchen immediately. "Do that again."

"What, smile?" Nate asked incredulously.

"Whatever you just did," Dan repeats so desperately it's almost comical.

So he does it again, and when Milo gives the sweetest laugh only a baby can give, Nate's heart melts.

Finally , he thinks to himself before he can review the implications later that night before falling asleep. Finally something meaningful I'm good at . Dan is ecstatic that the cure to Milo's colic seems to be Nate comforting his son (if not only for sleep) and Milo is the child who depends on Nate's smile in such an innocent way. How had his mother and family expected him to use a fake smile for cameras and politics when the only one who truly cared about the way his lips curled could be cradled in two arms?

The first time he picks Milo up correctly on instinct he feels like he's five again, showing off to his mother that he can ride without training wheels. "Dan. Dan! Look!"

Said brunette gave him a quizzical look at first, in the middle of folding laundry, but then laughs freely upon realizing. "Finally."

Milo coos at the sound laughter like always, and Nate's smile grows even further.

….

When Dan & Blair first accidentally meet at some film showing at the forum that Nate was more than happy to babysit Milo for than attend, Nate hears all night about how Blair's opinions on the entire movie are either spot on or completely ridiculous. The volley back and forth as Dan describes them to him in turn, "I don't get how she can agree with that when…", "Can you believe she…" makes him raise an eyebrow, but he lets the passionate rant subside and instead orders dinner. Something light for the summer. More movies are seen, sometimes with Nate attending as well when Rufus can babysit. Blair insists on sitting in the very middle of the seating so she can be dead straight to the screen, and then steals Nate or Dan’s popcorn even when they try to get her one of her own. Summer turns out better than expected like this.

Then Dan complains about Blair almost every night the first week of interning at W Magazine, and Nate has to remind him repeatedly that they're friends now. Dan needs the opportunity to intern so he'll have a passing job soon to afford Milo, though, so the pleas go unheard. When Nate bothers to drop in on Blair and ask her to create some peace treaty, it’s useless. Dan pulls a Blair and Blair pulls a Dan, but in the end it’s clear that their budding friendship is heading into better territory than it ever had been.

It's a long year of Dan & Nate trying desperately to avoid the schemes of their friends, taking in turns who had to babysit Milo. By the end of spring, Blair is engaged to a prince and Nate almost feels relieved. He'd never say so to Dan.

The engagement doesn't last anyway. Blair is pregnant and scared, and by the end of the month when Blair finds out that the baby is Chuck’s, she moves into the Brooklyn loft and away from the Upper East Side at Dan’s request. Nate can’t get the image of a broken window and Blair fleeing after the attack at the penthouse out of his mind.

….

“Are we sure murder isn’t on the table?” Dan asks angrily, staring down at the computer Jenny is working on beside Blair. The two women’s apologies and forgiveness had been strained and their being in the same room without killing each other was tenuous, but in the end they were both victims of Chuck and that bonded them more than split them up when all was brought to light.

That, and Dan refused to let Blair continue to hide in the Brooklyn loft without a full confrontation about Jenny.

“Dan.” Nate chastises, head pointing to Blair. With a small sigh, he apologizes, but he doesn’t look any less moody. There had never been good blood between Dan and Chuck, for good reason, but now that he had found out that Chuck had yet again assaulted someone, and  Blair at that, he was vengeful. Luckily, Dan wasn’t the kind to hire a hitman.

He was the type to request help with a takedown from Jenny, though, the second Chuck tried to go after Blair legally over a child that’s not even born.

Milo seems to be the one who wins over Jenny for the takedown, because when the blonde looks over at Blair and her swollen stomach and sorrowful face, she cracks. “I can file charges against him, but we have to do this together, Blair. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Blair says, tears in her eyes as she holds her belly tight. “I have to be.”

Jenny nods. They speak to the lawyers and detectives in secret. Even Serena adds to the charges, an unknown attempt until the chefs at the hotel back her up as witnesses. Nate has to hold Dan back, remind him that he could lose Milo to Georgina if he does something stupid, but Nate has to admit he wants to punch Chuck bloody himself after reading the full testimonies from the women he was closest to.

He had known Chuck was a mess. He hadn’t realized how many messes he had made, and for that Nate hated himself. Surely he could have stopped some of these. He should have held his once best friend accountable so much earlier, could have thrown away some childhood crush. Nate is complicit in ways he thinks Dan should hate him for. Dan only shakes his head and mentions that he was the one who told Jenny not to press charges against the kid of a millionaire who would get off in seconds when they were all so young. Nate pretends he isn’t crying later that night and Dan does the same.

When Chuck is put into prison, Nate isn’t naive enough to breathe in relief, but he gets close.

….

"It's poetic." Blair is smiling softly at him in a way she hasn't since they were young and she thought he could save her from their parents. "You being so good with him."

Nate raises an eyebrow as he rockets Milo, but he thinks he knows what she means, and after all these years of knowing her, he's right.

"After everything your father put you through… you just shine at being one despite him." Blair offered. "Humphrey had love and a mother who couldn't hire nannies, he was born for this. But you…" She trails off after waving a hand at all of him and the way Milo is sleeping so softly on his chest.

"Thanks, Blair." He tells her, hoping his voice sounds even.

Dan has said as much to him, as had Rufus, Jenny who was back in the city to be a happy aunt, and Lily. The compliments from those three were lovely and meant the world, but they didn't carry the same weight that Blair's did.

Blair, who had been there in the lows of his father's then secret drug addiction and seen the way "The Captain" yelled at Nate in emotional tirades. She'd seen the aftermath of physical confrontations, however subtle. A bruised wrist from being dragged out of a room or a bruised arm from being hit when found smoking weed. Blair, who had all the love of an Upper East Side father and the crashing realization when that wasn't enough.

Biting his lip, because if he lets the worried sigh drag out of him he might wake up Milo, he says, "I still have 18 years and more to mess up with a kid of my own."

"You won't," she says, without the kind tone that Dan had used when saying the same thing. This was bossy, hard, certain. "You'll refuse to as much as I'll refuse to let you. We promised that, remember?"

And they had, once, on the tail end of fourteen when Serena's father had left again, Blair had been throwing up food for what would then be the first time, and Nate tired from having stayed up all night comforting his mother Anne. We'll never be them. We'll warn each other the second we have to.

But who had thought they would need a warning before their thirties had even begun?

"Yeah. I remember."

She gives him another quick smile, one to hide what was now pain and worry coming up as she stared down at her unborn child.

"You won't be your mother either, Blair," he tells her. Trying to get her to smile, he added, "Eleanor would never do something like step in Brooklyn."

"I don't know," she says, her lips curling mischievously for a second. "I'm also not living with straight men."

He laughs and so does she, and they keep the worry about Chuck wrapped away.

…

"Will you stop leaving the shower like that?" Dan snaps at Blair one of the mornings that Nate has slept over (more and more living here like a step-parent, but that was a different conversation). "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't gay and it is inappropriate."

"I thought you said you wanted me to be comfortable here, Humphrey." Blair replies with an all too silky tone. Nate rolls his eyes at them from the comfortable pillow for not the first time and gets out of bed to stop the impending fight that will likely wake Milo up, right as Blair adds, "If it makes you uncomfortable maybe that's a problem for you and Nate, not me."

"Blair, I swear to God--,"

"Dan. Chill." Nate interrupts. They both turn to see him in the doorway, Dan looking chastised and a rather naked Blair failing at looking guilty. "And Blair, come on. You know what you're doing. Either stop or be honest."

The fake sheepish expression on her face gives way to pursed lips and a dainty glare. "I don't know what you're talking about. Regardless, I'm late to classes. See you both later." And she leaves the living room to get dressed with Dan glaring fiercely at her back and Nate wanting to throw a pillow at him.

Mumbling something about checking on Milo, Dan leaves the room also and Nate wonders how on earth he can force the two to sit down and talk without one of them bolting. How on earth did Serena put up with them?

….

He manages to pin Blair down first, which quite possibly was a miracle with how desperately she had been avoiding him. They’re both at a party Dan hadn’t wanted to attend and he catches her in a side room where she had run away from Serena. Nate wasn’t quite sure what their drama was, but he didn’t care to ask.

