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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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The Flames That Burn The Brightest

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans (Fab Five), Arrowfam

Summary: Donna Troy is working as a teacher at a high school, and to her surprise, she comes face-to-face with an old flame who just so happens to be the new guidance counselor.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Donna Troy, Roy Harper, Jade Nguyen, Lian Harper, Garth of Shayeris, Dick Grayson, Wally West

Relationship(s): Past DonnaRoy, Past CheshRoy

Additional Tags: Teachers AU, No Powers AU, Donna Troy-centric, Platonic Soulmates Dick & Donna, Parent Roy Harper, Lovers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Fluff, Reunions

Chapter Three: First Day of School (Donna's POV)

I started my day an hour earlier. Waking up before the sun gave me time to think. Introduce myself to my students, reviewing the roster, and my lesson plans for the first week. It was all I could think about. High school. I was in my late twenties, struggling to redefine myself, and Garth mentioned something about a shortage of instructors at his school. He made the kids sound so sugary-sweet. I told him to count me in before I had time to think. But I’ve done nothing but think about it since then. I used to photograph models for a living. Teaching teenagers wouldn’t be anything like that.

I fed Figaro dry cat food and a little bit of raw salmon before I made my breakfast. He looked up at me with his big gold eyes, probably confused about our early breakfast time. “Eat up, Figgy. Today’s a special day,” I whispered. I tried to hope for the best, but I was frightened.

He rubbed his cheek against my ankle. It’d been the two of us for a while. The tea kettle whistled, and I poured the hot water over my silicone tea bag. I made the blend the night before—hibiscus and orange with tiny tinges of green tea. I didn’t take sugar in my tea. I used a spoonful of honey and a drop of lemon. I twirled my tea with a spoon before taking it to my bedroom. I lay my outfit out on the bed before taking my towel and caddy to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and showered. My morning routine was strict. I did everything in the same order for over a decade. Make my tea piping hot, brush my teeth, shower, moisturize my face, check my emails, curl my hair, get dressed, and do my stretches while I watch one of my VHS tapes. I watched the same ten movies on VHS in my living room. Dick hates it. This morning, it was the 1996 Romeo and Juliet . I rarely watched the whole movie in one sitting, but this morning I had extra time.

A fitting choice, because I’d be teaching first and fifth-period freshman English classes. My main subject was Photography. Garth said the principal would let me structure the class however I wanted to. My alarm went off shortly after the credits rolled, and I grabbed my bag, camera, and keys. It was a fifteen-minute drive across town, and it took every second of those fifteen minutes to prepare myself for the walk to the front office. Garth was on the phone when I arrived, so I checked my mailbox and headed to my classroom. I spent the better half of two months decorating it and rearranging my seating charts, so I was proud to see my vision perfectly actualized. I placed a syllabus on every desk along with an icebreaker worksheet. Garth stopped by and knocked on my door. “Hey, Donna. I had a little something for your first day. It looks great in here by the way,” Garth smiled as he hugged me and set a little box on my desk.

“Can I?” I asked. Garth nodded excitedly as I opened my gift. It was a little blue walkie-talkie that hung from a lanyard. It was a lot like the one I had when we were kids. “Oh, Garth, you’re too much.” I laughed as I put it around my neck.

“Just a reminder that you’re among friends,” Garth smiled, “It works. Oh, and—.” He plugged in the charger and set it on my desk. “I almost forgot to give it to you.”

“And look… Here’s the best part. You can change the settings depending on the range you wanna reach,” Garth explained as he showed me on his walkie-talkie. “Have you seen Roy yet?”

Roy? Garth never said anything about Roy being there. Not once. “You didn’t say Roy would be here,” I whispered.

“I didn’t? Do you guys have a problem with—?”

“No, I just—. I had no idea he worked here. Did you mention it to him at least?” I questioned. I loved Garth. Don’t get me wrong, but… How could he glaze over something like that?

“Um… No… I meant to, but we had summer tryouts for sports and conditioning… He’ll be here late today. Are you guys gonna be okay working together?” Garth asked.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, we work—. We’ll work great together,” I stammered. Garth nodded.

“Dee wants to have you for dinner this weekend if that’s okay,”

I nodded and smiled. “I’d love that,” I answered.

Garth left me to set up. The first bell rang half an hour later. A few freshmen poured in, instinctively looking at the board for the seating chart. “Good morning, I’m Ms. Troy… And like most of you, this is my first day here,” I smiled, “Welcome to English 9.”

One of the boys in the front started poring over the first few pages of the syllabus. I nodded. “Ms. Troy, what is your policy on food in the classroom? It doesn’t say anything about it in the syllabus.”

“It’s first period, so I’m sure some of you missed breakfast. Don’t make a mess and there won’t be any issue… Oh, and no nuts,” I answered, “Great question, Luca. That being said… Do you guys want to do the syllabus first or the icebreaker? Show of hands. Everyone who wants to get the syllabus out of the way raise your hand.”

