#not saying goodbye forever but definitely in a space where I need to say farewell until next time

[definitionsfading]

there always comes a point in my fandom arcs after 2-3 business years where all the creative passion and wind goes out of me and I fall to the floor like an empty sheet. I always get a prickling sense of when it's time to Move On with something else. but the fact that this happened immediately after part 1 of a 2-part fic that I haven't written a single word of prose for since March 17th is really a low blow, lmao.

somehow I have to find the scrap of light in me to finish this thing before I can close the door for a little while, and it's hard to even find that minute spark right now. I almost don't even want to do it. I keep hoping that waiting more weeks, or months at this point, will somehow grant me enough creative fortitude to finish things off. but I don't think I can keep going with any consistency right now. I do this for free and I'm all used up 🫠

[ahtsumu]

目送 ; oikawa tooru

「alt. title: five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did」

↳ pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

↳ synopsis: you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.

↳ genre(s): angst, fluff, basically an emotional rollercoaster, non-linear storyline

↳ warning(s): profanity, depiction of a panic attack, suggestive themes

↳ length: 5.4k words

↳ a/n: hq fam how we doing after 402 ?? LOL anyway this is my birthday gift to oikawa tooru: my sun, moon, and stars, second to none, yadda yadda. the title is taken from a book with the same name, in case you were wondering. please pay attention to the roman numerals ahead of each section!! enjoy!

v.

“This is the last call for Japan Airlines flight 717 to Buenos Aires, now boarding at gate number twelve. This is the last call…”

Goodbyes are hard when you know they’re forever. Or at least a while.

The clamour of Haneda airport dims to a faint buzz as the two of you continue standing with touching shoulders–– facing the jetliner instead of each other–– in futile hopes of delaying the inevitable.

Oikawa knows that you’re holding in your tears by the light tremors running through your body. Permitting himself to steal a look at your side profile, he notices the familiar tensing of your jaw and hard-set look in your red-rimmed eyes.

Tch. You said you wouldn’t cry.

Impulsively, he unzips his backpack and pulls out a familiar turquoise banner. It feels like just yesterday the team handed him the silk fabric with everyone’s farewell gifts wrapped inside.

Out-of-sequence memories of the Spring High qualifiers flash through your mind. The orange-haired Karasuno player’s spike ricochets off Oikawa’s forearms. The numbers on both sides of the scoreboard slowly inch up like they’re taking turns. Oikawa’s white knuckles against the metal basin. Red eyes. Heaving chest. Something soft against your skin. Rule the Court.

And just like the last time, he gently drapes it over your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your neck as he does so. God, how he wants to kiss you.

“But it’s yours,” you protest weakly, making no move to give it back.

“It won’t be for a while.” His voice cracks when he speaks. But it will be mine again when I come back for it.

He wants to kiss you. One last time.

He wants your mouth against his like absolution to a sinner because he knows that what he’s done to you, what he’s doing to you right now, is comparable to desecration. But he remembers the look on your face that night he broke the news to you. How your megawatt grin caved into a wince when the length of his contract with Club Athletico San Juan finally registered in your mind.

You swallow your feelings of betrayal. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Five years is an awfully long time to be apart,” you say after a while.

Oikawa bites his lip. He doesn’t have the heart to say that five was just the starting number. If he does well there, he’ll probably stay longer. He’ll probably do well there. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Seconds drag into minutes. The cavity in his stomach festers as he waits for your response, but he has a feeling that he already knows your answer.

So instead, all he can do when your floodgates finally burst open is cup your face in his calloused palms and wipe away some of your tears before offering you his own watery smile.

Through your blurred vision, you watch as the boy in front of you steels his resolve and disappears from your life through the jet bridge, ignoring his heart as it begs for one last look over his shoulder.

Oikawa nods numbly when the old man sitting beside him asks if he’s leaving home for the first time. Home, he realises, isn’t anywhere with walls, isn’t an address, isn’t even a person. When someone says they want to go home, it’s not a space that they yearn for, but rather, a time.

He watches Japan grow smaller through the window and feels himself yearn for the time he still had your heart in his hands. It felt like he was holding the sun.

i.

You wouldn’t consider July 21st to be a special day. Nothing special happened earlier that morning when you woke up without your usual alarm. Nothing special happened when your friends texted you four simple words–– come to Azukihana beach!–– during breakfast. But (and this will come to you much, much later) something special happened when said friends left you to guard their things as they dashed to the supermarket for more snacks.

For now, it’s just July 21st, and you’re lying with your back against a towel on the first day of summer break, soaking in the sun, peacefully flipping through a book.

“DON’T FUCKING DO IT, YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF SHIT!” The familiar voice tears through the beach. Was that Iwaizumi? You set the book down and sit up to check.

And suddenly, the yellow and blue volleyball that had been leisurely rolling your way halts perfectly before your toes. Behind it jogs a shirtless brunet you’ve definitely seen around school.

Oikawa Tooru stops right behind the runaway volleyball and peers at you through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry about that,” he says, flashing you a charming smile.

After casually picking up the ball with one hand, he flexes his abdominal muscles as he straightens back up. Chestnut irises attempt to discreetly sweep over your features but you catch his gaze in the act, quirking an unamused brow. You also catch the intrigued twitch of his lips that follow.

You’re not stupid. Despite having never met him, you know a lot about the Grand King (as many call him). He’s the constant subject of Iwaizumi’s ire and you’ve heard a lifetime’s complaints about him at joint-family luncheons.

But here’s what’s important: you know that he tears himself apart to be the player his team needs him to be, that he sometimes makes Iwaizumi wish he’d passed the Shiratorizawa entrance exam, and that he fiddles with hearts like origami and sets fire to those beautiful fragile trinkets right after.

And in the interest of self-defence (but against what the devil on your shoulder begs), you choose to not place your most prized possession on the table.

A simple “no worries” passes through your lips. You return to your book. A page turns.

Oikawa Tooru is dismissed.

Though your gaze is trained on the page, you can feel his presence at your feet for a few seconds longer. You wonder what his next move is. Much to your surprise, instead of trying to strike up another conversation, he simply lets out an airy hum and strolls back to the sand court where he came from without a second glance.

Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa is smiling so victoriously after watching the whole ordeal, but your tan family friend has, unlike the calculating Grand King, failed to notice one important detail:

your book is upside down.

And, as if in a trance, your eyes have followed Oikawa all the way back to his sandy kingdom.

Once the sun has set, Iwaizumi checks his phone and notices a text he’d missed in the afternoon. It’s from Y/N. Unease digs itself in his chest when he realises it can’t possibly be for anything except…

hey what was that about?

This can’t be good. Thumbs rapidly typing a response, he races to quash any interest you may have budding in Oikawa. You… you’re good. Nice. Smart enough for UTokyo. A bit naive, but he’s been around your overbearing parents long enough to see it’s not entirely your fault. And even though you run in different circles at school, he feels obligated to protect you from monsters that hide beneath pretty surfaces. He’s known you since the two of you were in diapers.

just trash being what it is

Iwaizumi watches the three grey dots on your side appear, disappear, reappear, and disappear again. And that’s when he realises that he cannot help you. The villain in this arc of your story has already sunken his teeth in your tender, unsullied flesh.

trash?

He sighs.

oikawa

It isn’t a surprise to Iwaizumi when summer break ends and Oikawa’s chestnut eyes start hunting for someone in the cafeteria during lunch. He doesn’t raise a brow when he hears that the second-year captain has been sneaking into Class 7, sometimes with flowers in his hands, and strolling out with a dazed look on his face. He slaps his teammates out of shock when Oikawa mentions his troubles with pursuing some girl–– but not before slapping himself first. Because the Oikawa he knows is not a chaser.

“Her name’s Y/N,” the brunet says, suddenly realising that he has never introduced any of his temporary interests to the team. But it’s been well over two months and he’s starting to think he’s been friend-zoned. Or worse. “I think she hates me.” He laughs melodically, then cocks his head in contemplation. “Is it weird that I kinda like that?”

Iwaizumi hides a satisfied smile behind a sip of water. Oikawa’s revelation has cleared the unease your name brought to his chest. Just a little. Perhaps he’d misread you. You have a bite of your own.

iii.

It’s routine for Oikawa to slink into Class 7 with a dazzling grin during morning break, but he’ll sometimes show up with flowers instead just to remind you that his affections, along with his modus operandi–– haven’t changed since he first started visiting you in September.

The girls in your homeroom have grown used to seeing the six-foot-tall volleyball captain hovering around your desk like a butterfly. Most treat him as part of the scenery nowadays. To them, Oikawa Tooru is no longer the mysterious, out-of-reach deity the rest of the school still paints him to be.

So when he strolls into class on a chilly January afternoon with your name a tune on his lips, they leave him be. Recently, the ladies of Seijoh have focused their attentions on some fellow on the swim team, anyway. Oikawa doesn’t feel as upset as he thinks he should about his shrinking fan club, but when his gaze finds yours already steady, expectant, utterly adoring on him, he understands why.

“For the lady,” he says like he does every time. A cluster of yellow flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper plop onto your desk. He pulls a chair up to your side, purposely ignoring, again, how two certain grooves in the wooden floor keep growing deeper with his visits.

You remember the first time he started bringing you flowers.

A posy of pink flowers sits awkwardly on your desk, untouched.

“I tell you I’d rather take your serve to my face than attend the bunkasai with you and your response is to give me weeds?” you reply with your chin in the palm of your hands, amusement blossoming over your features.

“Stop being a tease, Y/N-chan, they’re flowers,” he huffs, crossing his arms on your desk. “And I know you want to take them. The florist even said I have immaculate taste.”

“Really? Then what do these mean?”

Oikawa falters.

“Hmm?”

“Pink camellias,” he finally says, carefully enunciating the flower's name, “means that you’re a fucking tease. And that you should come to the bunkasai with me.” You snort and tell him to quit volleyball and join comedy club, feeling a strange warmth in your chest when he laughs.

The two of you fall into the same rhythm as always, talking a little bit about this and that, throwing in witty remarks where they belong, never passing up the chance to make fun of each other’s little idiosyncrasies. He’s enraptured by the way you string words together to describe the story behind your class’s bunkasai performance and all the gears in your brain whirr when he explains the strategy he’s using against the team Seijoh’s playing later that day.

When the bell rings, he reluctantly drags his chair back to the desk he stole it from. Just before he slinks back out the door, though, you tell him with a stern gaze that the Ushiwaka from Shiratorizawa he just spent the break shit-talking doesn’t hold a candle to Seijoh’s Grand King.

It’s like you had just stepped under a new light. Oikawa pauses in front of the doorway, trying to decipher what it is that’s different about you. And suddenly, the roses in his cheeks are in full bloom. Delighted and puzzled at his own realisation, he turns around without a second glance your way and strides back to Class 5. Oh, man, he muses as he passes through the emptying corridor. Oh, man. Iwa-chan is going to love this.

Your phone buzzes later that evening.

seijoh v. shiratorizawa 1-2, the text reads, quickly followed by, GAH.

Your lips twitch, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Tapping your fingers against your phone screen for a response that’ll cheer him up, you suddenly remember a phrase Oikawa said earlier that day. It drew a laugh from you when it came out his contorted face.  He was obviously still hung up over with the words of the opposing team’s ace. Hopefully, it makes him feel something else coming from you.

you should’ve come to shiratorizawa, you send, grinning.

His response is immediate.

l m f A O

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

And then you’re reminded of his petalled gift on your desk, now comfortably sitting in a glass vase at your bedside. Pink camellias, he said? Curious, you open your laptop and type in the name for its meaning.

Longing, you remember, watching your boyfriend chatter about something–– probably aliens–– animatedly. The yellow flowers on your desk, you realise, are ones you’ve never seen before.

“Oikawa, what’s the name of these?” you suddenly ask. He stops in the middle of his sentence (he was definitely talking about aliens, by the way), and grins smugly.

“Jonquils,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “spelt J-O-N-Q-U-I-L-S, means that your boyfriend’s going to colonise Mars one day. And if you’re lucky, you can be the first queen of Mars. How ‘bout that?”

It doesn’t mean what he says it does, by the way.

ii.

Splashes of pink and orange have already settled into the blue sky above when you step onto the rooftop of Seijoh’s humanities building. Despite the breeze that has swept through the air, the flame of curiosity in your stomach burns just enough for you to turn a cheek to the cold.

Come to the rooftop at 6 PM.

It’s 5:59. Impatient, you study the note in your hand again. Maybe you’ll be able to glean something from the laconic letter this time.

Much to your irritation, no one had seen the author of this note. They had expertly placed the unsigned card on your desk with a single rose and Hershey’s chocolate kiss on top during lunch. Elegantly scrawled, their seven words have had your brain running circles all day around their identity. Could it be…? No–– he seemed completely normal earlier today. Still, you can’t shake your suspicions. They borderline hope.

Who else…

You inhale the cool air deeply and lean back against the rooftop railing, eyes burning a hole into the metal entrance. The door swings open with a high-pitched groan. Your breath catches in your throat.

… if not him?

Time briefly stops when Oikawa Tooru steps through the entrance, still in his volleyball uniform, sweaty from practice, cheeks the same colour as the setting sun. There’s an unusually tentative look on his face, though it’s immediately wiped off and replaced with the realisation that this is real when he sees you slightly slack-jawed, blinking once, twice, three times before letting out a breath.

“You look surprised. Expecting someone else to confess today?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his uniformed chest. Despite how his features are contorted by his poorly hidden jealousy, you can’t help but feel a flood of blood rush through your veins, lighting every inch of your skin on fire.

Because whether he knows it or not, Oikawa, the Grand King of the Court, prettiest boy in all of Miyagi, has skipped the table and placed his heart straight into your hands.

“Of course not,” you retort. “I just didn’t think you’d… well, do something like this.” And I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Iwaizumi’s words still find their way into your mind sometimes. I didn’t want origami made from my heartstrings.

Oikawa’s demeanour changes and his eyes dart away from your face. Shoving his hands into his windbreaker’s pockets, he admits, “I’ve honestly never done something like this before.” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Really? You’ve never stepped foot in the fourteenth shrine of Sendai?” you tease, referring to how Seijoh students have claimed this very rooftop as one of the God of Love’s many temples. You both know he holds the school record for the number of visits to this rooftop. At this rate, he could be one of its caretakers.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a scowl, though the awkward tension between you two dissipates. And it feels like the two of you are back at your desk in Class 7, snickering uncontrollably while throwing playful jabs at each other. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Oikawa finally steps forward to join you by the railing.

Humming softly, he rests his elbows on the metal bar, props his head up with his hands, and sets his gaze on the lowering sun.

It’d be unfair to say that you didn’t at least try to enjoy the moment of peace with the boy beside you. But there’s a burning question on your mind that you can’t put off asking any longer.

“Why me?” you finally blurt out. “You could have any girl in this school. What made you choose me?”

The brunet whips his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “You think I chose to chase after the most annoying girl in all of Miyagi?” He laughs. “Ridiculous. I’d never willingly put myself through that unnecessary angst.”

You scoff and cross your arms.