“Blair, we need to talk.”

“Now?” she asks, pouting. She’s sitting on a chair and rubbing her ankles, looking very much pregnant. “Can’t it wait when I’m at home and out of these heels? My feet are absolutely disgusting right now.”

“Now,” he reaffirms. “Admit you’re attracted to Dan and not just trying to find someone safe like I’m sure you’ve convinced yourself is all you’re doing.”

Her entire demeanor changes immediately. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” Nate says. “Dropping towels, leaving out lingerie, your usual scheming.”

“Dan loves you,” she says softly in return, shaking her head. “I’m just a pregnant single mother in my twenties who wants to feel sexy.”

…

One night, in the chaos of their soap-opera worthy lives, Nate comes home to the loft-- which is such a weird thing to think of as his home-- and sees Dan and Blair perfectly cuddling against each other on the couch asleep. There’s something innocent about it, tissue box near as if Blair had been crying, but both of them had little time to rest between Milo and Blair’s complaints that sleeping with a pregnant belly was impossible at third trimester. Nate doesn’t want to think on the feelings rising up in him at this sight-- there’s too much to even find a place to start-- so he thinks of how they’d react to seeing themselves so vulnerable with each other. Likely Nate will have a wholesome picture that he can pretend is only blackmail and not, in fact, a picture of his entire world with only one baby missing.

Snapping the picture with flash on wakes the two up, but is completely worth it as they groggily catch sight of him and jump apart from each other.

“ Nathaniel Fitzwilliam Archibald ,” Blair angrily snaps, “Delete that now .”

Dan starts laughing and Blair turns on him. “You want that leaked to Gossip Girl?”

“Nate has never sent in a thing.” Dan replies, chuckling in between his response. “I’m just amused you went full on Waldorf mother mode.”

Blair’s glare is fantastic as she gasps, causing Nate to laugh even harder.

“I did not .”

“I’m sorry, did you or did you not just use his full name?” Dan laughs, an eyebrow raised. His challenge seems to make her furious, so very temperamental lately.

“It was an instinct brought on by the delirium of waking up next to you,” she argues huffily, and Dan rolls his eyes in a way that makes Nate crack.

“God, just kiss.”

All three of them still. Nothing can be heard except for the classical music coming from the nursery in the other room. Nate tries to berate himself when he sees Dan’s face fall into guilt and hurt. Nate tries to make up for it. “I didn’t mean it like that, I love you--,” worst time to admit it “--but you clearly love Blair too.”

“I--,” Dan falters, caught blank at the attention. “Nate, that’s not what’s going on. I love you--,”

“I know.” Nate replies, all too aware of how Blair looks ready to run.

Dan is still fumbling, turning to Blair with a lost expression that turns firm as he says, “Look, you deserve someone whose sole attention is you, Blair. I don’t fit that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re in some position that your mother--,”

“Humphrey, shut up,” Blair demands. “I get to decide what I deserve and want, no one else. You should have learned that by now. You too, Nate.”

Which he should have, of course, because now Blair is sitting up straight and in command of the entire room like she’s the royalty she almost became. Nate nods and wonders what the hell Blair was going to say now.

“I’ll admit that I have been incredibly blessed to have both of you in my life, but I am not going to come between--,”

“You won’t,” Nate announces. “If you want this, all of this, you won’t be in between anything.”

Staring straight at him, there’s a searching expression in Dan’s narrowed brown eyes and furrowed brow. Nate knows he can spot appreciation and relief, but he also knows that the writer will definitely overthink this for the next month or so. Still, when Blair hesitantly looks to Dan, the brunette nods.

Nate is glad the classical music covers the sounds the happy three of them make that night.

…..

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - The Fear of the Unknown

June 10, 1944

Saying goodbye to Frances was hard after they spent the day of the 6th together grieving and writing home, being each other’s only comfort in the face of true despair. They held each other one last time before Charles had to return to his squadron, wrapped up tightly in each other’s familiar embrace and shared a few tears and extra squeezes before letting go. Frances left her second little brother with a kiss to his cheek – having to rise onto her tiptoes slightly to do so – and then took his face in her hands and made him swear through his tear-filled eyes to be careful out there.

Charlie could only whimper out a breathy, “I promise” to her serious expression. Frances tucked Richard’s gold ring into Charlie’s hand, closed his fingers around it without a word, and they parted ways.

Charlie was returned to the RAF after the initial landings at Normandy and he was soon assigned to a singleton Spitfire on the force. Flying alone was nothing less than brutal and he constantly missed his co-pilot, his best friend, and his brother. But he wore the gold ring on his right pinky, a piece of jewelry he never thought much of when it came to his brother who received it for his 18th birthday and rarely took it off, but the engraving of RB on the top of the band meant more to Charlie than he even knew possible.

The fight for Europe was far from over and Allies fought long and hard to push back the Nazi armies back into Germany. Charlie tried to focus on his work but it was difficult when his heart was still in that empty field on the coast of France. It seemed as if the rest of his squadron was perfectly fine, going about their day and fighting through in air battles like it was no big deal, but Charlie’s chest had felt so tight for days and no one seemed to care. Just another pilot lost in battle.

His reactions were slower and his attention wasn’t as strong, and his officers’ attempts to comfort him and convince him to keep his mind on his work didn’t seem to help. One flight in particular, it was cloudy and bad weather and the sky filled with gunfire made Charlie’s head more muddled than it already felt. He sat alone in his cockpit and flew his jet and tried to do his best to keep himself in the air. Between the weather and his mess of emotions swirling around in his mind, it was truly not much of a surprise that a few shots to his wing and he was spiraling towards the ground, pulling his parachute just barely in time.

June 13, 1944

Daniel hadn’t moved from his bed in five days. He struggled to eat the meals that Elizabeth brought him and he only got up to use the washroom in the middle of the night when the house was sleeping. Daniel wanted nothing to do with anyone at that moment and he wallowed in his sorrow for days on end from the moment Elizabeth got him into bed after fainting from the intensity of his panic attack. He simply laid in bed with the blackout curtains pulled and didn’t move.

Elizabeth had been in contact with Christine a lot and the women spoke over the phone in hushed tones, Elizabeth comforting her best friend the best she could through her grief of losing her son, and both of them sharing details of their husbands’ own sorrows. Corbyn was more determined to keep life as it was always before, Christine had said, as he continued getting up and getting dressed and going about his days but he never touched the newspaper or the radio and the emptiness that filled his light eyes was near chilling to his wife. They were just trying to get past day by day.

Evelyn returned downstairs that morning with a cold, still mostly filled dinner plate in hand and set it on the kitchen counter beside her mother. The women shared sad, knowing expressions and Elizabeth scraped the cold food into the garbage to wash the plate. The daughter went to retrieve the mail from the porch while her mother cleaned up the dishes from Daniel’s leftover dinner and their own breakfast and Evelyn froze on the porch as the letter on the top was addressed to them from the Royal Air Force.

It wasn’t in Charlie’s handwriting and Evelyn felt sick the second she realized what it could be. She rushed back inside without a word and thrust the letter at her mother. Elizabeth’s face fell completely at her first glance at the letter and the women huddled close right there in the kitchen as she ripped it open.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Seavey,

This letter is to regretfully inform you that your son, Charles Seavey, RAF Squadron 19, has been reported missing in action since 10 June 1944 over Germany.

I know that added distress is caused by failure to receive more information or details. Therefore, I wish to assure you that at any time additional information is received it will be transmitted to you without delay. The terms of ‘missing in action’ is used only to indicate that the whereabouts or status of an dividual is not immediately known. It is not intended to convey the impression that the case is closed. Every effort is to be continuously exerted to clear up the status of our personnel. Experience shows that many persons who have been reported missing in actions are subsequently reported as prisoners of war, but this information is furnished by countries with which are at war and thus the War Department and the Royal Air Force is helpless to expedite such reports. Congress has allowed continuation of force of pay and allowance to dependants of personnel being carried in a missing status.

Permit me to extend to you my heartfelt sympathy during this period of uncertainty.

Signed by the marshal of the RAF.