I had an alright group of kids for the first class. The kids seemed like they were half-asleep, but they did their best to participate. “Okay… Icebreaker it is! Feel free to walk around—.”

One of the girls came up to me and asked me if I had a pet. It was one of the questions on the worksheet. “Yeah, his name is Figaro,” I answered. She smiled and nodded as she wrote ‘Ms. Troy’ on her worksheet.

The icebreaker perked them up while I set up the slideshow for the syllabus. “Pass them up and return to your desks,” I gently commanded. After we settled, I explained the classroom rules, and we wrote a journal based on a prompt. Some of the kids read theirs aloud. One of the girls wrote a compelling short story about a bird that people-watched. It was a solemn tale of loneliness and miscommunication. It was a beautiful start to my teaching career.

The dismissal bell rang, and I let them leave. During that time, I immediately set up the next class’s syllabi and seating chart. Photography . My wheelhouse. I looked through my photographs and smiled when I came across a photo of Garth, Roy, Wally, and Dick when we were kids. A candid picture of their happy faces from a simpler time. I had several copies of that photograph. It was one of my favorites. The guys had the same picture. We’d been through so much together. A few of my students poured in. All different ages and one of them entered holding a teddy bear. I quietly sat in the seat in front of them and tapped their desk. “Hi, I’m Ms. Troy… You must be, Adrian. How are you today?” I whispered. They nodded.

“D—? Do I have to put him away?” they whispered. I shook my head.

“I’m nervous today, too… The icebreaker isn’t graded. It’s just something you can do if you’re comfortable. It’s not for everyone,” I reassured them. They handed me a note.

“I’m a boy… My dad’s still getting used to it, so he calls me a she a few times… But—.”

I looked at him and nodded. “Understood… Should I read it now?” I questioned.

“Mhm,” Adrian whispered. I smiled and nodded.

“I’ll give you some space while I read your father’s note at my desk. Is that alright?” I asked. Adrian nodded.

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bmaxwell · 2 years

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Top 10 Games of 2022

2022 was a hell of a good year for games. I had a hard time whittling my list down to just 10 games. It was a particularly good year for strategy RPG’s and wordy-talky games. Much to my surprise, I spent more time on my Nintendo Switch this year than anything, mostly thanks to finally taking the plunge on Xenoblade Chronicles.

Xbox Game Pass continues to be a great value, and I played several games on it I would have otherwise missed. Many people bemoan the lack of AAA first party releases on Game Pass (which is fair), but that’s not me. Signalis, Power Wash Simulator, Citizen Sleeper, Beacon Pines, Shredder’s Revenge, and NORCO were all Game Pass titles for me. I can’t complain.

On the flip side, I’ve become more wary of Early Access gaming - mostly because I tend to play a lot in early access, then when the game reaches its 1.0 release I sometimes have a “Been there, done that” feeling toward it.

It was also a very down year for PlayStation. I played The Quarry there, and Valkyrie Elysium. I know Final Fantasy XVI and Final Fantasy 7 Reunited or Rehydrated or whatever the second one is called - I know those games are coming. For now though, it’s a little bare. Their reworking of PlayStation Plus ended up confusing and underwhelming as well. Better times are ahead.

On to the games!

10. NORCO

Norco tells the story of a young woman returning to her hometown of Norco, Louisiana after her mother’s death. It’s a pixel art, point and click adventure game about...well at its heart it is about solving a mystery, but it’s about a lot of things. It’s about terminal illness. It’s about capitalism and the communities of people who fall through the cracks. It’s about strange lights in the Louisiana bayou, prophets, and powerful otherworldly beings. It’s about family trauma and forgiveness. It’s about eating a bad hotdog and desperately shitting inside a limousine.

Norco is bizarre, clever, touching, funny, desperate, and brilliant. And greater than the sum of its parts.

9. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

This game was a long shot for me. I don’t like the look of it at all, the cardplay is too simple to be of interest, and it’s a story about living in space. I don’t remember who recommended it to me, but I’m glad they did because the writing is wonderful. You play as a child in a colony on a newly settled planet, with the story taking place from the ages of 10-20 years old. You pass time by doing activities such as attending classes, helping out in the daycare area, working in the geoponics center, training for the defense force, or working as a lookout.

These will often have associated events that are resolved with a simple card game, and major life events grant you more cards. In my first play, my character was great with biology and animal knowledge, and fell in love with the girl working in the biology lab. Long story very short, I ended up inadvertently playing a role in the development and deployment of fungal contagion that wiped out most life on the planet. Whoopsie.

A second playthrough gives you some chances to intervene on events you remember from the first game, a la Groundhog Day. The writing is smart and thoughtful, and the game has stayed with me in the weeks since completing it.