“I think that when you like someone, it’s harder to explain why,” he quickly adds. “‘Cause it’s not supposed to make sense. I bet that the inability to explain your feelings is a prerequisite for true feelings, actually. It’s logical to say that you’d date Person A because they’re smart, or Person B because they’re hot, or Person C because they’re rich. But I’m pretty sure that that’s not… that’s not falling for someone. When you fall for someone… you just do. No logic required. You weren’t an option I ultimately settled on, Y/N. One day I just woke up and thought, if not you, then no one else.”

A beat passes. A flurry of words floods through your brain, only to evaporate when the devil on your shoulder decides that words aren’t quite adequate for what you want Oikawa to hear.

So instead, your feet take you one step closer into his space. Impulsively, your fingers find their way to his nape and your eyes flutter shut and suddenly–– suddenly, your parted lips brush against Oikawa’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss, soft lips surging against yours like a pulse under pressure. You barely register his arms snaking around your waist, tighter and tighter until the space between your bodies is completely closed off.

Breathless, you finally detach your lips from his. Oikawa, who still has you encircled in his arms, pouts at the loss of contact, though he sulky façade only lasts a second before it gives way to a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He looks magnificent. Cheeks red, lips flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide with excitement. You want to kiss him again.

“One more.” It’s as if he read your mind. “To celebrate that last one.”

When Oikawa finally detaches himself from your lips, it’s to respond to the buzzing in his pocket. Noticing your raised brows, he explains that it’s an alarm for practice. The Spring High Prelims are just around the corner and he doesn’t plan on graduating without never having taken his team to Nationals.

“That’s my cue,” he states with a warm–– read: not apologetic–– smile. He doesn’t grab your hand or look imploringly into your eyes in hopes that you understand, never mind that you just shared your first kiss, never mind that you just became his girlfriend.

If Oikawa’s looking for any sign of your objection, he won’t find any. Instead, you step out of his space with an acquiescent nod. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Play well,” you say softly.

But before he heads for the creaky rooftop door, he presses one last kiss to your lips. And then he turns around, whistling as he goes, leaving you beaming behind his back with the light of a thousand suns.

iv.

When Matsukawa hands you the turquoise “Rule the Court” banner after the team lunch with a shit-eating grin on his face, the only resistance you offer is a resigned sigh.

“I’ve been dating Oikawa since we were second years,” you say flatly.

“Sorry, Y/N-san, but it’s the team’s hazing ritual,” he replies, not appearing sorry at all. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t done it.” He jerks his head at the blonde girl standing a little farther from the group with Hanamaki. “Emiko-san did it at the last game.”

“Plus, it’s the Spring High qualifier semifinals!” Kindaichi adds. “It’s an even bigger deal for you to do it now, especially since you had to miss our games on the first two days for school.” The team murmurs in agreement.

You shudder at the thought of your impending distress. Sit in the front row of the cheer squad and raise the banner with a scream every time your boyfriend serves? Fleeing from the Sendai City Gymnasium back home in an expensive taxi suddenly becomes very appealing.

Seeing the expectant and hopeful looks on the rest of the team’s faces, however, you begrudgingly place the banner in your backpack, signalling your acceptance of the horrible, cringe-worthy tradition.

“Where is Oikawa-san?” Kindaichi asks, rotating his turnip-shaped head around rapidly. “He was just at the team lunch. Iwaizumi-san’s missing too…”

Kunimi shrugs, pulling out his copy of the team schedule. He starts herding the team towards one of the courts. “Our game against Karasuno starts about an hour, so we should start warm-ups in around fifteen minutes.”

Worry creeps up your spine. For the past few days, all Oikawa has talked about is this match against his bratty kouhai’s team. And in the past two weeks leading up to today, you haven’t been able to even catch a glimpse of his face outside of break or lunch. To suddenly go missing before warm-ups doesn’t seem like Oikawa. You’re about to ask the team if he’s ever done this before, but your phone starts ringing a familiar tune and the question is set aside.

“Iwai––”

“Third-floor bathroom by the orange pillar. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Emergency.” Through his harsh and abrupt tone, you pick up traces of fear.

“What––”

“It’s Oikawa.” The call is cut before you can ask any more questions. Heart suddenly racing, you tell the team that your mother just called with questions about your new smart blender and excuse yourself to “explain what the manufacturers mean by salsify”. No one sees you bolt towards the nearest set of staircases with Oikawa the only thought on your mind.

There are very few things in this world that scare you. Stray hairs in the bathroom, the dark, essays longer than three pages… but the terror that short-circuits your brain when you find your boyfriend in the bathroom–– knuckles white around the sink, chest heaving violently, frenzied pupils surrounded by broken blood vessels–– trumps any fear you’ve faced before.

Iwaizumi stands helplessly beside him.

“Is he having a panic attack?” you question, still unable to move your feet. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this before. He’s the Grand King who hums while he walks, who spams your phone’s camera roll with peace-signs and funny faces, who winks and flirts and teases without regard. But watching the long-deified setter crumble like a measly human before you, you realise that Oikawa is also the guy who tore his meniscus from overexertion, who trades sleep to study his opponents play, who works his body to the bone just to stay a hairline above a certain Karasuno setter.

“A scout for the Schweiden Adlers said that Kageyama will soon surpass Oikawa in skill.” Iwaizumi explains how they had overheard the conversation lowly in your ear. “I got us into this bathroom just before he completely lost it. 5-4-3-2-1 isn’t working. And he won’t listen to a word I say.” What’s 5-4-3-2-1? Well, if it isn’t working then don’t focus on that right now.

Your eyes dart to Oikawa’s quivering body again. “I don’t know how to pull someone out of a panic attack.”

“The goal is to ground him. So use physical touch, make him feel something with texture, and get him to talk,” he responds instantly. Mechanically. Like he’s all-too-familiar with this set of instructions. A heaviness grows in the pit of your stomach when you realise what that means for Oikawa. And yet, from that very dread sprouts strength.

Slowly, you tread over to Oikawa and place a hand on his arm. His muscles tense under your touch but when you murmur over and over that it’s “Y/N, your girlfriend, the most annoying girl in Miyagi”, his fingers loosen ever-so-slightly from the metal basin. He lets you lead him to the bench by the door. He lets you drape the Seijoh banner over his shoulders like it’s armour and wrap your arms around his waist. He lets you press your cheek to his sweat-drenched back.

Get him to talk.

“Remember that quote you showed me from that interview of yours? What was it again?” you question softly.

No response.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks,” you say into his ear.

Through the mirror, you see his eyes widen with recognition. In the brief moment of lucidity that washes over Oikawa’s glistening face, you repeat the original question again, followed by his own quote.

Again and again.

And Oikawa finally says back.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” Focus re-enters his gaze. He blinks as if just waking from a spell.

“That’s right,” you say as firmly as possible. “So don’t you dare break first, Tooru.”

An unreadable blend of emotions scrawls itself over his features. While Oikawa washes his face with cold water, you remember rumination and resolve but can’t decipher the rest, giving up anyway when Iwaizumi pushes open the bathroom door. When the light washes over Oikawa, his face shows no signs of the episode he just had. It’s just like how the sky moves on after a storm, how the sun beams to say, “I’m here now. The rain has gone.”

But sometimes it still rains in spite of the sun.

A sunshower. It sounds so beautiful. But it’s wonderfully sad.

The three of you wordlessly make your way to the court where the rest of Seijoh is likely getting ready to warm up. What are you supposed to say after that? What can you say?

Once the smell of air salonpas and sweat finally greets your nose, Oikawa slips the Seijoh banner off his back and hands it over to you. Guessing that’s your cue to leave, you tell him to play well like you always do before starting to head for the upper deck. Softly, Oikawa asks you to wait.

“Stay for warm-ups,” he adds. “Please.”

From your spot behind the Seijoh divider, you carefully watch for any signs of another breakdown. To your relief, he goes the entire half-hour without a single crack in his disposition, exchanging laidback grins with the team, bantering with Iwaizumi. At one point he even has the audacity to taunt the Karasuno setter Tobio-chan, as Oikawa often says with a sneer.

Sunshowers, Y/N. Sunshowers.

Just before the referees call for the teams to line up at their ends of the court, Oikawa jogs over to you, eyes folding into thin crescents when he smiles.

He pulls the Seijoh banner out from your hands and gingerly cloaks it around your shoulders. Oikawa presses a quick kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Thank you.” Something in face tells you that it’s supposed to mean more than gratitude. Before you can read more into it, he turns back around and jogs to the line where his team awaits. Oikawa grins ferally.

Knowing that your luminous eyes are fixed to his back like his own set of wings, the monster crows on the other side suddenly look more like humans.

vi.

Oikawa isn’t surprised that his text is still unopened. At twenty-seven years old, he’s had his fair share of dead-ends when it comes to love. But he hadn’t expected radio silence from you of all people.

After closing all the tabs of Team Japan’s latest matches, he powers off his laptop and checks his phone again to reread what he wrote to your old number one last time. Still nothing. It’s highly probable you’ve changed phone numbers at least once in the last nine years, but the disappointment’s still there after he powers his phone off for the night. Tomorrow’s a big day and he’s not the same victim of self-destruction he had been in high school.

Or so he thinks, realising that texting the last person he loved the night before the 2021 Olympics volleyball finals might have been slightly irresponsible on his part. A thought arises in his head, though he quickly quashes it. Asking Iwaizumi to pass the message along would be a little overboard, wouldn’t it? Oikawa chuckles, imagining he response he’d get from his best friend (and Team Japan’s team trainer, that traitor).

“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll put you to sleep, you dumbass simp,” he hears in Iwaizumi’s gruff voice.

He convinces himself that you’ll be there like you’ve always been. After all, he’s spent a lifetime with your pair of watchful eyes on his back. Satisfied, he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

The volume in the Ariake Arena is astronomical. Blood pounds against his ears as he sets the ball in the air, a monstrous grin carving into his face when his teammate José spikes the set straight down the net, drawing a wave of oohs and aahs from spectators on both sides.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the flashy Team Argentina setter and finishes taping up Ushijima’s arm.

Oikawa turns haughtily towards the opposite team, gaze zeroing in on Team Japan��s raven-haired setter and the shrimpy ginger beside him. It’s been a while since he last saw them this close in person–– the chance encounter with Hinata in Brazil happened well over three years ago and he hadn’t had the time earlier in the tournament to say hello. Of course they’re the final boss in this arc, he muses, though the thought is void of vexation. Instead, begrudging pride blossoms in his chest. Truthfully, he had expected nothing less from his kouhai.

And he expects nothing less than finally tasting the ambrosia of victory against that monster–– no, an entire generation of monsters–– today. Monsters who happen to be the kids he grew up beside.

He wonders what you’d say at the sight of Japan’s greatest players all gathered on one court. On instinct, his eyes dive into the bleachers, searching for your face. Knowing he’s not likely to find you like this, he tsks, deciding to look for Iwaizumi instead. Maybe he knows where you are.

The referees signal for both teams to line up at their ends of the court. As he steps onto the white boundary line, he notices Iwaizumi’s gaze transfixed on someone in the upper deck on Team Argentina’s side. The neutral expression on his face morphs into shock, then recognition. And then he glances at Oikawa.

The latter’s brows furrow before everything clicks in place.

Who else…

All your memories together hit him at full force–– your face shimmering with tears in front of gate twelve in Haneda Airport, the feeling of your shallow breaths against his neck, the savvy lilt to your voice as you speak.

… if not her?

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru looks behind his shoulder.

And there you are, leaning against the railing with the old Seijoh flag draped over your shoulders, a tender, splendid smile on your lips.

“Play well,” you mouth.

And Oikawa feels the sun rise back into his hands.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying  to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.” 

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Congrats on 750 and thanks so much for doing this! Can I please request “4. I need to know that you can trust me. Please.” for Tom? Angst to fluff with maybe a dash of smut at the end? I could see either Tom or the OFC say this under different circumstances, but I would leave that choice up to you! Thanks again and also thank you for creating such a wonderful blog:)

Thank you so much for sending this request! I will admit that this is incredibly long at 3.4k words and it 100% got away from me to take on a life of its own. As it stands, I couldn’t make any smut work in it, but I do hope that you enjoy it nonetheless!

Thank you to @vodka-and-some-sass who gave me some very helpful insight on this fic! It wouldn’t be what it is without you!

Warning: language!

Five Stars

“Ben, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m swamped working on the cues for-”

“Too busy to pop into our Ugly Sweater party? Nonsense! You must come. It has been ages since we’ve seen you.”

You made a noncommittal grunt, scouring the thoroughly marked script in front of you, ignoring the pixelated face giving you a very stern glare from the screen beside it.

“It starts at eight. Sophie will be so pleased to know you’re coming.”

The screen went blank after his unceremonious goodbye. You rolled your eyes before pulling the pencil from behind your ear to make another note. Ben was a force of nature, had been since you’d met him starting out in theatre, and it was easier just to go along with whatever he wanted whenever he got an idea into his head. Maybe a few hours of fun might do your exhausted mind a bit of good. Clear the clutter and whatnot. What could it hurt?

~

What was the line between a sweater being so ugly it was awesome and just being embarrassingly terrible?

You were sure you had crossed that line with the getup you were wearing, but there wasn’t time to change as you had already knocked on the door to the Cumberbatch house. You were swept inside from the soft snowfall into a pair of long, lanky arms and crushed against an almost skeletal body.

“It’s been so long! Come on, Sophie can open the wine you’ve brought, and then I need to introduce you to some new friends.”

You followed along without getting much of a word in edge-wise, nursing a glass of red wine thrust into your hand by Sophie before you made the rounds at Ben’s side. Names and faces went in one ear and out the other. Hands were shaken, cheeks of old friends were kissed, and small talk was made. The cheery Christmas music in the background and the slight buzz of alcohol in your system helped to loosen you up, and soon you were sitting on the arm of a couch, contentedly people watching when Ben confidently strode up to you, ushering along someone behind him.

“You look positively bored out of your skull, and I have just the solution. I’d like you to meet Tom,” he said with a grin and a flourish, stepping out of the way to present ‘Tom’.

“Tom Hiddleston,” he said, the familiar face sheepish as he held out a hand for you to shake. “Ben has regaled me with great tales of your running around together years and years ago.”

His hand was warm when you took it, smooth and firm and completely enveloping yours with the length of his thin fingers. “I’m sure they’re highly edited versions of what truly happened, all spun to put him in a more attractive light.”

“On the contrary,” he smiled, running his hand through the auburn locks curling behind his ears before shoving his hand into the pocket of his dark jeans, “they were tailored to do so for yourself. Perhaps you can tell enlighten me with your perspective?”

And that was how you spent the evening chatting with Tom Hiddleston. You had known that he and Ben were close friends, he’d been mentioned in passing before, but it was one thing to hear about ‘Tom flying to the States to work on a film’ and another to have the full force of Tom Hiddleston and his breathtaking rapt attention clothed in a gaudy Christmas sweater directed at you from close range. It was secretly thrilling to hold the focus of someone so beautiful, to watch his eyes sparkle and mouth pull back into a grin at your jokes and anecdotes. His hands spun tales in the space between you, as expressive and vibrant as his many impassioned tangents. You couldn’t deny the twist of butterflies in your stomach when his hand settled onto the middle of your back and his head craned down to better hear your point over a sudden burst of laughter from the other party guests.