The master bedroom was dark and Elizabeth stood in the doorway with the letter in her hands and her eyes focused on the shape of her husband’s body under the blankets facing away from her.

“Daniel.” she called shakily. There was no answer. Elizabeth took a shaky inhale in preparation for what reaction he might have to the news, “Daniel, darling.”

He didn’t move.

Elizabeth shuffled over to the bed and walked around it to sit at his side where he was facing. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping and she pet her hand through his tangled and almost shaggy brown hair.

“Darling, we need to have a little talk.” Elizabeth reached forward to switch on the bedside lamp and Daniel whimpered as the warm light burned into his tired eyes. He tucked his face farther under the blankets he had clutched in his hands.

Elizabeth glanced back down at the letter that was open in her hands, the paper quivering slightly as her hands trembled with anxieties, and she took another deep inhale. She rubbed her opposite hand over Daniel’s back and gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

“Can you listen to me, Dani?”

He barely gave her a half nod.

“I need to know that you’re going to be strong when I talk to you but that it’s okay to cry if you need to. You can’t shut down on us anymore, alright? We need you, darling.”

Daniel blinked his eyes open in confusion and he looked up at her under furrowed brows, waiting for her to continue as he shifted onto his back a little. Elizabeth took his hand in hers.

“We got a letter from the Royal Air Force this morning.” Elizabeth said gently.

Daniel’s entire body tensed.

“Charlie’s been reported missing. They don’t know where he is at the moment.” Elizabeth explained.

Daniel’s chest shuttered as he struggled to breathe.

Elizabeth patted his chest gently, “It’s okay. It doesn’t mean he’s gone. He’s just a little lost right now.”

She could see his blue eyes filling with fresh tears as he stared up at her. How much he looked like their little boy in that moment and she dropped her head to stare at her lap to keep herself from crying too.

“Lizzie.” Daniel whimpered.

“Yeah, darling?” Elizabeth sniffled, her voice trembling.

Daniel let out a small sob but he inhaled quickly to try and say what he needed to say before the tears took over, his bottom lip quivering as he breathed out a gentle, “Can you hold me?”

Elizabeth simply burst into tears, nodding as she shifted to lay next to him and he moved the sheets to welcome her under. The two parents cried together, arms wrapped tightly around each other as they laid frightened of the unknown. It had been a while since Daniel properly held her and Elizabeth wept into his chest with the feeling of relief it brought her, her head tucked under his chin and his strong arms engulfing her body under the warm sheets of their shared bed. But she held him right back, hands clinging onto the back of his shirt and kept him right up close against her with her legs tangled up in his.

The letter laid haphazardly on the other pillow, its contents staring at the ceiling right next to them as Daniel and Elizabeth cried themselves to sleep stemmed from exhaustion in each other’s arms.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx​ @hopinglimelight​ @hiya-its-amber​ @jonahlovescoffee​ @chanelwonders​

[bedlamsbard]

Part 6 of the other side AU concept!  This should be seven parts total, but part 7 is likely to be delayed again due to a deadline and some health problems.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

About 5.9K below the break.

***

“I’ve changed my mind,” Hera said, her voice so small that she could hardly hear herself. “I don’t want to do this.  We should fly off and be pirates instead.”

Her hands were shaking so badly on the control yoke that the Ghost was in danger of beginning to wobble.  After a moment’s hesitation, she glanced at Kanan to make sure that he had his hands on the co-pilot’s controls, then took her hands off the yoke and fisted them in her lap.  She knew Kanan.  He would be able to fly straight even with the galaxy crumbling around him, which at the moment Hera felt it was.  She could usually fly no matter what; apparently this was the exception to that rule.

The steadily growing shapes that hung in space before them weren’t the Free Ryloth fleet.  It was the Syndulla family yacht, the Syndulla’s Gamble, and her aunt Sinthya’s ship the Sandfly, the latter standing a little off the from the Gamble so as to have a better firing solution on the approaching Ghost. She wondered if that had been her father’s idea or her aunt (actually her mother’s cousin) Sinthya’s.

The comm unit on the dashboard crackled expectantly.  Hera stared at it, half-expecting it to spit at her.

“I don’t think they’ll want to listen to me,” Kanan said apologetically.  He spoke Twi’leki fluently, but had the strongest Coruscant accent in it that Hera had ever heard.

Hera supposed that she could get up and go and fetch the other Hera out of her cabin, but that wasn’t exactly a solution.  Wincing, she reached for the comm. “This is Ghost.”

She didn’t recognize the voice that responded, though she suspected it was a cousin of some sort.  “This is Syndulla’s Gamble, Ghost.  We’re prepared for you to dock at our port airlock.  Is that acceptable for your vessel?”

Hera swallowed. “Yes, that’s acceptable.  We’ll dock shortly.”

“Acknowledged.”

She ran through a mental registry of which relative that could possibly have been and came up short, mostly through her own faulty memory of her extended family.  There were a lot of people who had been lost at the colony, too, and while she was vaguely aware that a few had made it back to the fleet she had absolutely no idea who they were.  Besides her mother, of course.  Agent Beneke had made sure that she had known that, even though he had kept everything else about Free Ryloth from her.

The Syndulla’s Gamble was twice again the size of the Ghost, a healthily-sized yacht that Hera’s great-grandfather had purchased new from a Corellian shipmaker.  It grew steadily in the Ghost’s viewport as they approached; she stared at its half-familiar lines, her gaze marking out the places on the hull where armor plating had been put on or where carbon scoring marked laserfire sustained sometime in the recent past, not to mention the additional quadlasers that hadn’t been there seven years ago, the last time she had seen the Gamble.  The changes gave her an odd feeling that she couldn’t quite identify.  The ship was still elegant despite the extra weaponry, but…different.

“Do you want to take her in?” Kanan asked her quietly.  “I can if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll do it,” Hera said shakily.  She put her hands on the control yoke again, maneuvering the Ghost until the two ships’ airlocks matched.  They were both Corellian, if not from the same manufacturer, so their airlocks were compatible; Hera didn’t have to worry about running a pressure tunnel between the two ships.  She kept her gaze on the control panel until it signaled that the airlocks were locked together and that pressure and atmosphere between the two ships was stable.

“Better stay up here in case – just in case,” she told Chopper.  She tried to get up without taking her safety straps off and was immediately jerked back down; Kanan quirked a worried eyebrow at her and Hera grimaced back, undoing the buckle.  “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you all right?”

“What convinced you?” Hera grumbled.  She checked the set of her blaster in its holster just for the sake of having something to do with her hands, even though the chances of having to use it were low. Possible, depending on how this ended up going, but low.

Kanan put a hand on her wrist to stop her before they left the cockpit.  Hera paused, looking up at him, and he dropped his head to kiss her briefly.  “It will be all right,” he told her gently.

She put her arms around him and leaned her forehead against his shoulder, suddenly so tired it was hard to think. “I don’t want to do this,” she whispered to him. “I want my mother, but I don’t want to do this.”

And she wanted the other Hera to see her mother too,  even if she didn’t know how to explain that to Kanan, or have any idea how she was going to explain it to Alecto Syndulla, for that matter.  If her mother even wanted her.  Despite the conversation she had had via comm call, she still couldn’t bring herself to believe it, not after six years.

“I know,” Kanan said. “But we’re here.”

Hera nodded glumly. She let herself stay where she was for a few more moments, then pulled away from Kanan and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes.  She wasn’t crying, but she could feel the beginnings of tears threatening to start.

Kanan pressed a kiss to her forehead.  They left the cockpit together, heading towards the airlock and leaving Chopper to grumble behind them; he didn’t like being left behind.  Hera braced herself as they approached the hatch; she was breathing shallowly, and she was holding onto Kanan’s hand so firmly it had to hurt him. He didn’t complain, just glanced at her to make sure she was all right.

Hera gave him a shaky smile before reaching for the hatch control.  She had to fight the urge to shut her eyes as it slid open.

Her parents were on the other side.

Hera had had only the vaguest idea of what she was going to say when she saw them, but all of it went out of her head.  She started to cry in near-silent gasping sobs.