8. The Quarry

A few years back my wife, firstborn child, and I enjoy playing “Choices Matter” games together. We’ve gone through Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange: True Colors, and Little Hope as couch coop experiences. We started Until Dawn a few years ago, but it was a little too much “horny teens” for firstborn to play with his parents at the time. Now he’s older and that stuff is a lot less awkward for us, so when The Quarry came around, I picked it up.

And we had a freaking blast with it. We were responsible for a few characters each. The story revolves around a group of camp counselors staying over for one last night after the kids are gone at the end of summer. Bad shit starts happening of course, and you’re left to figure out what exactly is happening and why, and what to do about it. Oh, and also don’t die. It’s a fail forward game (which I love) so when something bad happens, the story keeps going rather than presenting you with a Game Over screen.

The story is good campy fun, the mystery was satisfying, and voicework and visuals are great. Seeing how the other players respond to situations is always fun. We were doing great until the last chapter where we lost a few of our campers, but we still found the wrap-up satisfying.

7. Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope

2017′s Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle was a near miss, but full of promise. Sparks of Hope delivers on that promise, building on the previous game in meaningful ways. The word I keep coming back to with Sparks of Hope is Freedom. You have a team of Marios and Rabbids, but they all level up at the same rate so there’s no worry about your least favorite characters falling behind. As you gain levels you can assign points in unlocking and powering up new abilities. Those points can be refunded and redistributed without penalty. You discover little Rabbid star people called Sparks along the way, and each character in your team can be assigned two of these - they grant elemental powers, extra dash attacks, invisibility, and lots of other stuff. This gives your characters strong customizability in ways that felt game-breaking at times, but was fun as hell.

My Rabbid Mario was an unholy terror who could lure enemies to him and wipe most of them out in a single strong attack. He was also the best character in the game, thanks to voice acting that made me laugh a few times. Rabbid Rosalina with her strong disinterest in everything happening around her was fun too. In fact, the Rabbid characters generally felt more interesting and entertaining than the Mario ones. Except for Edge. Edge is basically “What if Cloud Strife was a Rabbid?” - just unlikable and lame as hell. Were the devs in on the joke or am I supposed to think she’s cool? I’m still not sure.

Going back to freedom in the design, the combat got a major overhaul from the first game too - specifically, your characters can move anywhere within their range as much as they want until they’ve taken their 2 actions. You can also freely swap between your characters until your turn is over. This lets you cook up strategies and change your mind on the fly if something isn’t going to work out. This means there are always several ways to attack a given situation, and the way things play out is often dumb and great. Huge chain reactions of explosions taking out bunches of baddies, or popping enemies up in the air so Mario and Luigi can snipe them were some of the favorite moments in the game. I couldn’t ask for anything better out of a game with Rabbids in it.

6. Tactics Ogre Reborn

Final Fantasy Tactics is one of my favorite games ever made. I’ve never played its predecessor Tactics Ogre in any form though. Reborn is an update of the 2010 PSP title Tactics Ogre Let Us Cling Together, which itself is an update of the original Tactics Ogre game from 1995. As a fan of FFT, I can immediately see the lineage with that game. The tone and music feel immediately familiar, as do the themes of war and the common folk caught in it. Reborn deals in shades of grey more than FFT does, and I frequently found myself pitted against people who did not feel villainous.

Also unlike FFT, there are some story choices to be made in Tactic Ogre Reborn, and these choices will affect major parts of the narrative. The game’s design does show its age (being nearly 30 years old at this point). For example, I hope you like navigating menus and checking everyone’s equipment and abilities. A lot. Like, a LOT. The whole thing crumbles if the battle doesn’t hold, and thankfully it still feels great. The difficulty hit a sweet spot for me where I often found myself just scraping by, pulling out a win after it felt like hope was lost.

I found myself doing Just One More Battle several times with this game, a testament to how fun the combat is. I miss the deep class customization of FFT, but my roster here was varied enough that it never bothered me. As I’ve been working on this list, every time I see Tactics Ogre Reborn at number 6, my gut reaction is “What? That’s too fucking low!” then I stare at the games above it and think “Yeah no, it’s six. I’ll be damned.” I have no doubt that if I’d played this game in its day in the late nineties, it would be one of my favorite games ever made.

Six is too low.

5. Citizen Sleeper

Sometimes, a game is appealing to me but asks me to put some effort into learning it. Depending on the game and my headspace that day, I might just say “fuck it” and put it down. I almost did that with Citizen Sleeper. The gameplay is, at its core, an action drafting game where dice determine your available options. In my boardgaming days, I’d be all about it. I didn’t sign up for that though, this was a videogame that was asking me to learn this system before being really bought into any of it.