But the night couldn’t last forever, and the glass of spiked eggnog Ben had slipped into your hand was in cahoots with the late hour to make you drowsy. Your poor attempt at stifling a yawn behind your hand did not go unnoticed by the keen blue eyes that hadn’t left you since you’d been introduced what felt like an eternity ago.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” Tom offered, standing up and stretching languidly. It was pure force of will that kept your eyes from lingering on the peek of pale skin at his hip revealed by the gaudy red bottom of his sweater riding up from the innocent movement.

You slipped your phone out of your pocket, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right. I’ve been working myself to the bone. I’ll just call an Uber and then make the rounds.”

His hand closed over your phone, pushing it gently down to your side. “I was about to leave. Allow me to give you a ride, in payment for monopolizing so much of your time?”

How could you say no to such an earnest face? With his brows lifted into a hopeful smile, you were hooked. “Let me say goodbye?”

You left Tom to wind your way through the mingling crowd, the music and murmuring having leveled off to more intimate levels as the evening wore on. It was easy to find Ben stationed in the kitchen, packing away the leftover finger foods.

“Heading out?” he asked when you handed him a cheese platter, glancing around you before turning to the open refrigerator once more. “Sophie wanted to say goodnight before she went up to bed, but she couldn’t find you.”

Their home wasn’t that big, but you let it slide with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You carefully put your empty glass into the overloaded sink. “Yeah. It’s getting late, and Tom offered to give me a lift back to mine.”

“Oh, Tom?” The interest on his overly expressive face was impossible to miss. “Hit it off, did you?”

You swatted at his chest before pulling him into a quick hug. “Oh hush, you. You’re about as subtle as a slap to the face. He’s nice. Come say goodbye, you meddling fool.”

He acted overly offended, hands clutching his chest as he led you back toward the front door where Tom was waiting, already buttoned into his black pea coat. “Meddle? Me? Never!”

Tom’s answering chuckle was filled with warmth as he pulled your coat from your hands, helping you into it without any fuss. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, but I’m inclined to side with the lady. You are far too meddlesome for your own good, Ben.”

“Would it be considered meddling to inform you both that you’re stationed underneath the mistletoe?” Ben asked, a devious smile on his face as he pointed above your heads.

Sure enough, he had cheekily planted that festive decoration right above the front door. Heat flooded your cheeks when you dropped your gaze down to Tom and shoved your hands into your coat pockets awkwardly. “That bastard.”

He shifted just a breath closer to you, so the masculine scented warmth of his body fought against the chill seeping through the front door at your side. “It is tradition. May I?”

When you quickly nodded your silent reply, his hand came up to cradle your cheek facing the room, permitting you a bit of privacy. As soon as your lashes fluttered against your cheeks did he kiss you, a quick, almost chaste brush of his lips, leaving you with just the barest taste of the chocolate he sampled earlier. It wasn’t enough.

You ignored the inferno set inside of you at the simple action and opened your eyes, startled to see Tom still so close to you. His breath fanned across your face, sweet and quick, and his thumb stroked your cheek softly before he released you from the captivating spell of his blown light-blue eyes.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his jacket up around his neck, shooting Ben one last glance. “Thank you for inviting us to the party this evening. I’ll get in touch soon.”

You waved your goodbye before following him outside, mind trying to wrap around being included in Tom’s farewell to your mutual friend. It was surely nothing, as was the way that his hand lighted on your lower back to assist you into the car. You were exhausted. That had to explain why you were so tongue-tied and nervous for the entire drive back to your home.

“That’s me,” you gestured to the side of the road, sitting up straighter in the soft leather seat.

He pulled to a slow and careful stop on the curb. The tense silence that filled the small space threatened to choke you, but you couldn’t make yourself reach for the door. Doing so would be a definite cap on the evening. The spell would be broken and you would go back to the mundanity of daily life without the captivated ear of a handsome gentleman.

Tom broke your sorrowful train of thought, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Allow me to walk you to the door.”

In the spare seconds that you had to compose yourself, all you managed to do was thoroughly inspect a smudge on his rear-view mirror. Cold rushed into the haven of his car when he opened the door, drawing you out by the guidance of his gentle hand. He followed you to the door, towering above you and ducking his shoulders against the frigid breeze that ruffled your hair.

“Thanks for the ride.” You fidgeted with the keys in your hands, worrying the worn metal. “It was much more pleasant than an Uber ride, that’s for sure.” So smooth.

“Will you give me five stars?”

The joke gave you enough confidence to lift your face to his. You startled slightly at how close he was, the fog from your breath swirling together to mix with the scattered snowfall. The tenderness in his gaze made your heart race in your chest. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips against the wind, and the darkness that flooded his pale blue eyes made your breath catch in your throat. Snowflakes caught on his light lashes and tinted his now rosy cheeks. You heard yourself ask, “What have you done to earn them?”

Uncertainty flashed across his face for the briefest of moments before determination ticked in his temple. He stilled the clink of your keys with his hand over yours, using the contact to shift that much closer to you. Hope and the desire that clenched in your stomach bid you to tilt your pouted mouth up to him in offering. He accepted, giving you a warm, gentle kiss that warmed you from the top of your head to the tips of your curled toes. The sensitive skin around your mouth tickled from the rasp of his short beard, wholly masculine and surprisingly soft.

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll call you in the morning.”

He stayed on your doorstep until you fumbled the keys into the lock with trembling fingers. The last thing visible through the slowly tightening crack in the closing door was his kind smile crinkling around his eyes, bright and full of promise just for you.

If he called the next morning, which would be impossible because you had forgotten to give him your number like a pining idiot, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. You woke to your phone blaring out your ringtone nonstop. It had vibrated itself right off of the bedside table onto the floor so you had to practically fall out of bed to silence it. As soon as you did, another call came through from an unknown number, followed by several texts and emails in quick succession.

“What the?” Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you leaned back against the side of your bed, opening your texts because you were definitely not alert enough to speak to a living person yet.

’ARE YOU DATING TOM HIDDLESTON?!?!’

‘Was that you in the papers with Tom Hiddleston?’

Practically every person under the sun that you had ever come in contact with had sent you a message or called you, flooding your phone with notifications you were instantly too overwhelmed to handle.

You grabbed a change of clothes, answering the phone on the next ring and shoving it into your ear, not even caring who had called as you gathered your things for a shower.

“Are you alright?”

Ben. “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?”

“I sent you a picture taken by the paparazzi yesterday. It’s all over the gossip magazines and websites. I haven’t been able to get a hold of Tom. I assume he’s been tied up with Luke all morning. Are you alright?”

You didn’t answer him, tossing your clothes onto the bathroom sink so you could flip through your overload of messages to find what Ben was talking about. There, on the front of some tawdry magazine, was a slightly grainy picture of you and Tom from the previous evening. There was no mistaking it. There you were, locking lips with the internet’s perpetually single boyfriend.

Shit. You placed the phone on top of your clothes, hitting the speakerphone so you could turn on the water for the shower. “Nothing happened, Ben.”

“I know that, you know that, and Tom knows that. But the world doesn’t, and several hundred-thousand opinions hold more weight than the truth in this instance.”

Hitting your head repeatedly against the tiled bathroom wall was suddenly far more appealing than the current conversation. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going to take a shower. Thanks for checking in, Ben.”

Hair damp and decked out in your softest lounge clothes, you had foolishly expected that the situation would somehow magically improve. But it only seemed to worsen upon leaving the sanctuary of your bedroom. When you peeked out from behind your curtains to see what all the shouting that you heard was about, dozens of men with cameras bigger than your face were visible across the street. They perked up at the movement and their huge black lenses all turned in your direction.

You were trapped. Grumbling, you turned on your heel to retreat to your room when loud knocks pounded straight into your skull, making you practically jump out of your skin with shock.

“Who is it?” you called, pressing your ear against the front door. Who would brave the field of paparazzi to visit you?

“It’s me! Please, let me in,” Tom called.

You hurried over and ushered him in before closing the door against the blinding flashes shot in your direction, blinking the spots from your eyes.

He held his hands out in front of him, palms up. “I apologize for showing up without an invitation, but I didn’t have your number, and I was concerned.”

You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the trembling in your limbs at the sudden spotlight thrust upon you, shrugging your shoulders in what wasn’t exactly a convincing act of nonchalance. Desperate to hide from his earnest, ever-observant stare, you went into the kitchen and set the kettle on the burner. “It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s whatever.”

His heavy footsteps matched the roaring pulse in your ears as his long legs quickly closed the distance between you. He carefully took your hand in between both of his, turning you to face him. “You aren’t fine.”

“No, I’m damn well not fine,” you huffed, pinching your nose with your free hand. You dropped your chin onto your chest, closing your eyes as you fought the anxiety gripping your lungs like a vice. “I woke up this morning to my phone blowing up because of a stolen picture with you. I’m sure half of the internet hates me because they think we’re this serious thing now, and any illusion of privacy that I had is dwindling by the second as they try to figure out who the heck I am to either crucify me or congratulate me. It’s just…”

He released your arm to curl his fingers underneath your jaw, lifting your gaze from the burgundy cable-knit jumper covering his chest. The genuine concern that creased his brow and tugged on the corners of his mouth would be your undoing if you allowed yourself the weakness. “It is quite the ordeal, and you didn’t ask for this aspect of our relationship.”

“There isn’t any relationship at all! It was only a kiss. Well, two, but still. It would be one thing if there was,” you paused, allowing yourself the luxury of fully savoring his electrifying touch before pulling your face out of his featherlight hold, “but there isn’t.”

His hand scrubbed over the whiskers muddying his razor sharp jawline before falling to ghost over the curve of your hip. “If there was, what?”

You didn’t know what you were saying, what you had just said and alluded to. Your thoughts were a blur and you couldn’t discern whether you wanted to hide from him or into him. Quickly replaying what you had blurted out in your distracted state, you sighed heavily, the weight of what could not be dragged down your shoulders. What would it hurt to say what had been lingering on your mind all morning? “If there was something between us, maybe all the scrutiny would be worth it. If we were together, and I didn’t have to face them alone. If there was a reason behind terrifying men shouting awful things at me outside of my home. As it is, I’m a prisoner in my home for no damned good reason.”

He took a step away from you, arms crossing over his chest. “A consolation prize, then?”

You wanted to slam your fists onto the countertop, scream and tear your hair out at the confusion and frustration of it all. Instead, your hands flailed uselessly in between you. “No! No, not that.”

“Then what?” he asked, silken voice as tight and guarded as the rest of him. Steely blue eyes held you captive as he demanded an explanation.

What did it hurt to admit your fledgling feelings at this point? “Being with you, it wouldn’t be some consolation prize. You aren’t a-a prize to be won, Tom. I like you, okay? It was fun to talk with you last night, and you sure are one heck of a kisser. Five stars, for sure. I just…” you waved your arms at the throng of paparazzi you could faintly hear gathered outside. “That’s a lot to take on, especially for someone I hardly know.”

His arms fell to his sides and he took a small step toward you. “If it weren’t for the fame, for the fans and the celebrity and the madness of it all, would you hesitate?”

“Not for a second,” you answered instantly. The answer came from deep within you with no thought.

“Well, then…” His hands came up on either side of your face, cupping your jaw. He moved with absolute care, slow and steady with plenty of time for you to stop him at any point. First his forehead rested lightly against you, then his nose nudged along your cheek, and finally his mouth slanted over yours in a kiss so full of passion and intensity that your knees buckled. He held you upright between his body and the counter behind you, hands splayed over your sides and fingertips molded to the soft flesh of your waist.

He tucked your head beneath his chin, nuzzling his cheek into your damp hair. “Give us a chance? Give this a chance.”

You dug your fingertips into the worn wool of his jumper, inhaling the dark and soothing scent of his cologne from your nose pressed into his chest. “Tom…”

“I will handle this, I promise,” he assured you, reaching up to cup the back of your neck, holding you to him. “I need to know you can trust me. Please.”

The tension slowly left your shoulders at the caress of his hand down your spine. You melted into him. “Ben is going to be insufferable when he hears,” you said, doing your best to keep the happiness from your voice, but you were no award-winning actor.