Her mother was there before Kanan could do more than shift in reaction.  She took Hera in her arms and pulled her close, murmuring, “It’s all right, baby, it’s all right, I’m here, you’re here, it’s all right.  We’ll be all right now.”

*

“Hera.  Hera, baby, wake up.”

Hera woke with a start, wincing at the crook in her neck even before she had fully regained consciousness.  She had fallen asleep at the table in her temporary cabin, reading through ISB files on a borrowed datapad.  It was hard to tell how many of them would still be relevant to her present day and a few of them referred to programs that she was almost certain didn’t exist in her own time, but no information was ever wasted.

“I’m awake,” she said, almost slurring the words.  She spoke in Twi’leki, responding in the same language she had been spoken to in.  “I’m –”  She finally succeeded in raising her head from her folded arms and saw the woman leaning over her.  “Mama?”

Alecto Syndulla smiled at her.

Hera scrambled to her feet and flung her arms around her mother’s neck. “Mama!”

Alecto took a staggered step back, but put her arms around Hera and hugged her back, then cupped her hands around Hera’s face and said, “Look at you!”

Hera beamed at her, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.  Her brain caught up with the rest of her belatedly and she said, “You – you know I’m not her –”

“I know,” Alecto said calmly.  “She explained.  But I know my daughter.”

Hera hugged her again, overcome.  “Mama, I – Mama –”

Kanan made a faintly interrogative inquiry from the bunk, sounding like he was still mostly asleep. Hera glanced up at him, feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm her because he was here, he was here, and her mother was here, and she hadn’t thought she would have either ever again.

“Go back to sleep, love,” she told him. “It’s all right.  I’ll introduce you later.”

Alecto drew her out of the cabin into the hallway, hugged her again, then held her at arm’s length as she looked Hera up and down.  Hera held still, beaming at her, then fumbled her holoprojector out of her pocket.

“Mama – Mama, can I show you – this is my son, this is Jacen –”

Alecto wore the same poleaxed expression that Bail Organa had when he had seen Leia and her son, Hera was bemused to note.  She could practically see the words but why does he have hair? floating behind her mother’s eyes, before Alecto flicked a quick glance at the cabin door and the sleeping human inside, and her expression softened.  She put an arm around Hera’s shoulders and smiled.

“He looks like a good boy,” she said. “How old is he?”

“He’s five.  He’ll be six in a few months.  He’s on Ryloth with Daddy –”  She stopped abruptly, her exhausted brain catching up with what she knew about the differences between her own universe and this one.  “Daddy – Father – he didn’t leave Ryloth.”

For a moment her mother didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on the hologram.  Hera let herself just look at her mother – a tall, handsome Twi’lek woman about her own height, her green skin a few shades darker than Hera’s own. There was a scar tracing its way from the edge of her cap to her jaw that Hera’s mother hadn’t had, and the laugh lines at the corners of her eyes were deeper than they had been.

“Mama,” she said, small-voiced. “You –”  No, not her. Hera squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again and forced herself to say, “My mother died when I was thirteen, in the riots in Lessu.  Father said an Imperial sniper shot her, when Moff Mors sent in stormtroopers to deal with the protests.  I remember when Daddy and Uncle Themarsa brought her back to the townhouse, after – after.”

Alecto looked at her, her gaze sad, then reached up to pull down the shoulder of her shirt, revealing the puckered scar tissue from an old blaster wound.

Hera had helped her aunt Clotho wash her mother’s body afterwards, preparing her to lie in state as befit a curiate patrician, though they had never been able to hold the usual public ceremony since the Empire had locked down Lessu.  The laser blast that had killed her mother had been only a few inches down and to the left of Alecto’s scar.

“Father sent me back to the villa with the cousins,” Hera went on.  “He got very distant after that – he wasn’t at the villa often.  That’s when he was forming Free Ryloth – I found that out later, when I was sixteen.  We had a huge fight about it.”

Her mother looked up at her, her eyes hurt. “After I was hurt, Cham sent everyone away to the colony,” she said. “The Empire wiped it out a year later.”

Hera stared at her. “Is that it?” she said. “Is that – is that the difference?  You – my mother – dying?  Is that all it is?  And – and this happened, just because – is that it?”

Alecto reached out and pulled her into an embrace. “Our lives are our own, baby,” she said gently. “We can’t make sense of the past any more than we can change it.”

But we can, Hera thought; Kanan was still asleep in the other room.  Though she supposed that that wasn’t quite changing the past, just taking something out of it; her own life wouldn’t be changed at all when she returned to her timeline.  Unless they had all miscalculated, and reaching back to take Kanan out of that moment had had a ripple effect forwards, one that she hadn’t realized yet because she wasn’t there –

She shuddered.

Her mother mistook it and hugged her again. “It’s all right, baby,” she said.  She cupped a hand around Hera’s face and smiled at her. “I’m glad I got to meet you.  Tell me about yourself – about your life, and your boy.  How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-three,” Hera said.  She faltered for a moment, because she wasn’t more than ten years younger than her mother had been when she had died, but went on, “I’m thirty-three, and I’m a general in the Rebel Alliance – it might be the New Republic Navy now, if the council has already ratified the constitution.”

She smiled at her mother’s soft exclamation, and gave a brief overview of her life since the age of thirteen.  She glossed over Kanan’s death, since that was a little more explanation than she wanted to give at the moment, though when she mentioned him her mother said tentatively, “He’s your son’s father?”

“Yes,” Hera said.

“He seems like a nice young man,” her mother said, which puzzled Hera for a moment until she realized that Alecto probably meant the other Kanan.

“Well, I think so,” Hera said.

Her mother put an arm around her shoulders and said, “Let’s go see your father.”

“He’s not –”  Her mother was dead in her own timeline, but Cham Syndulla was very much alive, and Hera had talked to him as recently as three days ago.  It was all too easy for Hera to take this Alecto Syndulla as her own mother; her mother had died when she was thirteen and Alecto hadn’t seen her daughter since Hera – the other Hera – was fourteen.  Hera knew her father.

She took a breath, uncomfortable under her mother’s – under Alecto’s – curious expression, and said, “He isn’t my father, not really.”

A tiny line knit between Alecto’s brows, but all she said was, “Let’s go see him.”

Hera followed her down the corridor into the common room, where she found the other Hera and Kanan along with Cham Syndulla and, to Hera’s surprise, her aunt Clotho and cousin Doriah.  All looked a little startled to see her, their gazes flicking back and forth between her and the younger Hera.  The other woman looked desperately uncomfortable, and a little relieved to see Hera.

Cham looked exactly the same as her father had when Hera had spoken to him; past a certain point male Twi’leks didn’t show their age much, and Hera would have had to put both men side by side to make out the differences.  He got up and came over to her as Hera stared at him, saying, “Daughter –”

Hera opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally managed to say, “Hello, Father.”

For a moment, Cham hesitated, then he put his hands on her shoulders. “Hera,” he said.

She looked past him just in time to see the brief flash of hurt cross the other Hera’s face.

“I’m Hera,” she said quickly. “But I’m a different Hera, from somewhere – somewhen else.  I’m thirty-three years old, I’m a general in the Rebel Alliance, and I have a five-year-old son.”

Cham’s jaw dropped. His gaze went to Kanan, sitting beside the other Hera, and Hera had to stifle sudden laughter.

“Yes,” she said, “but mine, I mean, the Kanan from my universe.”

Cham’s expression did something complicated that might have made more sense if Hera could see his lekku, which she couldn’t from this angle; Doriah’s face went outraged but his mother laid a hand on his arm before he could say anything.

“Come and sit down,” Cham said finally.

Hera looked at the expression on the other Hera’s face and hesitated. “I should stay with Kanan –” she said.

The girl shook her head slightly, her expression a little desperate.  Hera bit her lip, then sat down at her mother’s urging.  She gave them all another brief precis of her life to date, taking out her holoprojector again to show Cham, Aunt Clotho, and Doriah Jacen.  Doriah just looked upset, which puzzled Hera, but she didn’t want to ask why in front of anyone else.