But I’m a big brave dog, so I pushed through and learned it (it’s really not so bad). My reward was a special game, one that will stay with me for a very long time. Citizen Sleeper places you in the role of an android, a synthetic life form whose consciousness was copied from a human. A corporation pays the human for this, they get a worker (you), and the human gets a sum of money. You are property, a thing with no rights of any kind. If you try to run, you’ll soon cease to function without regular injections of a drug (produced only by the corporation who owns you).

In Citizen Sleeper you are an escapee, a stowaway trying to figure out how to survive on a space station. You need shelter, you need work, you need your injections, and there’s a bounty on your head. As your health deteriorates, you have fewer dice available to you (and thus can perform fewer tasks in a given day). If your dice rolls are lower, you may not be able to perform some tasks very well (low rolls aren’t always bad though). The mechanical parts of the game are there to service the story and writing, which are fantastic

The game mirrors being an outcast with a chronic illness very, very well. You need your meds to survive, so you need to earn money but some days it’s very difficult or impossible to make that happen. Some folks might help, some might not care, some may try to take advantage of you. Without going into too much detail, the game world offered hope in the form of community (in my playthrough anyway). When the systems in place fail us, we must rely on each other.

I fully plan on playing the game again after they’re done updating it. Citizen Sleeper was another game from this year that is going to stay with me.

4. Triangle Strategy

I’ve played a LOT of strategy RPG’s since Final Fantasy Tactics, always chasing the dragon. Not many scratch that itch but, despite the stupid name, Triangle Strategy is the best SRPG I’ve played since FFT. My only real complaint with the game is how slowly it starts. They really front load the first couple of hours with exposition dumps, doling out a story of a war torn nation and kingdoms competing for resources before you’re invested in anything. I can’t blame anyone who bounces off early. And initially I was disappointed by the lack of deep customization options with your characters.

But the more I played, the less that bothered me. My characters felt distinct from one another, and even the oddball classes were genuinely useful - something I can’t say for FFT. By the end, my A-team had a juggler, a builder, and mathematician on it. The combat here is tight, and the difficulty once again hit a sweet spot for me. I could get through most combats on the first try, and the game gives XP in losses so it always felt like some progress was made even in defeat. I enjoyed the combat enough that I did all of the optional training battles.

The more I played the game, the more I got invested in the story. The game gives you these decision points where you talk to your team and decide how best to proceed. You can try to sway people one way or the other, but you need to have talked to some people between battles and be able to make a convincing argument. The game tracks morality and other metrics in the background, and some characters will only be recruitable under certain conditions. There are multiple endings as well, and this is another game I plan on playing through again to see what I’ve missed (though my canonical ending is #TeamFrederica).

3. Marvel’s Midnight Suns

Well, I didn’t count on this. I wasn’t sold on the game until I heard an interview with developer Jake Solomon. I’m not especially a fan of comics or superheroes, but I loved his passion for the source material. And I’m a strategy RPG guy (though XCOM has always been a miss for me). A couple of weeks ago I was seriously considering this for my game of the year and pondering my own possible recency bias.

Midnight Suns is not my game of the year, but goddammit I was absolutely hooked on this game from start to finish in the “I wonder if I can squeeze a mission in before I have to leave for work” way. The best comparison I have for this game’s design is Fire Emblem Three Houses. That is, you go out on missions that are decided by turn-based combat, then you come back to your home base where you run around talking to your teammates, building relationships and doing some light crafting and collecting. I enjoyed it here enough that it made me retroactively like Three Houses a little less.

It has the Hades “problem” where I love both the combat and the exploration/talky bits so much that there’s no natural stopping point for me. I’m excited to do the next mission and, when that’s done, I’m excited to explore the abbey and talk to people and do my upgrades. It’s another “I was going to take a break 3 hours ago” game for me. And as someone with no real knowledge or expectation of these superheroes, I enjoyed the writing and ended up liking all of them in their own way by the end. Even the protagonist - a wholly new superhero made for the game - felt like more than just a blank slate. Each hero feels distinct in battle, with just enough customization to tweak their playstyles to your liking, but not so much that it’s overwhelming.

They struck a great balance with the game. For the second year in a row a Marvel game is one of the very best releases of the year. You win, universe.

2. Xenoblade Chronicles 3

More than anything, 2022 was the year of Xenoblade Chronicles for me. I played the first one for the first time and loved it, immediately bought the second and loved it more, and bought Xenoblade Chronicles 3 at release. It somehow managed to be even better than its predecessors, and one of the best games I've ever played.

It does the best version of the things I want from a JRPG. The combat system is complex and satisfying. There’s a class system where you’re unlocking new classes and swapping between them as you wish. The story is heartfelt and serious, but not afraid to lighten things up in the downtime. You get a ragtag cast of characters who start off as enemies and over time grow to tolerate each other and eventually form unbreakable bonds. They band together to overcome impossible odds with the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP.