“Let him,” he growled, hooking his thumbs underneath your chin, tilting your face up to him so he could further prove to you with his pillowy-soft lips and coffee-laced tongue exactly why trusting him would be worth all the sorrow and strife waiting just outside your door.

~~~

Whole Shebang Taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @blah666 @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @silverswordthekilljoy

[rayoffrcknsunshine]

Favorite The Horror and the Wild Lyrics

Ya girl’s back at it again only a few hours later lmao!!! Here are some of my fav lyrics (tho yet again, you did not ask for them) from The Horror and the Wild that I compiled while Definitely ignoring my homework Oh Well

The Rockrose and the Thistle

All your mother's weaves and your father's threads / Let me rob them of you now / Cos I'll darn you back together / When you think that you're bereft

I wake and hear you calling / And up those cliffs I climb / And I find you with a thimble weeping / May I, I ask, may I? / And you gently gift it to me / Cos you've no clue how to sew / And I know the kindest thing / I pray to god it's the kindest thing / I know the kindest thing / Is to never leave you alone

The Horror and the Wild

You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments / In wonderment, at you and yours, forever asking more

You are that space that’s in between every page, every chord and every screen / You are the driftwood and the rift, you’re the words I promise I don’t mean

They thought us blind, we were just blinking

Remember me I ask / Remember me I sing / Give me back my heart you wingless thing

Witness me old man, I am The Wild

Fret not dear heart, let not them hear / The mutterings of all your fears, the fluttering of all your wings / Welcome to the storm, I am thunder / Welcome to my table bring your hunger

Wild Blue Yonder

So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes / Get a grip, we're grownups

Let’s wander, till the fuckers demand an encore

Let’s hide under the covers / We don’t know what’s out there / Could be wolves (Can’t you hear that scratching?/Could be all our demons darling/Could be ghosts or monsters or a robot vampire I dunno) / So hold me, lover, like you used to / So tight I’d bruise you / I’d bruise you, I’d bruise you too

And the candle we lit, well we’ll use it to burn this whole place to the ground / I’m lost / I’m found / In you

Every brick you hurled, I’ll use to build this world

Welly Boots

It’s just like falling snow, I am above you / And I love you, don’t you know / That I’ll be with you all along, as long as you are kind / To those who are not strong and cannot find their scarlet welly boots

Just because I left doesn’t mean that I’m not still there

I get to watch you grow up now / And make me proud, make all of the mistakes that make me laugh, oh darling lord how you make me laugh / Get drunk for me, sing louder than you’ve sung for me / Grow young each time that thunder in your lungs begins to rumble at the world

And louder, I’ll scream back to you from that unknown / And say / I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own

Just when you’re about to give up every hope you have you turn around Perched by the stairs, someone’s gone and left behind / A brand new pair of scarlet welly boots

Farewell Wanderlust

You don’t know it yet, but I’m the cupid of things / That you just didn’t get, that you struggled to say / I’m the saint of the paint that was left in the pot / I’m your angel ellipsis, your devil of dots

I promise you I’ll be better / I promise you I’ll try

I’m the heartbreak that aches far too much to be shown / All those letters unsent and that garden ungrown / I’m the captain of courage you’ve eternally lacked 

Farewell Wanderlust, you’ve been oh oh so kind / You brought me to this party but you left me here behind / And so long to the person you begged me to be

With hoik of her bra, she waved to the bar and she slipped into the night

Come devil come, she sang, call out my name / Let’s take this outside cos we’re one and the same / Our god has abandoned us, left us, instead / Take up arms, take my hand, let us waltz for the dead

I promise you I’m not broken / I promise you there’s more / More to come, more to reach for, more to hurl at the door

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light / Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night / This here isn’t make up, it’s a porcelain tomb / This here is not singing, I’m just screaming in tune

Fair

It’s what my heart just yearns to say / In ways that can’t be said / It’s what my rotting bones will sing / When the rest of me is dead

It’s what’s engraved upon my heart / In letters deeply worn / Today I somehow understand the reason I was born

I’ve seen enough he says I know exactly what I want / And it’s this life that we’ve created, inundated with the fated thought of you / And if you asked me to, if you asked me I would lose it all / Like petals in a storm, cos darling I was born / To press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading

And calm throughout his melodrama she will turn and say ‘dear heart It’s me, its me / You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not

Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment, ‘where have you been?’ / She’ll whisper ‘I’ve waited oh so long for you to come’ / And as the stars above them hum and hear them he’ll turn to her and say ‘that’s what she said’

I’ll spend my days so close to you cos if I’m stood here / Then I’m stood here / And I’ll stand here / I’ll stand here with you

That Unwanted Animal

‘Be good to me,’ I whisper. And you say ‘what’. And I said ‘nothing dear.’

Can’t you hear it? / It can hear you / It wants me to / (Throw the plate at the wall)

And we fall into each other / The scratching grows so loud / Because that unwanted animal / Wants nothing more than to get out / And I scream / ‘Oh What’s the time Mr Wolf?’ / But you, you’re blind, you bleat, you bear your claws

Cos if we join our hands in prayer enough / To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

And on the creature scratches, it doesn’t know how to get out (let me out)

Be good to me I beg of him / Be good to me I beg of him / Be good be good be good be good be good be good be good / And he replies… / ‘No no, not I.’

Marbles

Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep / But a place for crows to rest their feet

Oh if one more guy calls me darling then I / Swear to you and to god I will murder them all, all the bastards applaud when I show that I’m flawed / You’re not flawed darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed

Saying ‘I don’t know, but I’m here, I’m all yours, dear heart don’t cry’ / (Saying ‘I don’t know, but I’m here, oh dear god, dear heart don’t cry’)

The minute I met you the colours of my life begun to pour / I’m scared of the dark

And now, even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay, it’s okay / Cos now I get to meet you for the first time every single day

Battle Cries

Now the wind is so warm on the back of my neck / As I walk with the sun hand in hand from the wreck / Some fictions we took to mean fate believe me I know

Cos that sun that beams down as my hands touch the grass / After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last / For the person fifteen year old me would be proud to have known

Cos these plates they smash like waves

But that breathing you hear don't mistake it for sighs / Don’t you realise - They’re just battle cries dear / And these lines aren’t wrinkles dear heart / Hardly knew the words / They’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art

And as I walk away I know I’ve been through the wars / But that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause

This isn’t a break up dear heart, it’s a season finale

All it took to unearth in the dust and the dirt / Some release or respite from the heat and the hurt / Was taking the time now and then to ask how I am

And now at the end, at the end of all things / I’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind / I’m doing fine

[carrietrekkie]

Farewell

Hello!

I think the title say it all. In this part they say goodbye to Discovery, in the second part hello to Enterprise. And I´ll bring on a character I personally loved from the first second (beside Chris Pike).

Welcome (Part II)

Please leave me some fb! ;)

@bold-brave-courageous @allthetrek @reeselivesforeverinmyheart

“You stay here !?" Tilly stared at me. Guiltily I looked aside, but met Michael's eyes. "This is…! I mean ...! "She dropped onto the sofa that belonged to my quarters. "I don´t know what I mean." "Cathrin, you'll be gone for almost five years." Burnham sat down too. Spock stood in another corner, which I found strange, but at least he saved his words. I grinned that we probably still had enough time to talk. I knew that Michael wanted to scare me, but she had to realize it would not work. "I know, but honestly, who should I miss but you?" I smiled at the two. "And you probably will not be on Discovery forever." "Five years ?!" Silvia stood up. "Five years!" "Not continuous, Ensign." Spock finally said something. "Five years!" Higher rank or no, she glared at the Vulcan, then at me again. "Do you know what can happen at this time?" "No, but I'm sure when I get back there's at least one Lieutenant Tilly standing in front of me." I smiled, taking the wind out of her sails a little. "Maybe under Captain Burnham." Now I turned to Michael. "Or Saru, or, or." "And what about you?" "Maybe I'm a paramedic by then." I shrugged. "Or a doctor, or I can find something completely different here." My gaze wandered out into the vastness of space. "It is said that there are infinity widths."

“What gave you that idea?" "Captain Pike offered it to me, I suppose, quite simply." Now that they had all the information, I expected that they would try to convince me otherwise. "Wow, that's crazy." Tilly started to laugh. "That's an incredible opportunity!" Michael beamed at me. Slowly I turned to Spock, who raised an eyebrow and I put that on the list of puzzles to solve for the next five years. "You are not angry?" I sat down too. "Why should we be angry?" "Are you kidding?"

"It somehow takes a different direction than I thought." I smiled at them. "Of course we'll miss you, but hey, we can write." Tilly jumped up now, as did Michael. "But how would it be we if we help you move now?" "Everything I have fits in two small suitcases." "What about your car?" I sighed. Right, my car was still in the shuttle hangar of the Discovery. Maybe there was a place here somewhere, until I finally knew what I wanted to do with it. "I'm getting it brought here." Spock came up to us. "I'm sure Chief Louvier will find a place for it." "Thanks Spock." "Never mind." "Okay, then I suggest we meet in your quarters on the Discovery. Shall we say in an hour? " "Sounds good."

So my friends and colleagues said goodbye and with the typical hiss of the door, I was alone in this, still very poor-looking quarters. Slowly I walked through the small living area into the bedroom, adjoining a bathroom. I guessed it had to be an officer's quarters. I would probably have to thank Number One for that. I went to the wardrobe, pulled it up and had to smile at the sight. There was a row of light blue uniform jackets, dresses, trousers, skirts, boots. I only had to organize civilian clothes. Finally something I must do. I stroke the fabric. It felt a little lighter than the one I was wearing. I took one of the jackets from the hanger, plus pants and boots. Then I undressed, put my old uniform neatly and stowed it in the closet. I slipped into the new clothes, closed the zipper and then looked at myself in the mirror. I looked different, but it felt right, and I wondered again, if I had been born two hundred years later, if  I would have landed with Starfleet. Now it was official. I was no longer a member of the crew of Discovery, I now belonged to the Enterprise. I hoped she would become my family as well. I stroked my jacket, then left the quarters, hoping to find my way to the infirmary. Dr. Boyd would surely expected me.

***

He talked fast and he kept going up and down uninterruptedly. But surprisingly, I got everything. I was probably not out of practice and doctors seemed to stay doctors, no matter how much time passed. Now Dr. Boyd, head physician on the Enterprise, stood and turned to me.

"You look less confused than I assumed." "That's a good thing, isn´t it?" I smiled at him. "I would say so." He leaned against his desk. "The captain was pretty impressed with what you did on Star Base 10." My mouth twitched slightly. "I did what everyone would have done."

"Everybody freaks out at some point, that varies depending on the amount of blood or body parts." Boyd pushed off again, I watched him go to a console. I liked him already. "How about the following suggestion?" He pulled a medical record from a drawer, typed a few commands, slid it into the console, and then turned back to me. "We are about four days on the way to Earth." It beep, he pulled the tray from the console and handed it to me. "Read this, join me in the next few days at work and before we go, we'll decide what to do with you." I reached for the tray, it showed the symbol of the Starfleet Academy, the training course for the paramedic. I smiled a little.

"Ask me if you don´t get something." "Yes, sir." He ran again and I took the opportunity to follow him. "Doctor." He glanced at me. "Not sir. That makes me feel older than I already am. Or Phillip, but only if I behave like a complete idiot. " "OK. Do you do that more often? " "They say so." He looked at his tray, then looked up and seemed surprised that I was still there. "Don´t you have anything else to do?" "I thought I should follow you?" "Not today." Boyd smiled at me. "Surely you have enough to do and your friends are definitely waiting for a goodbye." I almost forgot that. I swallowed slightly. "It'll be easier if you don´t put it off." He put a hand on my arm for a moment. "We will spend a lot of time together. Let's go. "He gave the whole thing a nod, so I thanked him with a smile and left the infirmary. I turned off somewhere wrong, because instead in one of the transporter rooms, I landed again on the bridge. "Oh, that seems somehow to be my thing today." "Back here?" Spock caught me. "You got lost." "Is there any plan from this boat here?" I made a movement that encompassed the whole ship. "Don´t let the captain hear that." He reprimanded me. "I'll give you a plan. Where do you want to go?" "Discovery." I turned back to the turbolift. "I have to pack a little something and say goodbye to my friends." "I bring you."

So he joined me in the turbolift and chose the appropriate deck, which I hope would keep in mind. And a few minutes later we were in the transporter room. "Thanks, Spock." I smiled at him. "I think we'll meet more often now?" "If you wish for that." "Uh, well, I thought because I live on this ship now and you live here." God, it sounded like I was going to hack him. "Forget what I said." "You are a friend of my sister, of course we will have to do with each other." He tilted his head slightly. "Maybe we will become friends too?" "You and me?" I went up to the platform. "I am a very emotional person." "That doesn´t have to be a bad thing." He stopped the transport process. "See you later." "Yes, see you later."

My confusion was still in place when I materialized on Discovery. Luckily there was only the transport chief, so I hurried to get into my quarters. I was late, Tilly and Michael would be here any moment. So I threw everything I found in my suitcase and hoped I wouldn´t forget anything. I was halfway through my rooms when there was a knock. "In."

The door opened and my girlfriends entered. The good mood of the hour before had disappeared, I already noticed that before they had entered correctly. "Please don´t." I looked at them. Michael was still in control, I wouldn´t have expected otherwise, but Tilly's eyes were slightly red and she was holding something. " I have to pull myself together anyway.” "I'm sorry, but I just realized what it means you leave." "Tilly." Burnham nudged her. "I just cannot stop." I didn´t know if I should find it sad or sweet, I got her a handkerchief and handed her. "Thanks." She somehow managed a smile. "When did you leave?" Michael looked at my suitcases. "All I have to do is check that I have everything and then my luggage will be taken away and when Pike says goodbye to you later, I'll say goodbye too." "Ohhh, that will come too." Tilly sniffed again. "Do I have to listen to this?" "Yes, you have to. You owe much to the captain." "Tribblepoo. Then I need more handkerchiefs. "She looked down briefly. "Oh, that's for you." "What's that?" I took the present, it was soft and pressed together. "You're alone on the Enterprise, well, not really, but it takes a while to make friends and that's why."

I tore open the paper, a light gray blanket fell out. "Tilly, that's yours." "Now it's yours." She grinned. "I expect you to bring it back to me somehow, someday." "I have nothing for you. For neither of you. " "You don´t need too." Michael grinned at me. "We just want you to come back, that's all." "I will do my best." "Okay, let's get ready for Pike's farewell. See you soon! "Burnham put his arm around Tilly and shoved her to the door. "See you soon!" They left and I became painfully aware that I wouldn´t see them for a long time. I had to distract myself, otherwise I started to cry. So I began to stuff the blanket in the suitcase, shut it and managed to close the closures. I quickly went around and was surprised that I had actually forgotten nothing, so I closed the two bags and then opened my communicator.

"Zimmer at Enterprise." "Here Transporter Room 4." "I had my luggage ready to beam." "Roger that. Quarters 2518? " "Exactly." As soon as I said that, a golden light caught the suitcases and a blink of an eye later, it had disappeared. "Your other piece of luggage was taken to the shuttle hangar and secured there." "Thank you." "Enterprise end." Slowly I closed the communicator, then I looked around in the now empty quarters. Although it had only been my home for a short time, I had only moved once and now twice in a very short time. "Take care Discovery." I took a deep breath. "It was interesting with you."

Then it rang at the door and I wondered if it was Tilly again. "Yes, please." The door opened and Captain Pike entered. He now wore his golden uniform and also in his eyes swung a little melancholy. Anyway he wriggled a smile as he looked at me. "Wow, you look great." I spread my arms and turned briefly. "It really suits you." "You too." I smiled back, yes, he looked damned good. "But I think the blue had something for itself." "Yes, me too." He looked around, then slowly started to walk around. "Ready to pack?" "I didn´t have much here. The Enterprise just beamed it over. "I looked at him, he looked sad. "What do you have?"