Seeing Doriah was something of a shock.  She and her cousin had quarreled before she had left Ryloth fifteen years ago; he had been killed while she had been offworld, so they had never gotten a chance to reconcile.  They had been close as children – Hera was only six months older – but had spent the latter part of their teens fighting until Hera had finally left Ryloth. Never being able to make up with him was one of the great regrets of Hera’s life.

She happened to be looking at Kanan at the exact moment when he grimaced suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut as his hands went white-knuckled on his knees.  The other Hera shot him an anxious look as he got to his feet, muttering an excuse before he went out into the galley.  Hera heard the hatch beyond that slide open and then closed again as he went into the back of the ship.

*

Kanan staggered into the engine room, which was about as far as he could get from the rest of the ship without flushing himself out the airlock, and dropped to the floor beside the hyperdrive.  He pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead, wincing, and tried to concentrate on the ache that caused instead of anything else.

No, he mouthed.  No, no, no –

The airlock was sounding better and better with every passing moment.

Distantly, as if from a long ways away, he heard the engine room hatch slide open.  Kanan winced, trying to get himself together enough to tell whoever it was – probably Hera, maybe Chopper – to go away, but couldn’t get the words to come.

Warm hands touched his wrists.  Kanan flinched, but didn’t pull away; the Hunter had trained that out of him early on.

“It’s me,” the other Kanan said, the words accompanied by a light touch of the Force that seared Kanan’s abused mind like acid.  This time he did flinch away, and felt his counterpart pull back – in the Force, at least; he didn’t release his light grip on Kanan’s wrists.

Kanan opened his mouth to tell him that he should probably go away and couldn’t remember how to speak.

“Hey,” the other man said, his voice very gentle. “Hey, come on, look at me.”

He couldn’t do that. Kanan had to tell him that he couldn’t do that, because he knew that if he opened his eyes, it wouldn’t just be him looking out.

“Listen to me,” the other Kanan said, “I will not let him touch you.  You have my word as a Jedi Knight.  I just need you to look at me.”

He knew.

He knew, and the rush of shame that went through Kanan made him dizzy.  He could feel the pressure against his mind increase; it was so overwhelming that he almost lost his sense of awareness of the blazing presence beside him.

“I will not let him hurt you or anyone else on this ship,” the other Kanan said forcefully.  “I can stop you if I have to.  You can tell that for yourself if you reach out.”

He shook his head, willing the other man to understand.  If he opened himself up enough to do that, it would give the Hunter space to slip in, and it wouldn’t be him the other Kanan had to deal with it, it would be the Hunter. He couldn’t let the Hunter know.

“Kid, listen to me,” the other Kanan said. “I can help you.  Just listen to me.  Listen to the sound of my voice.  Do you hear me?”

After a long moment, Kanan managed to nod, just slightly.  He wasn’t certain that the other Kanan could actually see the gesture, but he said, “Good.  I’m going to reach out again.  If it hurts you, I’ll stop.  Do you understand?”

He jerked his chin in something that might have been construed as a nod.  He still flinched when he felt the gentle touch of the other man’s mind against his, but didn’t kick him out this time.  The Hunter’s awareness of the intruder flared, then retreated in confusion.

“It’s all right,” the other Kanan murmured, the words seemingly to be half spoken and half in his mind. “He can’t tell us apart.”

Kanan whimpered softly in the back of his throat, like the hound he had been named for.  The words came slowly – still to his mind, not to his lips.  You’re a Jedi.  I’m not.  He’ll know –

“Not from this distance, and not without knowing that I’m here at all,” the other Kanan said. “Breathe with me.”

Long months of obedience drilled into him, sometimes bloodily, meant Kanan fell easily into the pattern.  It was easier with the other Kanan than it had been with the Hunter, as easy as it had been with Depa Billaba.  With the Hunter it hadn’t been difficult – it had been easier than Kanan had liked – but his emotions had gotten into the way, fear and pain making him shy away until the Hunter had trained that out of him.

It felt like a long time before the Hunter’s presence receded from his mind.  It wasn’t gone entirely – it never would but, not until the Hunter was dead and maybe not even dead; sometimes Kanan thought he could still feel Depa Billaba watching him – but the unrelenting pressure had faded enough that Kanan could think again.  He took his hands away from his face, wincing when he realized he had been pressing them against his forehead so hard that his wrists ached, and saw the other Kanan crouched in front of him.  The older man’s face was serious, his brows narrowed in concern.  He was barefoot, his hair tousled as if he had just gotten out of bed.

Kanan looked at him and then away.  He slumped back against the hyperdrive, all the strength gone out of him, because he knew.

“It isn’t your fault,” the other man said.  His voice was a little lighter than Kanan had expected, familiar but not exactly identical to his own.  Age, maybe, or what the Crucible had done to him.

Kanan put a hand over his face.  It took him a moment to find the words, searching tiredly for them in what remained of his mind. “You didn’t.”

They were still attuned to each other, so he felt the faint buzz of the other man’s brief startlement. “It never came up,” he said.

“She said –”  Kanan hesitated over the words again, then just let them spill out, knowing that the Jedi would be able to take any stumbling block from his mind. “She said he had you.”

He felt rather than saw the other Kanan’s sudden understanding, his face still turned away. “He didn’t have me for that long,” he said, his voice gentle. “We never got that far.  Hera and the rest of my team broke me out first.”

Lucky, Kanan thought without saying as much, though he felt the other Kanan flinch slightly as he sensed it.  He still woke up screaming two nights out of every five, and only slept through one of the other three, even with Hera in bed beside him. He had mostly stopped waking her up on the nights that didn’t involve screaming.

“She said you killed him,” he said instead.

“I defeated him,” the other Kanan said carefully. “He killed himself.”

Kanan rubbed his hands over his face, trying to get his head around that and failing.  What he wanted to say was why did he hurt me and not you?, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask that question.  Instead he just said wearily, “How did you know?”

His counterpart hesitated. Kanan felt suddenly sick, but couldn’t make himself look away from the other man as he said, “I felt him calling you. It woke me up.”

Kanan folded his hands over the back of his skull and bent his head down over his knees, breathing hard.

The other Kanan leaned forward and put a hand on his knee.  He said softly, “Yes, I can feel that bond – there’s a resonance between us, do you feel it?  An echo.”

Kanan wet his lips. He didn’t bother looking up, but he was too well-trained to avoid a response to a direct question.  Touching the Force made him flinch a little – he was over-sensitive to it at the moment, between what he had done to bring the other Kanan here and fighting the Hunter’s attempt to drag him back to Mustafar – but he didn’t let himself stop this time.  He felt the echo between himself and the other man without having to search for it, the Force rippling between them.

“Yes,” he said; he could sense the tie between himself and the Hunter reflecting back on the other Kanan. He had a tie of his own too, similar but not identical to Kanan’s, and much weaker.  He hadn’t been the Hunter’s Hound, but there had been something there, the seed of something more that had never come to fruition.

“Did he tell you?” he had to ask.

“Tell me what?”

“When I was – when we were, I guess, you and I both – at the Temple – you know he was a Guard?”

“Yes,” the other man said. “I know he was a Temple Guard, back when he was a Jedi Knight.”

“He wanted – me,” Kanan said jerkily, “– as a padawan, I mean, back when – but if he left the Guard, he would be deployed, and he didn’t want that, and he didn’t want to take a padawan into the war.  Especially because I was so young.  So he thought no one else would either.  He didn’t tell anyone, though, so when Master Billaba – he thought she had stolen his padawan.”  He put his forehead down against his knees, breathing hard.

The Hunter had never told him this directly.  He had told another Inquisitor, one of the other former Jedi, on one of the few occasions when Kanan had been injured badly enough fighting with other trainees to end up in the Crucible’s medbay.  Both of them had thought he was asleep.

“He thought the Force had given me back to him,” Kanan said, the words a little muffled. “And maybe he was right, because he had me.”

He felt the other Kanan’s flinch and couldn’t tell if his murmured words were out loud or only in his mind. That explains the connection I felt…

The next thing he said was definitely out loud. “The Force is possibility, not ultimate truth.  Just because something could have happened doesn’t mean it’s fated to.  You and I are proof of that.”