Each member of the team has to deal with their own personal baggage and trauma, and each grows as a character over the course of the story. The world is oppressive and heavy, and I fell in love with my misfit crew by the end of the Xenoblade Chronicles 3′s ~100 hour runtime. The ending lived up to the rest of the game (which does not always happen). Also, Sena is best girl and additionally she is the girl with the gall.

1. Elden Ring

What can I say about Elden Ring?

Despite many attempts, it’s the first FromSoft Game that landed for me. The easiest thing I can point to is the open world design of the game. Where previous soulsborne games would funnel the player into a handful of narrow paths, Elden Ring’s world is VAST. Seriously. It inspired a sense of awe in me that I don’t often feel. I knew the game world was big, but it just kept going. Going underground and learning that there’s a whole additional map was jaw-dropping for me.

FromSoft somehow managed to make the world feel massive and vast, but still chock full of secrets that feel organic and satisfying. Several times during my playthrough, I’d see something cool off in the distance and think “Oh, I’ll pop over there and check that out!” only to find that the cool thing was a LOT further away than I initially thought. I’ve played games where it feels like the developers sprinkled a handful of icons over the map in the name of padding out the game’s play time (looking at you, Ubisoft). That’s not the case here. There is weird, cool shit to find everywhere, and it never feels cluttered or forced. Even when the reward was a piece of gear that my character was unable to use, I never felt like my time was wasted.

While the graphical fidelity might not be on the level of games like Horizon Forbidden West, the art design is breathtaking. So much of Elden Ring inspires curiosity and exploration; I went deep underground and there’s a starry sky down there!? The world’s towering golden trees act as beacons in the game’s otherwise harrowing, crumbling world. There is a melancholy beauty to this game that really struck a chord with me.

The game’s combat is fantastic as expected, and the ability to fuck off to somewhere else whenever I was frustrated with a boss or a location is what allowed a schlub like me to enjoy and finish the game. For a couple of months my buddies and I were consumed by Elden Ring, swapping screenshots and stories and lore findings. It feels like the game of the generation to me and, as great as many other releases were this year, I just couldn’t not name Elden Ring my game of the year.

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tosin-talks · 1 month

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Tosin Talks about the neverending game

It’s been a long time and a lot has happened within that time frame that’s taken a lot of my attention. There’ve been significant new developments in my personal life. There have also been fun things going on in my professional life. I began my practical experience as a student counselor in February. Being a counselor has surprisingly been the most comfortable role to shift into as well as one of the most meaningful roles. I’m immensely grateful to be entrusted with such an important job and thankful to those who have shared a piece of themselves or their story with me.

I have just 5% of my master’s degree to complete! When I began the program two years ago, I wholeheartedly thought that it would take me forever to finish and there were days that I really wanted to drop out…and by that, I mean every single day! I received a passing score on the exit exam on my first try so that was a relief! I’ve been consistently receiving good grades these past few semesters.

Another super cool thing that I did since my last Tosin Talk was publish a children’s book! I wrote a children’s book called Tiny Tim that talks about navigating big feelings and creating positive narratives about your emotions and experiences. It’s being sold on the Barnes & Noble website and on Amazon. It’s still surreal to say that I have a children’s book published on websites and storefronts that I frequent…it feels even more of a dream to know that people are actually reading and enjoying it! It’s so rewarding as a creative when your work gets noticed. The book was initially a class project and with some encouragement from my professor and colleagues and collaboration with a brilliant illustrator, I published a book!

Anyway…what’s next?

That’s genuinely how quick I move on from my accomplishments sometimes. I don’t sit in my success for long enough, I even make myself feel bad for not having a seemingly bigger accomplishment. I remember sobbing when I won a silver medal at an international science fair because I diminished its importance and only focused on how I could’ve done better.

The week after I released Tiny Tim was spent self-loathing. I was so hypercritical of the work that I put out into the world. I was beating myself up for not making it “perfect” despite not really knowing what the perfect children’s book was. I imagined the faces of people I loved and admired, reading my book and saying all the mean things that my mind made up to make the thoughts seem more true. I was fearful of letting people down because it wasn’t as amazing as some of you made it out to be. I didn’t believe that I was deserving of the praise and excitement that I received. And as a result, I discredited my work and told myself to do better.

Something I noticed and others pointed out is that I’m constantly moving the goal post. As soon as I score one phenomenal goal, I’m on to a new strategy to earn another goal. I didn’t take a second to do a dance, wave to the crowd, or anything. Doing this creates the belief that nothing I do is ever enough. It’s a bad habit that I think I picked up from my culture and the way I was raised. It’s almost endearing to keep playing this game with myself because it means that excellence is my standard and I know that I can achieve it. On the other hand, it’s so unnecessarily exhausting and honestly unproductive to live this way. What good is it truly doing for me to tell myself that I wrote a “bad” story and no achievement is ever “good enough”? Am I really motivating myself to work harder or am I just making myself more susceptible to burnout?