He sits down on the couch. "I didn´t think it would be so hard for me." "You will get your ship back." I sat next to him. "I thought you were happy." "I am, of course." He jumped up and started walking back and forth. "But I still feel like letting the crew down." "You don´t do that. It was clear it was just for this mission, wasn´t it? "I thought I remembered that Stamets had said something like that. "Yes, of course, but we've been through a lot." "You and the Enterprise crew are not?" Pike smiled at me. "I think nobody is mad at you here. I think you did more for the crew than you know. "I straightened up. "I don´t know all the details, but they had been through a lot before you took command." "Yes." He raised an eyebrow. "Thank you."

"I also believe, to those things belongs a bit melancholy. "I shrugged my eyebrows. "If nobody cries, then something goes wrong." He smiled, then offered his hand to me. I hesitated for a second, then grabbed it and let him help me off the sofa. He cocked his head to one side and sighed slightly. "I hope I'm not crying."

*******

Captain Pike was probably the only one who didn´t fight with tears when he said his farewell words on the bridge. "I want to thank you all. We've been through a lot together, skidded through many dangers, and I think I remember laughing from time to time. "He looked around at the officers on the bridge. I had joined Tilly and watched him speak his last words as Commander of Discovery. "I wish you all the best." Pike smiled in the round. "Your new captain is lucky and could be proud of you all. Every one of you has grown dear to me, despite the short and turbulent time, I will never forget what you all did for me. "He sighed slightly. "Take care of yourself." "You too Captain Pike." That came from Saru and after he had said that, the crew started to clap and the ranks broke up. Some stepped forward to say good-bye to him personally, so it seemed to me as I turned to meet Detmer and Owo. "Oh hello." I smiled at them. "We just wanted to say goodbye." Owo put an arm around me for a moment, which I replied, Detmer did the same. "I hope you find a new home on the Enterprise." "I hope so too." I was touched, I didn´t think I was so popular. "Take care of yourselves!" "You too." "Goodbye." I looked after them, followed by a few short handshakes, before Saru came up to me. "Commander." I nodded to him. "I wanted to thank you for always being so patient with me." "Cathrin, you have always been a good listener." He put a hand on my shoulder for a moment. "I wish you all the best." "Oh Saru." I put my hand on his, which was still on my shoulder. "I really will miss you." "I want to give that back." Then he went on. As long as the new captain was not on board, he was in command. I thought he deserved to be promoted to captain. I looked around the bridge one last time. Pike was exchanging a few words with Owosekun. On the other hand, all that remained for me was to prepare myself for the hardest farewell. I went to Michael and Silvia, who stood next to the turbolift.

"Now it's time." I sighed heavily, then pinched my lips. "You two are the best friends I could have found and you don´t even believe how hard it is for me." I blinked a few times. "I wish you all the best Cathrin." Michael grabbed my hand and I squeezed it. "I can only give that back." I reached out and closed mine on Tilly's. With her other, she wiped a few tears from her face. "I really want to tell you something nice, or something terribly profound or inspirational, but you see where that leads." She pointed to her face. "I'll just write it down and send it to you."

I laughed, then I pulled both of them over and put my arms around them, both returned it and so we stood there. Happy and sad at the same time. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them again I saw Pike standing behind us. "I hate to bother, but we have to go." "Yes." I took a deep breath, then released them. "I'll miss you so terribly." I took a step back. "Who do you say that to?" Tilly glanced at Pike, opened her mouth, but immediately closed it again. "I'm curious how our paths cross again Ensign Tilly." Pike shook her hand and the already completely resolved Tilly shook it briefly. "I'm sure you will make your way." "Thanks Sir." "Michael." He nodded to her. The two had already talked, I knew that. "All the best Sir." She put an arm around Tilly and pulled her slightly to one side. "You too." Then he looked at me. "Can we?" "Yes." I returned it and we entered the turbolift.

"Captain Pike." Suddenly Saru stood with Burnham and Tilly. "Take good care of her!" Pike smiled, then nodded to the Kelpian and I waved to my friends before the doors closed.

"Transporter room four." Pike gave the order, then looked at me. "Well, nobody cried, so it was not so good?" I smiled weakly, then my feelings thwarted me. I was so determined not to cry, but now, in here and with the chaos in my head, I couldn´t help it longer. "No, it was wonderful." The rest went down in a sob and I put my hand over my mouth. "Oh hey, what's going on?" He teared his eyes and turned to me.

I sniffed aloud, that couldn´t look very elegant, then I looked at him. "Sorry." I wiped my face but that didn`t really make it any better. "It's just." Again I sniffed and suddenly I felt him put his arms around me and I returned it without hesitation, grateful to be able to hold me anywhere. "Don´t tell me you've changed your mind."

I smiled slightly, but he couldn´t see that. He held me so tight that I could feel his heartbeat and his heart beat fast. "No, I didn´t change my mind." Pike took a deep breath, he didn´t even bother to hide his relief. I pushed him away from me for a moment and grinned at him. "What about you?" "What should be with me?" "Do you already regret your offer?" The lift stopped, I released him. Chris hesitated for a moment, then joined me. "No, I don´t." He smiled broadly at me, catching the next tear that leaves my eyes with his thumb. "Everything okay?"

"All right." I followed him as he started to walk. "I was just torn all day and it seems that the point was reached where it wanted to get out." I closed up to him, then something struck me. I tapped the wet spot on his shoulder. "Sorry." "Barely noticeable." He winked at me.

I withdrew my hand as we reached the transporter room. At the entrance I had deposited a bag, strangely, had still found some that had to go with me. I just wanted to throw them over my shoulder when Pike took them from my hand. "I'll take it." "Thank you."

We nodded to the transporter officer, then we entered the platform. I turned slowly once more, then my eyes met Chris' again. I smiled, which he took as an opportunity to give the order for the transporter. "Energy."

Then the transporter carried us away from Discovery.

********

Dedicated to one of the Doctors that accompanied me on my way. If you want, my Phil Boyd . I hope he found his “Haus am See” in heaven.

Masterlist

[head-and-heart]

The 100 Highlights - “How We Get To Peace” (5x08)

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait for this highlight post. I was out of town visiting family for a week and didn’t get a chance to rewatch the episode until today. And, unfortunately, I am about to be swapped for the next ten days (at least) so you can probably expect the 5x09 highlight post to be pretty late, too.

... And the 5x10 recap.

But anyway - super excited to get into this episode! Hope you enjoy my thoughts. :)

Feel free to read up on the previous posts in this series here. 

“I’ve seen the horrors we inflict on each other in the name of survival, colonel. God knows I’m as guilty as anyone, but we’re on the brink here - on the edge of an abyss I’ve stared into before - and I can tell you, having sacrificed the few to save the many more times than I care to admit, eventually, the few becomes the many. The ends don’t always justify the means and if you don’t know that by now, after everything you’ve been through, then you’re just as bad as Octavia, and we’re already lost.” 

At first I was a bit thrown by Kane’s speech here because Charmaine’s move was, objectively, very politically savvy (and it seemed a little out of place, considering Kane was the one who implied that if Charmaine got rid of McCreary she wouldn’t have to be concerned about resistance anymore but whatever) but - in retrospect - I do see the value in it. It seems to reflect what Bellamy and Clarke do later in the episode to Kara Cooper (which was honestly SO fucked up guys, like, holy shit). And the line was well delivered too. Very dramatic.

I kind of like this Vincent guy. Hm. Seems too nice to be a cannibal/serial killer. Speaking of which, are we ever going to see him snap? Maybe in 5x11 ... and that’s when we’ll get Abby telling the story of what happened in The Dark Year. :o I’ve cracked the code fam

Echo suggesting that they kill Zeke made her more familiar to me. Her character arc seems pretty on track (based on this episode) with what I have already speculated and I expect that we’re going to see her facing some issues with her old methods soon (maybe next episode?). I did like how they have set up her character arc in this episode.

I’m really enjoying that they have Indra teaming up with our mains this season. It’s an interesting dynamic, to see her interacting with characters besides Octavia and Kane this season and I am really enjoying it.

LEMME TAKE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT ZEKE PUTTING HIS HAND IN FRONT OF RAVEN PROTECTIVELY K

Listen, I know that their relationship has no base to it and they barely know each other and their connection doesn’t even really make sense *realistically* but I really, really LOVE Raven and Zeke’s dynamic. Lindsey and Jordan have fantastic chemistry and they look so good together and Zeke and Raven’s personalities/intellect complement each other so well. Also, this is a television show so lack of development DOESN’T MATTER, especially considering Zeke hasn’t killed Raven’s family or ex boyfriend or anything which - if you ask me - is a definite bonus! I just loved that little detail of him looking out for her, despite being angry (and having every right to be) because he feels protective of her and can’t really explain why just yet.

Also, I am in no way delusional enough to believe that the writers intentionally paralleled Bellarke and Zaven in this episode but this moment was visually extremely reminiscent of Bellamy jumping in front of Clarke in 2x09 ... so that’s a plus.

Everything involving Raven and Abby in this episode was just the most gut-wrenching, fam. Raven’s concern over Abby being threatened by Diyoza and her determination to protect her and Abby lying was just ... a Lot. It shows how far gone Abby is and added some new stakes to her addiction. I think it was important to show how Abby and Raven’s relationship will be affected by this.

“Your mother would be proud, Monty.” I wonder if anyone has told Monty this before, and how much he probably needed to hear it. In all that had happened, I forgot that Kara Cooper and Monty come from the same station on the Ark, and that they have probably even known each other for a long time. I never would have guessed that I would love seeing them interact so much but their scenes in this episode were so cute? Cooper laughing at Monty’s jokes about getting lit was the scene I didn’t know I needed. Leave it to The 100 to humanize the Worst character in the episode they get killed

THE ORIGINAL MURDER TRIO IS BACK AND AT IT AGAIN

I have to admit, in a kind of sick way I liked that we had Monty, Clarke, and Bellamy back at their old shenanigans again? Like, this felt like an indirect callback to Mount Weather, where they all committed mass murder together. This time, they’re trying to prevent that from happening again. It’s weird to see how their old allegiances and perspectives have shifted from that moment - and yet, they all continue to cooperate with each other.

“What’s one more, right? We’re all murderers.” OOF MONTY I FELT THAT

“We’re talking about taking one life to save hundreds.” “Really? Then let’s kill Octavia.” I literally yelled DRAG HIM at my screen when he said this lmao. Monty had ALL the lines in this episode. Like, damn, I love that he is questioning Bellamy and Clarke’s decisions in this, how they just revert so easily back to their same old methods. It’s refreshing to see.

 And also, he’s RIGHT. What Bellamy and Clarke are doing is so fucking twisted. They are literally killing someone in the most grotesque manner and framing them for something they didn’t even do all in order to avoid killing someone else - the person who forced her to commit the atrocities she has in the first place. Let’s face it: Cooper is easy to hate but the only reason she is the way she is is because of the system that Octavia created, the game Octavia forced her to play. And yet, they won’t kill Octavia, because of their own selfish wishes. It is absolutely fucked up and I am so glad that Monty called them out on their bullshit.

I really loved Murphy looking at Clarke’s drawing of him and Emori chained to the rocket from 4x08. It was a nice detail (and parallel to Season 4′s corresponding episode) and callback to include. Here’s hoping that we get to see *cough* other characters looking at pictures of themselves that Clarke has drawn. You know ... no one in particular.

“Tell me what we’re looking at.” 

“I don’t think we’d see it the same way, but all right. That’s where the trading post will be. And next to it will be a farm, and a workshop, and a mill ... And a real medical center, for Abby. To the south, there’ll be homes dug out of the ground to preserve the trees, and at the center, there’ll be a well, a place for people to gather, talk, debate ideas.”

“And a school with a playground where kids can blow off steam and bitch about their teachers and kiss under the bleachers. My kid.”

LET ME TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE !!! I LOVED THIS SCENE. 

I think this is the very first time (with the exception of Briller and the chickens) where any character has explicitly voiced their greatest wishes for the future, how it looks in their mind. And it’s so fucking tragic because you can just visualize it so clearly, but it feels so far away. That future doesn’t seem possible. It’s so melancholy and I love how Ian and Ivana delivered their lines in this scene.

Also, soft!Charmaine is EVERYTHING. Her line about the school and the teenagers “bitching” and making out and doing regular teenage thing was just so ... normal, it was honestly startling to think about. That’s the life that the hundred should have had - that they’ll never get now. I love the baby storyline so much (and I never thought I would like a pregnancy storyline but I do) because it humanizes Diyoza in so many ways. 

The music in this scene was gorgeous and matched the tone so well, I honestly started tearing up a little bit don’t @ me. I have a really big feeling that this discussion will come up again - either because we’re going to see this vision completely destroyed, or because we’re going to see it come to fruition. With the space travel theory, I do kind of wonder if we might get an “epilogue” of sorts for the people who stay behind on Eden, where we see Kane and Diyoza’s vision has come true (and maybe they’ll both even be there). It would be like a farewell to the characters who remain on Earth. I think it would be beautiful. (But that’s all assuming that the space travel theory is correct.)

As mildly annoying as it was that Kane literally named Diyoza’s baby for her (wtf Kane???) I did appreciate the symbolic purpose of naming her child “Hope”, especially considering the episode title “Pandora’s Box”, in which hope (aka. Kane/Baby) was the last out of the bunker and then flew away with Eligius. It’s a nice follow up to that little piece of mythology.

In a way, Kane, Abby, and Charmaine are delivering Hope (literally and figuratively) to the people. Which is also why I believe that they may all remain behind in Eden at the end of this season as we see our mains (ie. Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, etc) take off into cryo sleep, officially saying goodbye to all of them forever. (Goddamn I’m already crying and the season finale hasn’t even aired yet? THe fuck)

Also side note to talk about how vindicating it was when Kane was judging Charmaine the entire episode about her damn notebook (”names of the people you killed?” stfu) and it turned out to just be a goddamn list of baby names and defense strategies. Sit the fuck down, Mark.

I present to you: the creepiest fucking shot this show has done. And yet, I really liked it? Showing Cooper’s reactions by shooting through her helmet was a really well done creative choice. It was so trippy and it made her death feel so visceral and real. It honestly kind of sickens me to watch this scene, tbh.

On another note, I cannot BELIEVE how many stomachs Jason has forced me to watch explode this season .. the audacity ...

Emori establishing healthy boundaries is ... EVERYTHING. It’s so important for the writers to have addressed the toxicity in their relationship in this way. 

“Trouble in paradise?” I kind of love that McCreary says this to Memori because it is exactly what Murphy said to Clarke and Finn in 5x06 after the massacre. That’s some sweet kind of karma right there

Everything about Raven and Abby in this episode was absolutely devastating. Lindsey and Paige both killed this scene - the emotions were so real. Lindsey did such an amazing job portraying Raven’s hurt and rage - I could feel her emotions so viscerally. 

“Don’t you talk to me about pain.” If anyone deserves that line, it is Raven. She has been through hell and back and has had to be so strong for so long. I really liked that line.

CLARKE SITTING ON BELLAMY’S BED IN HIS TENT. Man, I would LOVE to see how that scene went askskqisks

Also, Clarke comforting my poor baby just like old times ... *sigh*

Although I have some reservations with the dialogue in this scene, I do appreciate the sentiment. Despite everything that has happened, Bellamy and Clarke still have such an understanding of each other. They forgive so easily - it’s practically second nature at this point. While I hated how Jason Rothenberg-y Bellamy sounded when he called Clarke a “mama bear” it IS nice that he is acknowledging the role that Madi plays in Clarke’s life. I feel like he finally is starting to understand just how crucial she is to Clarke, and recognizing that he felt the same way about Octavia. It gives them something new to connect over. Also, I’ll never turn down Bellarke being soft with each other.

Plus, have you ever seen a softer smile than Clarke Griffin’s? Cause oh boy am I not over that. She looks so fucking bashful when she looks up at Bellamy I can’t deal gotDAMN

“The worms were already loaded in the rover, so. What was Cooper doing there?” Marie’s delivery in this episode was SO good. God, she’s so creepy and she’s Killing It.

“Careful, big brother, or I’ll think you helped her and we’d have enough prisoners to settle this in the ring.” LISTEN. I WANTED THE EVERLARK AU SO FREAKING BAD CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT NEW MEANING THE WORD “TOGETHER” WOULD HAVE HOLY SHIT

But also, Bellamy’s desperate looks/protests were A Lot in this scene. He really can’t fathom losing Clarke again. His and Clarke’s tragic looks towards each other just really fucking hurt - they’ve been here before. And last time, they didn’t see each other for six years. 

“Keep Madi safe. Promise me.” “I promise.”