Kanan looked up at him. The other man’s face was calm, without the slightly fanatic cast to it that he remembered from a few Knights back at the Temple.  Only the scar that cut across his eyes was unfamiliar; except for the difference in scars, Kanan could have been looking into a mirror.

He looked down again. “But he found you anyway.”

“It’s a smaller galaxy than you’d think,” the other man said gently.

Kanan lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as he got himself back under control, a little comforted by the presence of the other Jedi here – the Force could always tell, and there was something solidly reassuring about him that Kanan hadn’t thought he would ever feel again.

“Thanks,” he made himself say eventually. “I just – thanks.”

The other man nodded matter-of-factly. “What did he want?”

Kanan bit his lip. “He likes to pull my leash,” he said eventually, thinking. “I think it was just that – I don’t think he’s realized we’re gone yet. I mean, he might now,” he had to add.  He rubbed both hands back over his short-cropped hair, one thumb brushing his notched ear – the Hunter had taken a slice out of it when he had shaved Kanan’s head, his first day at the Crucible.

He glanced up at the other man and said haltingly, “He saw me a week ago – I was back at Mustafar to check in.  He was never happy about me going back to Hera, but it was out of his hands.”

The other man was quiet, waiting with patient calm like a master waiting for his padawan to figure out a problem.  Exactly like, in fact, so much so that Kanan shivered and looked at him from under his lashes, distracted from his own misery.  He remembered abruptly what Hera had said when she had first arrived.

“You have an apprentice,” he said. “A padawan.”

The other Kanan raised his head.  For a moment grief flashed across both his face and the Force, fresh enough to make Kanan wince.  He knew without having to ask that Hera had brought news that the other man hadn’t wanted to hear, bad news.

All he said was, “Yes. His name is Ezra.”

Kanan couldn’t imagine trusting himself enough to train an apprentice.  He wasn’t aware of saying as much out loud, but the other Kanan said quietly, “Yeah, I felt that way too for a long time.  But the Force wants what it wants, and it will always have its way.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kanan said quietly.

The other man raised his head and considered him, the Force heavy behind those disconcerting white eyes.

I hope I don’t – Kanan thought, then choked it back.  You never did know, and wondering on it was as good as asking the Force for it.

“I think you’d do all right,” the other man said.  He smiled at Kanan. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

*

Hera sat with her family – with the other Hera Syndulla’s family – which was the most disconcerting thing she had ever done, and she included getting Kanan back in that.  She knew her family, and knew that her mother had been dead twenty years and her cousin eleven.  She had spoken to her father and her aunt recently enough that she was aware of a kind of double-vision, remembering Clotho and Cham as she had last seen them only a few days before.  It was obvious that they were all responding a little better to her than to the other Hera, probably because she was what they had always hoped for and the other woman was so visibly uncomfortable.

Hera finally got up. “I should get some rest,” she said, making her goodbyes to the clearly reluctant Alecto and to Cham, who looked just as disconcerted as she felt.

She hadn’t gone more than three paces down the corridor before the door slid open and shut again behind her.  Hera turned to see the other Hera there, the girl’s face pale.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said.

“Hera, they’re your family.  Not mine.  Mine are back waiting for me on Ryloth.”  Or dead, but she didn’t want to say those words out loud.  Instead, she just said, “You should be with your family.  They love you.”

The girl’s gaze flashed sideways, so quickly that Hera might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it.  She was quiet for what felt like a long time before she said, “I didn’t want to contact them.  Not yet. I mean, I – I wanted my mother, and when you said – I wanted my mother.  But I didn’t want to come here.  I don’t…they want someone I’m not, not anymore.”  She took a shaky breath.

“They’re your family,” Hera said again.  The words came out more hesitantly than she had intended; she knew all about not wanting to face her own family, but her situation had been completely different than the other woman’s.

The other Hera lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I know that.  I do.  But I just…I haven’t told you everything, you know?”

Hera nodded cautiously.

“You said your mother was dead,” the girl said slowly. “I…I wanted you to see her.”  She gave Hera a slightly frantic look.  “I thought…as long as you were here, you deserved that.”

“Oh,” Hera said softly. “I – thank you.  I didn’t realize that.”  She put her hands on the other woman’s shoulders.  They were the same height, though Hera actually had a slightly higher heel on her boots than the other woman.  “I know it’s hard,” she said, “but you should go be with your family. I don’t –”  She hesitated, trying to think of a good way to say what she meant. “I don’t want them to get so focused on me that they forget about you.”

The girl glanced down, which Hera took to mean she had noticed that too. “They’re not going to stay much longer,” she said eventually. “I mean – they’ll probably be here for another rotation or so, but we aren’t going to keep the ships linked all the time. And I’m not going back to the fleet with them, not…not yet.  Maybe later, but not yet.  I just – and Kanan can’t.”

When Hera frowned, she clarified, “He’s afraid that the Inquisition will come after him, and he doesn’t want civilians in the crossfire.  And – I’ve seen what the Inquisition does.  I don’t want them near my family either.”

Hera nodded slowly. “I understand.”  She hugged the other woman quickly. “Go be with them.  I do want to rest.”

The girl gave her a shaky smile. “All right.”

Hera watched her go back into the common room, then rubbed a hand over her face and went back into her borrowed cabin – she almost went into her own cabin first, then had to backtrack to the other door.  She had expected to find Kanan still asleep in the bunk and froze when she realized he wasn’t there.

She stood there, staring at the empty bunk and feeling her heart beat rapidly in panic.  He was here, she thought frantically.  He was really here, I didn’t imagine him, I couldn’t have imagined him –

She didn’t know how long she stood there, starting to hyperventilate and too terrified to move, when the door slid open behind her.  Hera spun to find Kanan standing there.  He was in shirtsleeves and bare feet, his expression exhausted.

“Hey.”

She flung herself into his arms without pausing to make sure he was ready for her.  He took one staggered step backwards, then put his arms around her.  “I’m all right,” he told her softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Hera held him close, breathing hard. “I wasn’t scared,” she started to say, then shook her head. “Fine, I was.  Where were you?”

He turned his head a little, making sure that the door had closed behind him, and then said, “The Grand Inquisitor took a swipe at the kid, and I caught the edge of it.”

Hera looked up at him in alarm. “Are you all right?  Is he?”

“I’m all right.  He –”  Kanan hesitated, then went on, “He will be, I think, but I wasn’t expecting that. It woke me up.”  His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed a hand over his face. “That was tiring.”

“Well, you can go back to sleep,” Hera offered.

“I’m still a little wired,” he said, then winked solemnly at her. “Want to make out until I fall over again?”

Hera flushed and punched him gently in the chest, then leaned up and pressed her lips to his. “Yes,” she said against his mouth, putting her arms around his neck. “I’d like that.”

[coplins]

(1/3) Thanks for responding. I totally see the queerbaiting/kill your gays criticism - it's clear from Misha's comments after the fact that he really thought he was doing something supportive and didn't get how it was the opposite. I wasn't upset with ignoring Eileen because that whole plot was so badly written, and I didn't mind blurry wife because that was a story they'd never have time to tell, so leaving it to be your choice of wife/co-parent (Jared's words) worked for me.

(2/3) I don't see Dean's lack of reciprocation as a problem because Jensen and the showrunners have continuously said that is not their intent in writing/acting that character, so anything folks read into it is subtext. Again, Misha thought it would be better rep than it was. It was a bad call. John isn't canonically a child abuser, just a lousy parent. Both Dean and Sam have done so many crappy things as well that honestly, they shouldn't be there by that metric either. 3/4) But I don't think the finale (awkwardly written as it was) cancels out their character development at all. They are different people - back at the starting point, but not the men they were when they started. Dean is emotionally open; he's dropped acting tough and can talk about his emotions. He can be alone and be okay. Sam is no longer afraid of his blood or turning into John; he can be a good dad. I wish we'd seen Jack and Cas, or heard them at least wish them well, even just a prayer. (4/4) But even though that was crappy to leave out, I don't think it negates the show or the characters. 19 added Cas and Jack's names to the table, and I can be happy with that as the final episode. I was prepared to pretend it didn't exist before it even aired. I AM really glad you're anti-harassment. The shit that even folks like Kripke have been getting on their pages has made me so sad. Dabb posted something about baboons and folks even thought it was about them, not his new show! (Also, sorry to dump like a huge text thing in your inbox. It's totally fine that we disagree on things. I've just seen so many crazy things like people blaming Jared and saying the episode was an ad for Walker and to boycott Walker - a ton of Jared hate in general, really. Or saying Jensen "Destiel Isn't Real" Ackles is secretly a heller who's been viciously silenced by the powers that be for years. And now Misha's getting dogpiled for trying to interact and understand how he fucked up.)