I’m extremely grateful and lucky to have received validation and praise from many others these past few months, it makes my accomplishments feel more real. However, I’m trying to remember that this is a real milestone and achievement, whether or not others say so. I did a really cool thing and I’ve done really cool things in the past as well!

I don’t need the validation to make that true and no amount of criticism will ever make that untrue. At the end of the game, the most meaningful goal is making my younger self proud of who I am today. Another goal that’s important to me is helping at least one person with my words and actions. I don’t need to move those goal posts dramatically because I think I score those goals everyday.

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asterlark · 3 years

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ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

#check please #omgcp #samwell college of music au #mine #my writing #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #omgcp fic #check please fic #zimbits #uhh idk what else to tag #this fucking thing is like 4.1k words i'm-#i hope you enjoy it (and reblog it!) bc i've been working on this for literal years #i know i'll never actually write it as a longform fic so here's a bullet pt fic instead #pls let me know your thoughts i have so many things to say about this au

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youngbugandtonystank · 4 years

Note

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability.

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated.

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that.

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far.

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her.

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example.

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death.

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria.

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this?

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming).

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better.

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them.

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd.

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions.

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #vision #tony stark #avengers #marvel #mcu #this is the only ask I'm answering about this #exhausting

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Unexpected

Warnings: Based on two episodes with my twist. Just case talks, the squad actually not being friendly, hurt reader and fluff

I wrote this SO long ago, second guessed putting it up, but its time it saw the light.

WC: 2226

Enjoy x

“I told you not to put her on the stand. All you guys do is treat me like I don’t know what I’ am doing. I handed you all a solid case that didn’t involve her and you have blown it”

“You’re out of line Detective” Rafael spat back to you.

“No, you’re out of line Counselor, you know it all”

“You need to calm down Y/N” Liv said firmly with a slightly raised voice.

“I’ve had enough of this crap I should have stayed in Brooklyn, at least they listened and wanted me there”

You stormed out of Rafael’s’ office slamming his glass door behind you making the whole wall shake.

“Is she always this emotional?” Rafael frowned at Liv

“Well, No. She is right Rafa, about everything” He rolled his eyes at Liv.

“Who’s the ADA here?”

“You, but she is right”

You had been at Manhattan SVU for 4 months after transferring from Brooklyn SVU. You and Sonny were old friends. You had finished the academy together, and then finally crossed paths again in Brooklyn. You actually wished you had stayed there. Back in Brooklyn you were one of them, you got along with the ADA, and everyone was close friends. Sonny had recommend you to Liv after you cracked a big string of rapes and she wanted to meet you. Liv offered you the position and you stupidly took it, thinking that you would have been welcomed with open arms, how wrong you were.

From the moment you walked in you felt like an outsider, even Sonny was different with you, even though he was your partner. He never backed you up on anything, you were always wrong. They treated you like you didn’t belong there and never took on board anything you had to say. Even if they asked you for after work drinks, you were left out and would leave early. It got to the point that you dreaded walking into the bullpen every morning. Rafael was the worst of all, he treated you like you were invisible, which you hated because you had feelings for him from the moment you laid eyes on him.

A huge case had come in. A women had accused an Olympian, and once it was made public 2 other women came forward. You had a funny feeling about the 3rd women that came forward, all she had was the story, nothing else to back it up. The first two victims had doctor’s reports and had told someone as soon as it happened. You had worked hard on your own to make a new case file with just two victims who had all the evidence from their attack and gave it to Rafael one day when he was in the squad room before the trial started.

“She is lying”

“You don’t know that” Sonny said back to you.

“Barba don’t put her on the stand, I have given you everything with just the other two victims, it's bullet proof.”

“Why Deactivate? Because you have a feeling?” he smirked at you “Three victims have come forward, three victims will be put on the stand”

“You’re making a big mistake”

“How about you let me do my job. We don’t go off feeling here, we go off evidence”

“Yeah and she has none” you snapped back.

Rafael ended up putting her on the stand and the defence ripped her to pieces. She confessed that she was paid by another Olympian to say she was attacked by the other just to get him out of the running for the Olympics, which ended in the case being a mistrial and he got away with the other two attacks.

Rafael had felt bad after Liv walked out of his office. He had put the case file you had made him in his draw the day you gave it to him, not even bothering to take on board what you said. Rafael pulled it out and had a look, you had been right. You had given him a bullet proof case which would have guaranteed the attacker would have been put away.

You were a good Detective and very beautiful, but you never looked happy, you were always stand offish and never got involved with them. Everything fell into place in his mind. Everyone did treat you like you didn’t know anything and they never included you. He thought back to how he treated you and regret filled him. From the first day he meet you and you smiled at him, his tummy filled with butterflies. But he didn’t want to get hurt, so he did what he did best and closed himself off to you, clearly doing a lot of damage.