GOD. CLARKE LITERALLY JUST GAVE HIM FUCKING CUSTODY OF HER CHILD UMMMMM HOW ONE DOES FUNCTION??? She trusts him so much i’mma cry. Also, his called out promise. He sounds so wrecked, but he needs her to know that he will keep Madi safe, needs her to have that comfort, just in case he never sees her again. Don’t Touch Me.

“Did he hurt you?” Protective!Zeke is always a plus but I’d be lying if I said that this scene didn’t immediately remind me of Bellamy asking Clarke the same damn question in 1x10. God, these unintentional Blarke parallels are really coming for my life huh

“Have you ever loved someone so much that no matter what they do to you, or themselves, you take it?” “Mom or dad?” “Mom. Drank herself to death.” I loved that Raven has finally found someone she can open up to. Feels Good, feels Organic. But also this scene came for my LIFE it was so angsty and so good. Raven breaking down absolutely ENDED me (and Zeke comforting her ... someone call 911). I really loved how they made the parallel between Raven’s mom and Abby - it just made the previous scene all the more devastating. So often it feels like the writers on this show forget about these characters backstory and I’m so happy to get these little callbacks every once in awhile.

“The answer is yes.” The fact that Raven and Zeke have this new unexpected thing to relate about is A Lot. I felt this scene deep in my bones. 

Plot twist: Abby dies because she is eaten by Vincent, and her withdrawal symptoms are just a red herring to keep us on our feet. ;)

“So much for The 100.” Hello, favourite line of this episode. Y’all have no idea (NO IDEA) how much it means to me to hear a reference to the heart of this show again, especially from Bellamy. He hasn’t forgotten, but it appears that Miller has. Wow. I felt that one.

“I can’t let you kill Clarke, O.” NO YOU CANNOT

“Here we go again. Pleading for the life of a traitor ... who you love.” DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS LINE HONESTLY Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW WHY IT ENDED ME

BELLAMY’S FUCKING FACE JOURNEY HOLY SHIT. THEY FOCUS ON HIS FACE FOR SO LONG AND YOU CAN JUST SEE - YOU CAN SEE - HIS INTERNAL STRUGGLE. GOD.

I totally overlooked this the first time I watched it but I love how Bellamy tells Octavia that HE made a deal with Diyoza. Clarke has already been sentenced to death and still, he’s protecting her. He won’t let Clarke get hurt for the deal she made - instead, he takes the blame. I just love him a lot fam.

Bob and Marie’s acting in that final scene was SO FREAKING GOOD. Both of them killed it. It was so devastating. 

“My sister, my responsibility.” While I was predicting before that this line would happen if Bellamy had to kill Octavia, the fact that it came back in the same context (with Bellamy having to protect others from Octavia, rather than the other way around) was so perfect. I love when writers take old lines and give them new meanings and that’s exactly what they did with Bellamy’s old mantra. It was so powerful.

AND HE DID IT ALL FOR CLARKE. HE CHOSE FUCKING CLARKE. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY???

So. 

That was a wild ride.

Hope you enjoyed reading my take on 5x08 and my favourite parts! Looking forward to the next episode in a few days. See ya then! 

[guttersvillemayor]

Goodbye My Tragic Love Story

[I wasn’t sure when it happened but I knew I needed a change when the only time things seemed to make sense was when Pedro was around. When I found myself waiting for the next time he and I would cross paths. With Pedro, it was like I was a person and alive again. But the second he went back on the road, the numbness would return and I’d miss the life I knew back in New Orleans. I had the perfect excuse to go back and spend time with my family for a little bit with the holidays coming up. So as soon as I made up my mind, I started to pack up my stuff and set the wheels in motion to return to Louisiana. The few friends I’d made travelling seemed to understand my need to go home and recharge, but I wasn’t sure Pedro would understand. The second I told him of my plans he seemed to question little details I hadn’t wanted to think about yet like how long would I be gone and where would I be heading off next.

Doing my best to brush them off for the short period of time before I left, I focused more on finding presents for my family so I wouldn’t arrive home empty handed. When the time came for me to leave, I hadn’t realized how many people I’d come to know on the road until we all got together at a local hangout in Portland, Oregon where I’d last set up base camp. It was an interesting night which made me wonder how I could have gotten to know so many people and yet still feel the need to go back home. However, I couldn’t focus on those feelings as the puppet master behind the event stayed near me the entire night. A bright smile coming to my face as I turned towards Pedro as another person came to bid me farewell before they left for the night.

Once it got late enough, the last of our group of wanderers hugged goodbye and Pedro took me back to my place for the night. I would be heading out the next day and I wasn’t sure when I’d see him next. My place wasn’t much, just a little mother-in-law type apartment over some couple’s garage, but it had an amazing few and I didn’t need much space when by myself. Wanting to take one last gaze at the spectacular night sky from the balcony, I stepped outside while Pedro was in the bathroom. The haunting thoughts slowly finding their way from the background where I’d pushed them lately. Why did it seem that I could never find a sense of home or place no matter where I went. How could I be so unhappy in such beautiful places and with great people just like how I’d come to feel when I was back with my family in New Orleans. The fears that I was somehow broken coming to me unbidden and I release a heavy sigh into the night sky. My thoughts consuming me so much that I don’t notice Pedro has come out to join me until his arms wrap around my body.

“That was some serious sighing you did there, mi flor.” The warmth of his arms help me to relax a bit as I lean back into his body letting the growing tension in my body dissipate. “What’s wrong?” I shake my head and gaze off into the stars.] Nothing, just ready to be home and see my family. It was different when I lived in Baltimore, I had a job and life I’d built for myself there that kept me from being able to go home for holidays and such. But out on the road, not going back home is a choice that makes me feel guilty for missing this time with them… if that makes sense. [His lips press a soft kiss to the side of my neck as he hums his understanding causing goosebumps to bubble up. His voice soft whispering across my skin and sending shivers down my spine. “As much as you might enjoy going on adventures and travelling these days, you are more of a homebody than you realize, beautiful.” His words aren’t meant as an accusation or to point out a flaw, but yet I feel as if he’s called me out in some way. And I don’t like how it seems to resonate with my thoughts and fears. So I quickly turn around in his arms and do my best to redirect the conversation along with my thoughts.] Last I checked, you seemed to like this homebody, if I’m not mistaken. [

Not giving him a chance to respond beyond a nod of his head, my lips capture his and with a skill I didn’t possess before Pedro, I guide our slowly-entangling bodies towards my bed. It’s not until hours later when I’m laying away next to a sleeping Pedro that those same intrusive thoughts return. My gaze now focused on the sleeping man who seemed to be the only thing driving them back and yet causing them at the same time if I was being fully honest with myself in the dead of night. I was running away. Scared of who I was becoming with Pedro and what that would do to me when he wasn’t around in the long run. I needed space and council from one of the few people I trusted and that meant running back to Louisiana. Of their own accord, my fingers hover just over Pedro’s feature wanting to touch and catalogue everything about him but not wanting to wake him up as well. So instead I settle for my favorite way of documenting this gorgeous man who let me into his life and changed mine forever.

The soft clicking of my camera eventually waking him up in the dawning light of morning. His voice rough and husky from sleep as he gazes up at me from the bed. “What are you doing there, mi flor?” I chuckle and snap one more picture before setting down my camera and joining him again in bed.] Just adding another picture to my collection. [His eyebrow raising tiredly amused at my admission as I blush and bury my face into his neck. “And exactly how many of these pictures of me are in the nude?” The light caress of my hand down his exposed back stills for a moment until I pick up on the teasing tone of his voice and let it continue its journey down Pedro’s body.] More than enough to satisfy me on the lonely nights… but I’d never say no to adding some more, if you’re willing. [His low and sleepy laugh does things to me with my stomach flipping in anticipation of his answer which comes in the form of his lips kissing my own.

No more photos were taken with my camera, but I was left with more memories of my time with Pedro before I finally had to pull myself from my bed. How I made it through the rest of my time with him that morning without losing it, I didn’t know but as his arms wrapped around me as we stood by my car, there was such a sense of loss going through me that I seemed to hold on to him for dear life. “Be safe, querida. Text me when you get to Louisiana and when you’re back on the road, okay?” Not trusting my voice I simply nod my head and press a gentle kiss to Pedro’s lips.] Take care of yourself, Pedro. [A look of confusion passes over Pedro’s face and I know I need to get away before I say something else I shouldn’t. “I’ll see you soon, Emma Jean.” His words seeming to follow and haunt me as I head off on the road.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Those parting words did haunt me until the moment I saw Pedro on the streets of Fairhope, looking for me. It had been hard explaining the need for a recharge to Pedro without giving away just how much he’d become a part of my life on the road. But maybe something that last night together stayed with him until he felt he had to come here. I was still reeling from all the craziness of the pregnancy and Pedro showing up and hadn’t even noticed that it was Valentine’s Day weekend until I woke up the next morning to Pedro making breakfast in the kitchen. The noise of him trying to find certain kitchen items rousing me from my sleep and I noticed that at some point, Pedro had moved us from outside to the downstairs bedroom. As quietly as possible, I made my way to the kitchen, not stepping fully inside as I take in the picturesque setup Pedro has put together most likely to surprise me, including some flowers. Seeing the silly box of chocolates it hits me that the dreaded romantic holiday has come.

Most years I had avoided it as who would want to be reminded that they don’t have anyone special in their lives or feel ridiculous celebrating their lack of companionship. But it seemed Pedro for whatever reason was going to make things awkward this year when I’d rather just keep forgetting this weekend was even a thing. The soft sound of him cursing pulls my eyes from the tray and our gazes meet across the room. “I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” My left eyebrow raising up pretty high because while Pedro can be very romantic, this was definitely something that was more relationship-y than he normally did. Which was even more glaring after the conversation we had yesterday. He laughs at my reaction and pulls a pan off the heat on the stove which I’m guessing from the sizzling sound was bacon and I’m so very thankful for my lacking sense of smell that spared me from wanting to run for the bathroom and the porcelain throne to lose what little I had in my stomach.

I definitely had food aversions with my pregnancy but no sense of smell meant there was no heightened sense of horrible smells to cause really any morning sickness. I mean I still threw up from time to time as nausea remained a pregnancy issue but usually I didn’t realize some food was going to bother me until it hit my taste buds. So while I didn’t have to make Pedro get rid of the bacon like most pregnant women probably would, I definitely wouldn’t be eating it myself. In fact, it was only in the fridge because Dahlia and Reba hadn’t known of my pregnancy aversion to it when they bought it recently. Thankfully I had sausage patties that I could heat up instead as the craving for meat hits me. Finally stepping into the kitchen, I head towards the fridge to satisfy my current need for meat. Unfortunately the task doesn’t mean I can avoid the conversation that I know is about to happen.] As sweet as that is, you don’t have to do anything like that for me. Especially if you’re doing it for the sake a ridiculous holiday.

[My gaze leaving his so I don’t have to see whether or not that bothered him. I no longer felt on equal footing with Pedro, not that I really ever was. But now that I was acknowledging my feelings for him, I knew we had no future together and so I didn’t want to see if my words hurt him. There was already a serious chance we’d both be hurting by the end of the day with what I knew had to be said between us and I just wanted to at least enjoy my breakfast before reaching that point. “Well be that as it may, I thought you deserved to be spoiled a bit, mi flor. I’d found myself missing doing that the past few weeks.” His last words are spoken softly as if he hadn’t realized that fact himself until he uttered it out loud. My traitorous heart fluttering at the possible hope of what this could mean until the fluttering nausea in my stomach from our growing child drags me back to reality. With the sausage in hand, I press a soft kiss to Pedro’s cheek as I take over at the stove using a new pan to cook my sausage, worried that any leftover bacon grease might ruin the food for me.] Thank you for being so sweet, handsome.

[We work in tandem to finish the breakfast that Pedro had planned out at some point over the weekend and instead of using the tray he’d arranged, we took our plates outside to sit on the same piece of furniture we’d made love on last night. A heating blush creeping up my face when that thought comes unbidden and Pedro chuckles softly as if he can read my thoughts. But still we sit in silence as we eat our food and enjoy the beautiful morning and the waves of Mobile Bay. Almost as if it was the calm before the storm. Each moment making it very clear that while I could imagine a future here with Pedro and our child, he didn’t feel the same way. With each bite, I worked hard to build up the walls around my heart as well as the courage I needed to speak my piece to Pedro before things got any more complicated or drawn out. And when we both finished our food, I took the empty plates and set them aside not wanting to lose my nerve by putting it off any longer. “So what do you want to do today.”] Pedro, we need to talk. [We both speak at the same time while I turned my body to face him, and I can tell he’s confused by my words. “What’s wrong, querida.” His hands reaching out for mine but I keep them buried in my lap, clasped together. A deep breath coming through my nose before I open my mouth and for a moment nothing comes out. And it’s only my fear of what Pedro might say as I see his own mouth open that has my brain finally function properly.] I can’t do this.

[He quirks his head even more confused and I shake mine when he reaches out for me once more.] I’m sorry, I just can’t go back to how things were between us and pretend like that’s okay with me. [Tears welling in my eyes and as painful as it feels with my heart breaking to say the words, I don’t let my gaze pull from Pedro’s confused and hurt face.] You don’t want to settle down, and I respect that. Complete and total respect. But… [My voice breaking as I try to say the truth that I’d realized the night before.] I want that for myself. I might not be as religious as my parents, but marriage means something to me and I’m going to want to get married eventually. I don’t want to have some open-ended relationship, I want to be tied to someone in a more permanent sense. And I always knew deep down I’d be a mother someday. So I can’t deny that I do want marriage and kids in my future. Maybe not all of it at once and obviously not today or tomorrow or even in a year or two. But one day, and if there was a chance that one day you would have come to want those things too, the situation would be different. But you don’t and I don’t want you pretending that could change.

And, as much as I care about you, I also don’t want to continue this when I know it has an expiration date. I’d rather say goodbye now and part ways with only happy memories of each other. You have changed my life, Pedro, in ways I can’t even begin to explain, and you will always be a part of me. [My hands instinctively move to touch my stomach but at the last second I bring them up to place them above my heart instead. It’s as if the words are still hitting Pedro and I see him run a hand through his hair as he takes it all in. From his eyes, I can almost see the gears in his head moving trying to come up with some response but I know anything he might say could lead to me revealing more than I want.] You don’t have to say anything. I just care about you too much to not say something and let this continue on. [This time I’m unable to keep him from grasping my hands in his own as his words come out strong and adamant. “I care about you too, Emma Jean. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”]

No you don’t understand… [“Then make me understand cause I don’t get where this is coming from.” Our words seeming to overlap one another.] … I love you, Pedro. [This revelation seems to knock the wind out of Pedro’s sails. His gaze frozen on my face and it almost seems as a look of horror is etched on his face. “I…” he starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say next. A low, painful chuckle bubbling up at how this is all playing out and the picture of what we must look like right now.] You see now why I can’t go back because for as much as you might care about me now and hell, maybe one day you’ll love me back. Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you’ll return my feelings eventually? That we’ll be happy together? Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I think a part of me has always known from the start that we were headed here. [Another bitter chuckle escaping me.] I always knew that you were too good for me, that I couldn’t be so lucky after all these years, but I wanted to believe it so badly that I lied to myself.