It's fine, Nonnie. :)

Okay, so, just to make one thing clear. If you enjoyed the finale, then I think it's great. For everyone who didn't get their joy sucked out of them, that's awesome! I got to see the Wincest side of my Tumblr dash go apeshit from happiness and I'm happy for them. I've since had to unfollow some of those blogs when they turned bitter and hateful towards those of us who didn't like the ending. I curate my Tumblr (internet in general) experience to avoid seeing hate thrown at ships, actors, characters, fans, or people in general. I unfollow people if they post too much toxic stuff no matter if they're Destiel shippers, angel fans, or whatever part of fandom they're in.

I try not to reblog too much angry/bitter crap either. There are a lot of posts on my dash that I wholeheartedly agree with but don't belong on my blog. And I've written my share of wank and rants over the years but seldom hit post because I don't want to ruin someone else's positivity. When I do hit post I tag it "spn wank" so it can be avoided. If I need to angry-rant I do so in chat. Sometimes I mess up. There are undoubtedly some less than nice posts in the Buckleming wank category on my blog.

Generally speaking, my M.O. is disengaging and/or vote with my wallet. I will never condone cyberbullying. No matter how famous the person, or how nasty they are, harassment isn't okay. Actions have consequences and I try to think of what they are before I act. If I vent hurtful opinions about an actor, it'll be kept in chat, with someone who understands that particular frustration. (Not related to the current situation.)

When it comes to canon, it doesn't matter what showrunners or actors tell us about how it's meant to be interpreted or how they meant to act it. Canon is what's shown on screen, period. As curious as I am about what the actors have to say about things, it isn't important regarding canon at all. I'll stan my boys no matter what their characters get up to on-screen. <3

Yeah, I've seen the theories and the dogpiling. Luckily, I've avoided seeing the Jared hate but I knew it would be there because the internet is a cesspool of people lashing out aimlessly or misdirecting their anger. Even IF they wrote the finale in a way that they thought would put a spotlight on Jared's upcoming series, HE was nowhere near a position of power to make that decision and should be left out of it. I just figured, if it was true that that's what they thought, then the Wincest bunch was their target audience for the new show. *shrug*

Interesting to hear your take on the finale. If I follow people who have your take, they're not vocal about it, or I'm simply missing it because I don't stalk Tumblr. All it takes for me to stop scrolling and go back to my writing is 3 unknown anime posts in a row or one reader-insert fic and I'm nope-ing the hell out of here. X)

I'm not going to argue against any of your points. It's great that you saw it that way. Fuck, I wish I did too.

I kinda feel like I need to address the child abuse comment I made, though. Some separate neglect and abuse like those aren't the same, some only count physical abuse, others include verbal abuse. Too many of my loved ones (both close friends and family) have experienced all three of those categories and the one who was left alone to care for her little sister as a child, definitely has a lot of mental scarring from it, so I'm counting neglect as abuse. That said, I fucking love John Winchester. So it might be Jeffrey Dean Morgan's charisma, so sue me. But John canonically neglected the hell out of his sons. We got proof of that even in this season when John drops his son off for days in a town where kids have gone missing recently. So, yeah... But, on the other hand, of course both he and Mary should end up in Heaven. Like, that wasn't even a question.

I think my strong reaction against it was how every part of the found family the Winchesters had gathered over the years was erased from the narrative as soon as Dean died. The only one who is shown as important is Bobby, a found-family member that initially was connected with John, not someone the brothers had found and connected with on their own. Bobby is also the only non-Winchester in the photos Sam has over his bed when he's dying. I don't know, man, "Everyone's here," simply doesn't do it for me.

"Family ends with blood" like the finale implied, only works if the greatest monsters in life haven't been family members, and my best friends (twins) growing up, just like my mother, were abused, mentally, physically, and sexually, by parents. I've seen the aftermath of those hellfires, how long it takes to assemble the fractures of your being and become, if not whole, at least functional and happy. For them, it was the friends they made along the way, those who loved them when they couldn't, who really mattered.

And that was one thing I really loved about SPN (and still do). Team Free Will. Wayward Sisters. All the people that they met along the way and connected with. I've loved to see Sam and Dean develop their bond by taking it from unhealthy, destructive co-dependency to step by step with several setbacks become their own individuals with lives outside of each other, yet still having the strong bond full of brotherly feels where the love they had for each other was rooted in respect for each other's differences and not who they "were supposed to be for each other". And unlike you, I can't see anything but regression in how the finale played out.

Okay, I gotta stop talking now. ^^ I have one scene my betas told me I need to rewrite in my next chapter, and another chapter half done, and I'm itching to post so I need to get on with it.

I hope I didn't put too much of a dampener on your enjoyment of the finale. My opinions don't matter. We all come from different life experiences and therefore find different things compelling and important. I don't begrudge anyone their happiness. <3

*Hugs*

[fiction-bks]

𝕋ℍ𝔼𝕄𝔼𝕊: ℍ𝕀𝕊𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕀ℂ𝔸𝕃. 𝔻ℝ𝔸𝕄𝔸. 𝔸ℂ𝕋ℝ𝔼𝕊𝕊/ℂ𝔼𝕃𝔼𝔹ℝ𝕀𝕋𝕐. 𝔻𝔸ℝ𝕂 "The dark side of Hollywood" is what I choose to title this book 😩😩😩 Because my women suffered like there was no God to save them or hear their prayers. 😩𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝙳𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎, 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚎, 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜.😩 Rating: 🌟🌟🌟 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘; The main plot is really good. Celebrity romance can be very intriguing. It is like reading this gossip tabloids but written by the celebrity themselves, so no stalking agenda. It was really sad what happened to the love between Kathryn and Alice. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒; The only two characters I liked were Robin and Jack. Robin was Alice's "could've been" gf and Jack was Alice's son. Alice was ok too but her timid traits got annoying after a while. And Kathryn, I don't hate her but I don't like her either. I hate it when someone knows they're doing something wrong and still do it... like really, why? And I don't know if she had a lot of flows. She needed a therapist and a real friend. A lot of things happened to Alice and Kathryn, they had flaws and issues and mental illnesses. Alice had anxiety and eating disorder plus a co-dependence trait. And then Kathryn, the alcohol, the drugs, the smoking, the unsafe sex.. very self destructive. like I said, she needed therapy and a real friend. The hetero sex was disgusting and most of it was non-consexual, with Alice saying no and Frank still forcing himself on her without a condom, many times. And don't get me started with Charles, that monster. The things he did to Kathryn. The endless abortions and then Vivian. And the mothers to Kathryn and Alice, such traumatizing figures. Good riddance. The book is good, kind of educative. Life is not easy. But I didn't feel good reading it or finishing it. No HEA. 😩😞 After all that suffering. 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣 𝘼𝙍𝘾 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩. #wlw #wlwbooks #sapphic #queer #historical #noncontemporary #bisexual https://www.instagram.com/p/Cjbky6ZDdxl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kawaiijellymonster]

So I’ve got a note in my notes app called “Fanfic lines that should be in a hall of fame” and it’s gotten pretty long so I figure I’ll toss it on here so yall can enjoy it, most of them are: mha, zukka, miraculous ladybug, harry potter, and I think one is from a comment on a hannibal amv, But here you go:

Stain sold papers because he just had an aura about him that drew people in, like people who slow down to look at car crashes.

“The Rumor Come Out: Does Todoroki Shoto is Gay?”

Izuku spent the next week going to his normal martial arts classes, studying, and drinking gallons of coffee. Not healthy but he could deal with it. His body was never meant to be permanent.