You sat in Forlini’s on your 2nd double vodka soda. Everything was running through your head, you were so angry it was making you cry. After everything that had happen, you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened your emails and sent one to Liv asking for a personal week next week, and then emailed your old Lieutenant asking to have a meeting with him when he was free.

You couldn’t do it anymore. It was all too much. These last 4 months had been horrible. Your old Lieutenant didn’t want you to leave in the first place, but had told you there was a position for you whenever you wanted to come back. You hit send when you felt someone sit next to you. You looked over and it was Sonny.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Why do you care?”

“Come on Y/N, why are you acting like this?”

“You’re really asking me that question?” You frowned at Sonny.

“What do you mean?”

“From the moment I walked in, all you guys have done is make me feel unwelcome. You’re my partner and you don’t even back me up. I hate it here, I wish I never made the transfer. We were friends before here, you’re so different. I don’t know you anymore”

“I didn’t mean-Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Sonny had a sad look on his face.

“And what’s the point in that? You would just laugh it off and go back to ignoring me with the rest of them”

“I’ am sorry”

“Bit late for that. Just go”

Sonny looked at you, got down off his bar stool and walked away.

A couple hours later you were on your 5th drink, it was getting dark out. You could feel the alcohol making your head swim. But you felt numb which is what you wanted.

“How many of them have you had?”

“What’s it to you?” You didn’t even look up to see who it was.

“How many have you had Detective?” Rafael was standing next to you frowning when you finally looked up.

“Why does everyone seem to care all of a sudden?”

“Excuse me” Rafael sat down on the chair next you and ordered some water and fries.

“What do you want Counselor?”

“Look, I should have listened to you. You were-you were right”

You looked up at him through glassy eyes.

“Doesn’t matter now anyway, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ am going to transfer back. Well hopefully I can. I mean I want to. I have a meeting next week. I hope the boss says yes” you skulled down the last of your drink.

“Why do you want to leave?” he all of a sudden filled with sadness.

“You’re as dumb as Sonny if you don’t know the answer to that question” He frowned to you “All you guys have done since I started here is leave me out and treat me like I don’t know my stuff. And you are worst of all, you treat me like I’ am invisible”

“No I d-”

“Yes you do. I can’t believe I ever had feelings for someone like you”

Rafael sat there and watched you, not sure if it was just the alcohol talking or if you really meant what you said. You felt uncomfortable him starring at you so you started to get down off the bar stool.

----

“Do you always let your girlfriend drink this much on a Friday night?” the Doctor gave Rafael a funny look.

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s a co-worker”

“With the amount of alcohol in her system and the knock to the head. We will be keeping her in for tonight. She needs her concussion monitored. Maybe you should take better care of your co-worker while drinking.” The Doctor gave him a dirty look.

You woke up to a dark room and a crashing head ache. You let your eyes adjust and a figure caught your attention. You turned your head and Rafael was sitting there with a hospital blanket over him. You tried to adjust yourself, but you made so much noise, it woke him up.

“Sorry I woke you” you muttered.

“It’s ok” he rubbed his face “I’ am glad you’re awake” he gave you a soft smile.

“What happened?”

“You fell and hit your head on the bar. You have a concession”

“Explains the head ache” he laughed at you “Thanks for staying, but you can go now”

“No it’s ok, I’ am happy to stay”

You laid back down looking up at the ceiling.

“Did you mean what you said?” Rafael asked softly.

“Which part?” you sighed back.

“All of it”

“Yeah. I have next week off and I’ am going to talk to my old Lieutenant when he tells me what day I can” tears were filling your eyes.

“OK. But I’ am not just talking about that”

You took a deep breath and let out a small sigh.

“Why does it matter now anyway” You spat back at him sitting up in bed. Rafael walked over and sat on the edge grabbing your hand in his.

“Because I would like to know. Please”

You pulled your hand out of his,

“Of course I meant it. I just needed 5 drinks to finally say something. But like I said it doesn’t matter now”

“Can we ta-” Rafael started to say before you cut him off.

“No”

“Can I talk?” you finally looked into his eyes, they were such a beautiful shade of green and you slightly nodded.

“I’ am sorry. About the case, about making you feel the way you felt. I didn’t realise how I was treating you. I’ am sorry, please think about staying.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

****

You were let out of Hospital the next day. Rafael ended up leaving early that morning, the DA called him in for a case. You got home and showered when there was a knock at your door. You were shocked when you opened it, seeing who was standing there, Liv, Sonny, Amanda and Fin, each holding a brown paper bag.

“What are you all doing here? Ah I mean come in” you stood aside and let them all in.