[Pedro tries to disagree but my fingers cover his lips to physically keep him from speaking words that will hurt me more in the long run.] I wish I could say that maybe someday things will be different, that we can find our way back to each other, but we both know that would be a lie. And I can’t wait here hoping for that day which might never come instead of moving on with my life. [As if taking the words literally, my body reacts as I stand up and try to put some physical distance between me and Pedro. “This isn’t fair, Emma Jean.” The gut punch of those words have me whipping around to say something and he holds his hand up to hold me off, clearly wanting to say his own piece now. “I don’t mean it like that. Of course, it’s fair for you to be honest about how you feel and what you want in life. I’d never deny you that, ever.” What space between us is gone as he closes the gap and brings a hand up to cup the left side of my face, and in my weakness, I lean into his touch. “What isn’t fair is that I do love you back but as much as I might want to, I also can’t change how I feel about marriage and kids. I desperately wish I could because I never imagined falling for someone like I’ve done for you, but I can’t deny you the chance at being a mother… because you would be an amazing one.”

If his admission of love wasn’t enough to rip my heart out, his words about what kind of mother I would make has me choking out a sob from deep inside me. How did this happened? How had it come to this? How could life be so cruel to have us fall in love and yet want such different things? This was sadly the end of my story with Pedro because I knew that if I ever saw him again, I would either have to come clean about our child which wasn’t something he wanted for his life even after falling in love with me or I would have to hide their existence which even just the thought of doing so felt like a betrayal to my unborn child who I already loved and felt protective of, even if that meant from its own father. Pedro’s lips capture mine cutting off my sobs and I can feel his own tears as we kissed one another with an urgency unlike before now. This was goodbye and we both knew it. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt and given him hope, but I knew for myself and our child that it would only lead to more heartache in the future.

Our frantic energy propelled us back to the bedroom I’d woken up in and once more we’d made love. However, it was clear this would be our last time together and no matter how much we wanted it to never end, eventually it would. Just like on our last night together in Portland, I found myself laying next to Pedro, trying to memorize every little detail. Things I could tell his child in the future when they were curious about their father. I wouldn’t lie to them. They would know about the love we had for one other but how our story was meant to end this way. How thankful I was to have a piece of him with me forever, and how much I wished I could give him the same. So quietly I padded my way to the living room where my camera sat and brought it back seeing Pedro sitting up and looking around for me almost panicked. “I thought you were gone.” His voice breathless and worried and it hurt my heart because soon enough we would be gone from one another’s lives. But instead, I did my best to get out a chuckle and tease him.] This is my home, remember?

[And I can tell instantly my attempt at humor failed and he was reminded that I would always be here even after he left. My hand brings up the camera with a playful wiggle and I smile softly.] I was going to grab this. I figured we could… [I trail off, but it’s clear he knew where my mind was going and his arms reach out to pull me back into bed. We took several pictures together and I even let him take some of me by myself, which was rare as I liked to stay behind the camera not in front of it. But soon the sun starts to set and we know our time together has come to an end. So I let him pack his things up, while I quickly work on my laptop to gather anything and everything I can share with Pedro as a memento of our love story. I can feel his eyes on me from the office doorway once he was done collecting and putting all his stuff back on his camper. Tears again threatening to fall, but I do my best to hold all the emotions at bay. Which isn’t easy in my hormonal pregnant state.

Getting up from my desk, I hold out a thumb drive that he takes but not without letting his fingers caress my own.] It’s just something to remember me by and I also send you backups to your email. [A watery smile slowly forming as he clasps one of my hands in his own and leads me outside to his vehicle. Our bodies facing one another as we say goodbye for the last time. “I love you, Emma Jean, and hope you find the happiness that you’re looking for in life.” Unable to help myself, I press a wet kiss to Pedro’s one final time and then pull back as tears stream down my face while my gaze holds his.] I love you, Pedro. Please take care of yourself and be safe out there on the road. [He simply nods and steps back from me towards his vehicle, gesturing something that’s between a salute and a goodbye wave. I let my arms come and wrap around my middle, both to support myself and cradle my unborn child, knowing it was just me and them now going forward.]

[winterverses]

Witchfire

Chapter Two

The plains, so dry in summer, were a clouded, stormy expanse of creeks and pools and waterlogged paths in the rainy season. I could barely stand the thought of it, and seeing the landscape I would soon have to cross, I shrank into Balthier’s side, flinching at the first few drops of rain. I didn’t know if I could do this. I’d almost opened my mouth to say so when he spoke.

“Nothing to worry about, Lysa,” he said, his arm coming around me as familiarly as it did with Fran. She was nowhere to be seen, that having been one of the concessions I’d made. I couldn’t afford the both of them, not even in two more years. I wouldn’t have been able to afford Balthier if he hadn’t allowed that since he’d known my brother, he would lower his price. It was still every coin I had and a few that I didn’t have, yet. “Cross the plains, get the Serpent Rod, and then back home to your studies.”

I still wasn’t sure about this. If I could have afforded both of them, I would have paid in a second. Fran had bidden us goodbye back in Rabanastre, just outside the imposing stone gates that led into the city. Neither of them had seemed to mind the cool, wet wind that blew in from the Giza plains. I’d been there in the dry season, of course, but never the wet season, and even that gentle misty wind felt like it pierced me to the bone.

Before they parted, there had been a moment where Fran and Balthier had shared a look that filled me with both curiosity and envy. Their eyes had met, and he’d smiled a little, a true smile, not the smirk that I had so often seen curving his lips. Fran’s impassive mask had softened, not an answering smile but a warmth that reminded me of the comforting, joyous feel of my fire.

“I will be waiting. As always.” That warmth had flickered just underneath Fran’s customary solemn tone.

“I know,” Balthier answered. It would have sounded like a cocky rejoinder unless one was paying attention, and though I had tried to hide it by checking the straps on my pack, all my attention was definitely on them.

The moment had evaporated, though I’d felt as if a hint of it lingered. They were so clearly close that it felt wrong to ask them to separate. There had been no hesitance in Balthier’s actions, however, and Fran had gone back to being as detached as I had come to know her to be.

As we’d said our farewells, Fran had looked down at me, her eyes faintly amused, and then back to Balthier. “Enjoy yourselves,” she’d said.

I hadn’t been able to muster an agreeable reply to that. “I’ll try,” I’d said, unable to help the unhappy set of my mouth or the dubious look in my eyes. Water everywhere. I was fine if it was contained in a bath or a jug or even a rain barrel, but water all over everything? It just wasn’t natural.

Shaking myself back to the present, I eyed the scene in front of me. Little rills of water ran over the grass near the creek bed. All of the little gullies had turned into streams. Not a single leaf that didn’t droop under the weight of the water pouring from the dark clouds above. The fire inside me shrank away from it all. “I can do this,” I said softly, though every nerve in me strained away from the wet. Water everywhere. I made myself speak louder, more firmly, hoping it would trick me into feeling more confident. “Let’s go. I can’t stand here waiting for it.” The very earth was soaked, damping me back, cutting me off from the elemental fire that always danced in my guts, along my spine.

“Too right,” Balthier said. With his arm still encircling me, he stepped forward, bringing me along into the wet.

That first day passed mostly in silence. We hunted, the both of us, speaking to each other in gestures and soft words. The great, scaled croakadiles that were our prey were rare and hard to find, their bulging bodies and huge tracks notwithstanding. They were the only ones that dropped the Serpent Rod, however, and so we had no choice but to search them out. More than once we found ourselves tracking our way to a dead end, the footprints disappearing into a stream or washed away by the omnipresent water. The sky weighed heavy above me, pregnant with storm, and the rain fell so thickly that at times one could barely see. Indeed, I was surprised when Balthier called a halt that first day; I could see no difference in the grey skies above.

“It’s late. We’ll hunt better with some rest,” he said, gesturing toward a nearby bluff that had an overhang, the sheltered base of it nearly dry despite the incessant rain. “Let’s make camp.”

I did not protest. I would never have admitted it, but the rain was taking its toll on me already. It was something I’d been prepared to face, the weakness once I was cut off from my element, but I wondered whether the Sisters knew how much of an effort this would be for me. Wordlessly, I helped to set up the shelter, using the tiny bit of my gift that I could find to dry the soaked grasses to crackling beneath our feet and prepare a warm space where we could sleep. We each had our bedrolls, and we each laid them out in the tiny space, side by side, near the small fire I was able to start even with the damp wood that was the only fuel we could find.

Once we had eaten and were settled in for the night, Balthier sat back on his bedroll, his eyes fixed on me across the warming, welcome fire. “You’re still tense,” he said, his eyes raking me over. I’d dressed more practically for an excursion, with an oiled hood and cloak and well-worn leather armor that had been my mother’s, but his gaze made me feel somehow uncovered.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, and then regretted my harshness. “It’s hard. Harder, anyway. The fire is usually so close, and now it feels so far away.” I couldn’t keep the longing from my voice. The little glow across from me was comforting, but not enough. I could plunge my hands into the fire and still I would barely feel it.

“I see,” he murmured, his hand dropping to the butt of his gun. I’d seen that gun applied to great effect today, the few times we’d run across some predatory creature. He freed it from the holster, checking it over and then breaking it down, using a soft rag and some oil from one of his pouches to clean it.  “Is this what you expected?”

“Yes,” I said, shifting over toward the lee of the bluff. That it brought me closer to him was only happenstance. “Actually, it’s why I’m here. It’s a trial, of sorts. If I can survive this, then I’ll be ready to go further with my studies.” I looked away from him, staring out into the inimical rain. “I’ve always been able to feel it. The fire, I mean. Here… it’s so hard to reach.” I forced a grin, my unease clear even to me. “That’s why, though. If I can’t do this, then all the attunement in the world to one element is useless.”

“Even in theoretical studies?” Balthier asked, and I could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes. He raised himself on an elbow. “I’d think such a strong gift would be a boon no matter the circumstances.”

“That strong gift leaves me weak elsewhere,” I said, my voice edged. The fire snapped as if punctuating my words. “They teach us that we all trade strengths for weaknesses, but I would rather try to have greater and lesser strengths.” I laughed softly. “Or to at least know how to deal with my weaknesses.”

He paused in his work, his fingers absently stroking the barrel of his gun. His eyes caught mine, holding them until he looked back down. “A very practical outlook to have,” he finally said, putting his gun back together. “Doesn’t that make having me here a little like cheating?”

I pulled back, momentarily stung, and then saw the quirk of his lips and the taunting glimmer in his eyes. I wouldn’t let him needle me like that. “There are many ways to protect one’s self. I simply chose one that involved less magic than money.” I sniffed, running a hand through my drying hair, fluffing it the way I’d seen some noblemen’s daughters do at the abbey.

After a long moment, he laughed, his fingers moving to put the gun back together as if independent of the rest of him, so accustomed to the motions they were. “Well said,” he chuckled, his lips curved in a smile that left me feeling flutters in my stomach. “And since that’s the case, I’ll let you take first watch tonight. The creatures here shouldn’t trouble us at this hour, but wake me if you need me.” He pulled the cover of his bedroll out from underneath him and wrapped himself in it, settling his head on the scant pillow.

I watched him fall asleep immediately, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, and I envied him all the while. Pulling off my armor piece by piece, I oiled it and worked it, watching the rain fall not two feet away from my face. And when it came time for his watch, he was awake instantly, as if he hadn’t been sleeping at all. “Your turn,” I said softly, moving to my bedroll and wrapping myself in the thin blankets. The wet air seeped through them, making me shiver.

“Sleep well, fireball,” Balthier said, and the next thing I knew, he’d thrown the covers of his bedroll over me as well, the warmth of his body and the smell of his skin protecting me from the crawling damp. It took forever for me to calm my racing heart enough to sleep.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #134: The Times That Bind!

April, 1975

Another amazing title.

And another cover image that is a DAMN ODIOUS LIE but I understand why at this point. We’re at a mini-arc of revelations which require flashbacks to properly contextualize the way Englehart wants. So its either have the Avengers bust through a wall and attack the Mad Thinker, definitely changing history in a flashback they weren’t even party to, or have a cover where the Avengers stand around and spectate stuff.

You could get meta with that though. Having the cover being the Avengers holding a comic and looking at its cover. Or maybe a throwback to older covers? With the provocative teasing of three different things that happens in the issue, perhaps with bubble with out of context images?

Look, the takeaway is that unfortunately, Thor does not smash the Mad Thinker at this time. But he definitely does it at some point so read every comic ever published for your weirdly specific fix.

Anyway, Team Thor Even Though This Is Mantis’ Origin Reveal continues to travel through time. Thor, Mantis, Iron Man, and Hawkeye. And an alien disguised as a stick.

Because this is a fairly dense story (but not the densest, oh my no, just wait until Avengers Forever), we are treated to a recap from Thor covering Kang War II, Immortus sending them on a journey through time to learn Mantis’ origin, and the advent of the Kree being the biggest dicks in space.

And the adventure continues.

The surprise attack from a Kree armada jolted the Skrulls out of mostly beneficial imperialism into the more asshole kind of imperialism. And over a thousand thousand worlds they battle the Kree, never with a clear-cut victor.

Which apparently leads both empires to grow stronger and prosper because as we all know, an endless war that saps resources and manpower is nothing but good for the economy. Although I guess when you have a thousand thousand worlds of resources to steal, it works out better.

Anyway, in the Kree year 476 (476 years after first contact), the blue Kree have apparently arisen and become the dominant power. Just go with it.

And from their position of power, they look down with contempt at any who oppose them. Especially the pacifist Kree.

Remember them? From the Star-Stalker story? They decried the power-hungry nature of the Kree and were not popular with their neighbors?

The Kree pacifists were driven underground by their militaristic brothers. And as is common to such victims of persecution, they developed martial arts to defend themselves with.

Because guns are hard to get and go against your pacifistic principles anyway.

But unlike some other persecuted, the Kree pacifists also decided to develop their minds in the decades that passed while they lived in the slums of the Kree Capital City (Kreeopolis? Moragton? Blue Area of Hala?).

And then one day, they were shocked when something insistently tried to telepathically contact them.

The pacifists felt compelled to come to a certain building in an abandoned section of the city. They worried that it was a ruse but couldn’t ignore the call.

And when they entered the abandoned structure they found... a broccoli garden! some surviving Cotati!

The Cotati explained that they are plants, duh, so don’t die in the same way that animal life does. Although fairly close enough.

When the Kree managed to kill every Cotati on Hala in one night with spears, the dying Cotati dropped their seed pods.

Some animals do a similar thing, actually, but because the Cotati were plants those seed pods were able to take root and grow into a new generation of Cotati.

While the Kree reverse-engineered the Skrullian ship, the new Cotati grew unnoticed and when they were old enough, they plucked themselves from the ground and moved toward more complete concealment.

They’ve been hiding ever since. And having determined that Locomotion Was a Mistake, they’ve evolved more toward immobility in exchange for even greater psychic powers.

And they always knew that some Kree would reject their culture’s militarism and move towards more peaceful truths. So when those pacifists arose and trained their minds, the Cotati reached out to them to propose an alliance.

The Cotati needed care they couldn’t provide for themselves because they could not move (suddenly locomotion doesn’t seem like such a sucker move, huh?) and in exchange, they would teach the pacifists their more advanced knowledge of the mind.

It was a great alliance. Kree and tree, together at last.

But the comic is tired of tree people for the time being. Time to check in on Vision.

You may remember that he was taken back in time to see the creation of the robot Human Torch.

And there he learned two possible causes for his claustrophobia episodes. But time has skipped ahead a little and now we are in 1949.

In between the Torch’s creation and 1949, he had gained a sidekick named Toro who also could set himself on fire. In 1949, they were at the height of their fighting crime with fire.

So criminals got desperate and obtained Solution X-R from Russia which doused the Torch and shirtless Toro and paralyzed them to boot. And then they buried the Torch in the Nevada desert, solving the problem forever.