So no one was watching when Mei placed her forehead against his, breath fanning across his face as she spoke. "Wake up Loki… the world needs you."

“No probs ‘lil listener!” Hizashi said, striking a dramatic pose. “I’ll be your DJ all through the night, bringin’ you such rockin’ hits as safety, security and sweet dreams!”

“This is stupid! Screw the waiting and screw these stupid butterflies. They're not paying rent, the little shits--”

Experimenting with unstable genetic mutant abominations is more of an art than a science, really."

Several looks pass across both their faces. “No flying for a month,” Sirius declares. That sucks, actually. But he’s also a hundred percent certain he can get them to cave on that in two weeks tops. “Okay. Is that for the breaking into the Ministry, destroying the Department of Mysteries, making a bargain with Voldemort, or bringing all my friends with me?” “It’s for recklessly endangering your own life again,” Remus says, “and while the punishment very much doesn’t fit the crime, we’re a bit at a loss for what else to do.” “It wasn’t reckless!” he protests. “We had a plan and everything, and we even brought an adult! An adult Order member! Also what else were we supposed to do, let Snape die?” Sirius takes a deep breath, but Remus steps on his foot before he can put it in his mouth. “Which is why you’re only getting flying privileges taken away and not thrown in a cell in Azkaban for our sanity and your safety.” As if any cell could hold him. “I accept your terms.”

“Who’s Theophania?” Sirius asks. Harry hesitates. Perhaps bringing her up was his smartest decision, strategically speaking. “If I tell you you’re not allowed to throw me in Azkaban. Or ground me.” “This isn’t a negotiation,” Sirius repeats. If Blaise has taught him anything, it’s that everything is a negotiation. “She’s a friend.” “And?” Sirius repeats. Remus suddenly grabs onto Sirius’s shoulder, “Wait. Petrifying - during your second year - is Theophania - she’s not the basilisk.” “No, they killed it,” Sirius says automatically. Harry remains silent. “Harry!” He rubs his nose. “It turns out I’m not that good at killing things. Unkilling things, however? My specialty.”

“It’s okay,” Nanaia says, “you don’t know. What do you do when you don’t know something?” “Try something you do know and hope it doesn’t make everything worse?” For some reason, Horace looks sad at that answer, and Dumbledore shifts from one foot to the other. “No,” she says, “you ask for help.” Oh.

“It’ll piss off your son,” he answers bluntly. “Fuck that kid,” Riddle Sr. says

“You played me!” “Like a cheap kazoo”

Batman sighed, before speaking in a voice that was so unlike his usual growl that most of the other League members almost fell out of their chairs. Diana and Clark seemed to be used to it. “Damian,” he started. His voice was still deep, but a regular-deep, instead of I-just-swallowed-six-buckets-of-gravel deep.

“She loved James too,” she assures, and the confidence she says that with allows him to breathe, like someone has let go of his lungs. “It is possible to love more than one person at the same time. She loved your father with the type of love that’s – that was like a shooting star, burning and bright and touching everyone around them. Her love for Severus was different, and in the end it wasn’t the type of love either of them could handle.”

You’re better at it now then many people are after leaving a full apprenticeship, and you’ve only had a year of lessons a couple of times a week instead of years of intensive study. Do you know why that is?” “Luck?” he offers weakly. For some reason, he doesn’t like the direction this is going in. “No,” she says. “To be good at healing, the way you are, the way I am, you need a certain combination of things. Intelligence, power, control, but more than that. Stubbornness, a tricky balance of flexibility and inflexibility, and a constant, brutal assessment over your own skills. And something else.” “A propensity towards poor life choices?” he suggests. Poppy shakes her head, not taking the bait. “No. You have to care. You have to care about everyone, even people you dislike, and you have to care so much that if feels like it’s killing you, you have to care and that care has to hurt, until the only thing that hurts worse than caring is not caring. To be good at this, you have to let it hurt you.”

“You two shouldn’t have bothered dressing formally for Albus, he’s a bitch.” Harry doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, but he’s loving it.  

“It was on the syllabus,” Zuko whispered conspiratorially to his mother. Sokka gasped. “You know I don’t read those!” “This is your own fault then.” “I like to be surprised. The procrastination keeps me humble.”

sometimes you remind me of the stars youre gorgeous and happy and can always brighten me on the darkest days and even when youre dampened you can guide me home

“imagine you are the only person who loves to play chess more than anything but nobody else in the world has ever heard about chess. and then you see a person holding a chessboard. it’s like your whole world was reborn”

"I wanted to be a stripper in middle school," Izuku said. Yup, that's a good cover.

What you’re asking for isn’t fair or right. You can’t ask a person for more than they’re willing to give

In Mei’s words, “You have about five minutes of ‘fuck that one thing in particular.’ Make them count.”

“Mei, let me introduce your new best friend. This is Momo. She has a Quirk that lets her make anything as long as she knows its composition inside and out. All you have to do is buy her dinner,“ Izuku said,

The cameras were looped. The bots were hacked. It was a good day to be a villain.

“None. The alarm never left the building.” “Really? Why is that?” “Mei finished first and decided to do you a favor. However, you've got the fire alarm just starting to go off and that's on a different circuit. Take a fast way down.” “Understood,” Hitoshi drawled. A moment later he was looking back at the crew. “Ladies and Frenchman. We take the express.”

Quinn is talking like that actually answers his question when it really, really doesn’t. “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll cry.”

“You’re one of my best students,” ze says. “You should understand the importance of timing. Speaking of, you’re late for your next class.”

Fuck, he totally is. “Thank you for that very confusing answer. I’ll think of you while crying myself to sleep.”

He’d wondered if that was what bravery was, to be quiet even when you were hurting so much you wanted to scream.

maybe bravery was also running screaming at the thing that nearly killed you, to keep it from killing someone else.

“Apologies are not difficult. Good apologies revolve around three basic points. One, I acknowledge what I did was wrong. Two, I regret that you were harmed. Three, this is how I plan to make sure it does not happen again. That’s all. Apologies are easy.” Then she’d glanced at them all again, evaluating. “And if you become very, very good at your job... they will be the absolute hardest thing you ever do.”

“Even though we’re a bunch of migraine-inducing hellions who are smart enough to know when something is a bad idea and stupid enough to still do it?”

“You’re like the nice china that Al only brings out for Christmas. Except Bruce just realised that I stole it, and chipped it. Maybe it’s time I give it back before I shatter all the pieces.”

she won’t co-parent my perfectly reasonable and well-behaved children.” Clark snorts. “Damian’s trying to stab Tim, right now.”

"Oh, my knight in shining armour. What would I do without you?" the teen droned, placing a dramatic hand on her head. 

"I think you mean 'knight in shining leather', M'Lady. And without me, you would be left alone in this kingdom of lies.”

"It's a kingdom, alright. It'll topple sooner or later." "That's the spirit!" Adrien laughed.

Here’s something that a harbinger of tragedy would never find the courage to admit: there are moments in between the bitter self-hatred and the visceral, tangible consequences of your sins in which you almost think you’re worthy of forgiveness; of second chances; of a life beyond your greatest regrets. It’s a unique brand of pain,

“Go directly to horny jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.”

“You can’t wait around for him to be sorry,” Izuku says. He’s quiet now. This isn’t something that’s meant to be shouted. “Maybe he’ll never be sorry. Maybe he doesn’t know he did anything wrong, or he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.” Cautiously he takes a step forward. “You can’t depend on the people who hurt you to be the ones to make it better, or it’s never going to get better. They’ll only disappoint you, or hurt you even worse, and then they’ll be gone and you’ll be waiting forever.”

Midoriya may be strong as hell, but that just means looking out for him has to be a team effort.

How would his new adoring fans react if they knew he raised a villain? He's no All-Might. His pillar's made of toothpicks, and it's not gonna take much to crack it.”

Tensei approaches Rei, “Okay, this plan is childish, unprofessional, and a discourtesy to this school's reputation. That being said, when do we nail the little twat?

Hinata is dead. Deceased. Passed away, laid to rest with a headstone that reads Here Lies Hinata Shouyou, Killed By A Wink And A Blown Kiss.

It’s dangerous to be a bad father when you have life insurance