Except not because they inadvertently buried him in a nuclear bomb testing range and a nuclear bomb test in 1953 freed him and cured his flame (as seen in Young Men #24 by probably no one reading this parenthetical).

But after only two more years of crime fightery, he had to bid Toro goodbye. Because even though that nuclear bomb freed him he also absorbed so much radiation that he was going to lose control of his fire and burn out.

So he went back to the Nevada desert where he Nova exploded.

And thus, Human Torch was dead forever.

But time for more space tree intrigue.

It has now been a century, during which the Kree pacifists developed their sentiment into a philosophy. A philosophy despised and ridiculed by their society. But a philosophy still feared apparently.

Oh, and they have become priests so get to live in a temple rather than a tenement. Didn’t figure the Kree to have freedom of religion...

And in their temple, a secret second cellar in which the Cotati were hidden.

But as I said, despite being despised and ridiculed, the pacifist priests were also apparently feared because a captain of the security and some soldiers attack the temple in plainclothes saying that they COMPLETELY NORMAL CITIZENS had enough rabble rousing from the priests.

The priests fight back with their pacifist martial arts and even though the COMPLETELY NORMAL CITIZENS have guns, the priests manage to survive the battle.

But at a cost. The Supreme Intelligence, the giant gross tentacle brain gestalt intelligence of all the mightiest minds of the Kree empire, decides to take this chance to exile them. While the priests were only defending themselves, its hard to prove who hit first when everyone hates you.

The priests bid the Cotati farewell. The Kree power structure is still unaware of their existence and the priests set up an irrigation system that will maintain the Cotati even without legged people around to care for them.

But the Cotati promise that they will find a way to aid the priests to pay the priests back for all the ways they helped the Cotati over the century or so.

So the priests get dumped on a barren prison planet. Taunted by the soldiers that dropped them off, they are in despair over what some immobile plants half a galaxy away can do for them.

Can you guess what?

If you guessed “summon a space dragon” then you, like Mantis, guessed correctly.

The Cotati subtly influenced the Star-Stalker’s mind to land on the prison planet.

This may seem like an odd form of helping but the Cotati are confident in their friends’ cleverness to find an answer, an answer that only they will have.

They were prepared to leak the answer to the pacifists if necessary but thought it better for them to find their own way. “No man wishes to feel himself a puppet, even in the hands of friends. Men may worship gods -- but they fear them as well.”

And realizing that their prison lacks vegetation, minerals, sunlight and heat, they deduce that the Star-Stalker is weak to heat.

AND BY PUNCHING THE GROUND IN UNISON (holy shit) they create a massive fissure that spews out molten lava.

Forcing the Star-Stalker to flee the planet. We all know that part. It eventually landed on Earth and was exploded by the Vision.

Meanwhile? (again, the Avengers are outside the timestream and/or in the past. Words are difficult), Moondragon’s spaceship lands on the roof of Avengers Mansion.

You may recall that she briefly visited the mansion during the Thanos War. Or you may not. The takeaway is that she’s familiar with the layout and also took the liberty of learning to turn off the alarm system psychically last time she visited because Moondragon is a bad guest.

She also notices the Celestial Madonna Star and realizes that she was right to follow the hunch to go visit the Avengers. And also apparently the star is not visible from space, only from ground level.

Celestial Madonnahood is weird.

Moondragon invites herself in because knocking is for other people and finds Jarvis. She tells the butler that she’s here in Captain Marvel’s stead to answer the radio summons that the Avengers have been broadcasting, although she admits to being vague about why she’s doing so.

Jarvis tries to contact the Avengers in Vietnam but gets no answer. Because they are all on an amazing time adventure.

He also admits that there’s been too much unexplained nonsense around the Avengers lately and wishes that Scarlet Witch would leave her room and help.

And you know that thing where someone is behind you right when you’re talking about them behind their back? Kind of an irony thing? You’re talking about them behind their back but secretly they are behind your back?

Yeah, Wanda just walked into the room as Jarvis said that.

And, uh. She is behaving oddly.

Moondragon recognizes that Wanda’s personality has changed from the time she briefly met her. She asks Wanda to come with her to Vietnam to search for the Avengers friends but Wanda says she only has one friend, Agatha Harkness, and she won’t leave her side until she learns all there is to know about the science of witchcraft.

So Moondragon decides to casually invade Wanda’s mind and see what’s going on in there. Because Moondragon.

Somehow, Wanda detects the mind-burst, dodges the mental energy, and strikes back using witchery to hit Moondragon with wood floor tiles and the window curtains.

And then she and Agatha walk off, Agatha saying that Wanda has nearly reached the goals she set for her.

So. Uh. Agatha Harkness, I thought you were cool. What have you been doing to Wanda behind closed doors?

She’s talking in weird speech bubbles and being mean to Jarvis. Oh and she attacked Moondragon but invading minds is hecka rude so. Lets call that even.

And now back to Vision Quest, no that’s not actually the title although I bet its the title to something involving Vision.

When last we joined him, the Human Torch exploded. And now its 1966.

The Human Torch (robot version) has been explode dead for eleven years. But then, the Mad Thinker finds his robot corpse, using math.

Mad Thinker: “The one I seek would have known he was dying. I can can calculate at what point he would know it... the lengths of his surprise, anger, sadness, resignation, planning, and leavetaking... his speed of flight, his desire to cause no harm! He will be... here!”

One day I want the Mad Thinker to be wrong not because of the human or Hercules factor. Just wrong about some variable. Just have his math slightly off. It would be funny to me and only me.

Anyway, Mad Thinker takes the Human Torch to his lab and discovers the secret of ANDROID RESURRECTION and he android resurrects the Human Torch.

And then events from Fantastic Four #4 happen.

Human Torch fights Human Torch. The Fantastic Four arrive to break up the fight. Quasimodo the living computer that just wants some legs kills the Human Torch (Golden Age variant). The Mad Thinker escapes. And Vision poetically soliloquizes over the whole thing.

And I have to address something so dumb that it actually got soft retconned in Avengers Forever (which I just read and retcons so many things).

So, the android Human Torch sacrificed himself to save the Fantastic Four from a sneak attack by Quasimodo. And then this happens.

Reed Richards: “Men may call him an android -- but he proved to be as human as any --!”

Ben Grimm: “Hey, Reed -- are we just gonna leave ‘im here? Shouldn’t he get a burial or somethin’, like a bona-fid-ee hero?”

Reed Richards: “‘Dust to dust’ doesn’t apply to him, old friend. He was born in a lab, so this is a more fitting final resting place.”

Fucks sake Reed.

‘This android was as human as any human WELP just gonna leave him here.’ Just goes right from acknowledging his humanity to leaving him like garbage because a robot doesn’t need a burial.

As I alluded, it was later retconned that Reed was influenced to leave the Human Torch’s corpse there but its equally valid that Reed is just that kind of callous asshole sometimes often.

And then later, Ultron-5 OH YEAHS into the chamber with a KRUMP! But more on that will have to wait for next issue.

Phew. Covering two big complicated origins at once takes a lot of panel space.

Okay. Back to space intrigue.

So the priests begged an audience with the Supreme Intelligence, now knowing of the Star-Stalker’s presence in the quadrant and his weakness.

The Supreme Intelligence thinks they’re making shit up. He’s a giant tentacled brain surrounded by kirby krackle. His knowledge is not inconsiderable!

Clearly, this is just a ruse so the Supreme Intelligence will have the priests brought back to Hala. Well, nuts to that.

Except the priests never asked to be brought back to Hala. Instead, they ask that they be allowed to spread through the inhabited worlds of the Kree galaxy to protect them. Two to every inhabited world. Like the Kree sentries but less explodey.

Upside: the Kree wouldn’t have to keep having supplies brought to prison planet.

The Supreme Intelligence is convinced. With one caveat. Four of the priests will remain on Hala just in case this obviously fake Star-Stalker thing turns out to be legit.

But what the priests didn’t mention is that a major side benefit of this plan is that they are able to sneak the Cotati off of Hala and spread them through all the worlds of the Kree galaxy.

And over time, the mutualism between the two only grows. The Cotati cannot psychically commune with any but the Kree. And have to rely on the priests to be able to move and deal with a chaotic universe with full effectiveness. While the priests rely on the Cotati’s more full understanding of that chaotic universe.

And the priests don’t tell other meat races about the Cotati and the Cotati never communicate with other plants. Which. Sure. Okay.

I’m sure the Flora Colossus from Planet X were real broken up about it.

Anyway. Yeah. Obviously, one of the planets that priests settled with their secret tree friends was Earth. And specifically what would be known as Vietnam, Earth.

Hawkeye idly wonders if the Priests of Pama were the ones that started the martial arts scene on Earth entirely but the Space-Phantom-disguised-as-a-stick dismisses that question as irrelevant to Mantis’ origin.

And its for the best that question was not answered, especially answered in the affirmative because holy shit saying aliens are responsible for things tends to be not great.

Because its usually stuff that non-white cultures accomplished like the pyramids. Which has a very patronizing tone to it. ‘Well those primitive cultures obviously couldn’t make this cool thing so obviously aliens.’

I expect that anywhere a sapient race has limbs of some sort, they’ll eventually develop better ways to hit people with those limbs. And perhaps, perhaps, the Priests of Pama learned from our Earth way of hitting things with limbs.

We shall never know because this was one Space Phantom too smart to wade into that mess.

Anyway, the flashback continues with priests Son-Dar and Teress deciding on a spot to build their temple and planting the Cotati in what will be the Eternal Garden.

“By the great Pama!” Mantis exclaims. Thats the very same garden where they buried Swordsman. That garden still exists!

Bingo.

Also, KZAP.

Because Team Thor Even Though Its Mantis’ Origin Reveal has been transported back to the present, back to the Temple of Pama. Back to the Eternal Garden where the Swordsman was buried.

And there they find Libra and the ghostly Swordsman. Who promises that now that Mantis has learned the history of the Kree, it is time for her to learn the final explanation. For today marks THE COMING OF THE CELESTIAL MADONNA.

Neat.

Also, we learn more stuff about Vision’s origin next time too.

Phew. I love space intrigue involving trees and dragons and giant tentacle brains as much as anyone... OR PERHAPS MORE. But I think maybe telling two complicated origins back to back was maybe too much. I’ll talk about it later but this whole chunk of the Celestial Madonna story is in full exposition mode.

[fulburnedance75-blog]

Ace Frehley will only perform on KISS' farewell tour if he can “take back” his Spaceman character

Any fans wanting to see Ace Frehley take part in KISS' upcoming farewell tour need to hope that his former bandmates will allow him to 'take back' his iconic 'Spaceman' character.

Iconic rockers KISS recently announced to the world they're gearing up to embark on their final world tour and wave goodbye to their fans for the last time.

Of course, many fans have been wondering what this final tour will include. Some, including Ace Frehley seem to be hoping it will be reminiscent of the band's tour in the mid-'90s, which saw the original KISS lineup reunite for a world tour.

While Ace Frehley recently joked he would take part in the farewell tour “for the right price”, the band's original guitarist has now stipulated he'd have to completely take over from Tommy Thayer if he was to appear.

Talking to Vintage Rock recently, Frehley spoke out in regards to his potential role in the upcoming tour.

“Getting involved with KISS on the road would take precedence over what I'm doing with my band. But the only way I would seriously consider it is if I took back my make-up and costume and my character - which I designed,” he explained.

“Tommy Thayer is not a bad guitar player, but he basically just mimics everything I wrote, and tries to imitate my persona. He's been doing it for 15 years. But the reality is I'm the original guy. And nobody can really copy the way I play guitar.”

Of course, while Ace Frehley did indeed invent his 'Spaceman'/'Space Ace' stage persona and makeup design, current guitarist Tommy Thayer has been occupying that role since 2002. However, Frehley noted that he's not exactly sure about the legality of Thayer's usage.

“My attorney told me that I licensed it to them,” he explained. “That's all I can say. They may deny it, but he told me, 'You didn't sell it to them.' But what are the ins and outs of the licensing deal, I'm not 100% sure of. I think I licensed it to them for perpetuity…does that mean forever, or something?”

Ace Frehley also expressed his desire for original drummer Peter Criss to take part in the farewell tour (even though Eric Singer has occupied his 'Catman' makeup design since 2004).

“I think it would be great if Peter was involved,” Frehley explained. “Obviously, at this point in his life, he wouldn't be able to do a two-hour show. But I can see if we worked out a situation where Peter came out at the end and did three or four songs - sang 'Beth', did 'Black Diamond', and a couple of others, I think that would be fun.”

As we've noted before though, there definitely doesn't appear to be any bad blood between the members, with Frehley joining Gene Simmons on his recent tour to Australia. So at this stage, it seems like we might just need to sit back and wait and see if KISS' farewell tour will be doubling as a reunion tour as well.

Check out KISS' 'Beth':

[adinosaurtale]

enough is enough

one great week since day 1 of healing - not perfect, but certainly a step in the right direction. 

yesterday, though, was a bad day. triggered by having to say a final goodbye for my own sanity, yet my heart cried and cringed to have to say those words to you. then i spiraled again - questions of why everything happened the way they did, why you allowed it to happen, why i allowed it to happen, what in the world is going on now and why won’t you even give me what you know i would appreciate and probably also closure for yourself. fueling and giving space to thoughts and feelings around being abandoned, and wondering how could someone who said that he loved and cared for me so deeply, do so many things wrong by me and by us? and all the thoughts of jealousy of why she gets all your effort and i get absolutely nothing. literally, absolutely nothing. 

but today was different from yesterday. perhaps while there was a lot of sadness and heart-resistance to what i had done, it also signaled a proper final farewell. it is, afterall, november and more likely than not you’re going to be walking down the aisle in just a little over 2 weeks. and somehow, something in me let go yesterday. 

perhaps it’s also feeling immensely grateful and thankful, realising that God has been in this all this while. having left in august, i can’t imagine if i still had to see your face every single day - if i’m already having so much trouble dealing with the pain when i may never have to see you again, how would it be if i had to face you every day in the same corridor for all the days where we have been reduced to nothing, leading up to your big day, and thereafter after you’ve said “i do”? i am sooo grateful that He had gone before me to prepare a way such that I don’t have to suffer endless torment while at a job that i adore. and even though He had given me the peace to end things at multiple points in time, I was stubborn and did not manage to go through with them properly - but still He knew when I needed a definite exit, and a way to get physically away from everything. 

do i wonder if it is deliberate and intentional that you always avoid any response to my goodbye forevers? could that possibly reflect what’s going on in your life? i dont know, but i’m killing myself with that thought. the anxiety is paralysing - if i am right and you come back, what would i do? how am i suppose to react? how to be your friend and not fall back to what we were before? i don’t want to ever be triggered of what has happened, but is that possible, can my head win my heart? i don’t know! but i need to stop killing myself over this and to trust in Jesus. I can’t keep paralysing myself over the smallest possibility that this might happen - it may or may not, and even if it does, i don’t know when - then what? i keep waiting? i keep preparing? it’s driving me crazy! i need to let this possibility go, and if you ever, ever surface again, then we’ll deal with it from there. 

so why then, do I keep tormenting myself over and over again by allowing my thoughts to wander to things that hurt me? there will always be things i don’t understand, whether answers can be provided, or more a philosophical/conceptual muse of WHY things are the way they are, but if I keep playing it over my head, I am constantly re-hurting myself over and over again. it is just really straightforward - if i’m being objective, we had a very special connection, all sorts of connection, but you almost never did right by me. you didn’t let me go, you didn’t put a stop to things, you didn’t protect me, you attacked me when you were in pain, and even after things ended you still have not given me the only thing i have requested for that would give me something sweet to take with me through life. and now that i am in a stronger and better place, i owe it to myself to stop thinking about you and push all that has happened to the past. yes, i will have questions unanswered, unresolved pain and anger, but that is life. i need to accept that and not give it more attention than is required otherwise i will never, ever, move past this. 

so it’s time to move on. it’s time for the dinosaur to die. and it’s time to stop, for goodness sakes stop tormenting myself when i can leave it all behind and start afresh.