“Barba called Liv and told her what happened, so we decided to come over and I’ am going to cook” Sonny said back to you.

“And we want to apologise” Amanda grabbed your shoulder “For making you feel the way you do. We didn’t mean it, we were assholes and we don’t want you to leave”

“I know you have got in contact with your old Lieutenant, but please reconsider” Liv looked at you with a small smile.

Lunch was amazing and for the first time you felt like part of the squad. You just hoped that it would last. Everyone had left after helping to wash up, clean up, the left overs put in the fridge. You had just sat down on the couch when there was another knock on the door, you were even more shocked with who was standing there,

“I know everyone has left, but I brought dessert” Rafael had a big smile on his face “Can I come in?” you moved out of the way to let him make his way in, sitting the bag he was carrying on your kitchen bench “Sorry I wasn’t here with everyone else, the DA wanted me to go over a case, took longer than I expected. How are you feeling?”

“A bit better, thanks. Why did you call Liv?”

“I was worried about you. And, I guess, I hoped she would talk you out of leaving”

“Why?”

Rafael walked over to you, grabbing your hand to pull you around to look at him.

“Because, I like you”

“Is that how you treat people you like? Hate to see how you treat people you love”

“For that. I’ am sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was protecting myself”

You raised your eye brows at him. Before you had chance to say anything back, his lips came crashing on yours. Butterflies filled your tummy and you lent into him moving your head for him to deepen his kiss, Rafael resting his hands on your neck, you resting yours on his waist. After a moment you pulled away to catch your breath and looked into his eyes,

“That was unexpected” you smiled at him, Rafael smirking back at you.

“I really want to see where this goes, I promise I don’t love how I like”

Tags: @detective-giggles @beccabarba @witches-unruly-heart @dianilaws @scarletsoldierrr @lv7867 @permanentlydizzy @averyhotchner @infiniteoddball @fandom-princess-forevermore @madamsnape921 @annabelleb49 @alwaysachorusgirl @thatesqcrush @lovelymischief

#ada rafael barba #ada barba #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x yn #barba fanfic #barba x reader #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba x you #reafael barba x reader #rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #SVU fanfiction #SVU FANDOM #svu fan

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sullustangin · 3 years

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Fearful Avoidant Attachment and the Single Spy

Caveat: I’m not a counselor of any sort, and I’m applying labels to fictional characters. Don’t take this too seriously.

This post has been kicking around in different forms in my prompt document for awhile. I will start posting my Yavin fic this weekend. A major element of this fic will be the dynamic between Theron and the playable character/love interest. Their interactions will be informed by how I view his attachments. I’ve put some of this into the fic series already.

“Attachment” in the Star Wars universe is the idea, according to George Lucas, that Jedi should love everyone but not get attached. “Attached” in this context is possession, greed, being willing to do things for individuals rather than the greater good, and ultimately the fear of loss. Attachment is a negative concept in Jedi philosophy.

However, I would argue that while this philosophy is in the back of Theron’s head, Jedi attachment concepts are not what makes Theron’s personal life messy. It’s the personal context surrounding that teaching and his life events that shape this. So let’s look at real life attachment theory.

In its most basic form, attachment theory is the idea that children need to develop a positive relationship with a caregiver to turn out ok. If the child is neglected, then they will have problems forming healthy attachments to others. There’s a lot of caveats to this theory. Some put the threshold of ‘must have positive relationship by x age’ to age 2 or age 5. Others state that this is problematic, because if a child loses their caregiver and passes into the hands of a less affectionate or downright abusive caregiver, then their positive attachment formation by age x doesn’t count for much.

There are several different types of attachment that a person can have. A secure attachment is what most healthy relationships are rooted in. People feel safe and secure within themselves and within the relationship. Jedi can be attached in this fashion, even if they don’t call it this; the Jedi have orderly boundaries and a clear understanding of what their associations entail. They have care systems for younglings and padawans, which were like pre-modern apprenticeships. They are secure within themselves as Jedi and in their relationships outside the order. They are at peace.

An insecure attachment has a flaw in it; something is wrong in how the person relates to themselves and others in relationships, platonic, romantic or otherwise. One type is dismissive or avoidant; the attachments are actively avoided, so the person is often isolated and rejects others and their friendly overtures. Another type is anxious or preoccupied; people tend to get very clingy or possessive with anyone they latch onto, which can cause the relationship to self-destruct (hi, Anakin).

Then there is fearful avoidant attachment, the label I think fits Theron Shan, our favorite high-quality spy and absolute emotional disaster. In theory, Theron tries to avoid deep emotional attachments because he’s scared of being left behind or not having those attachments reciprocated. At the same time, he desperately wants those attachments and relationships, but the potential of failure makes him avoid or even sabotage the relationship. That results in an on-going war between Theron and his feelings. To quote Psychalive, “the person [he wants] to go to for safety is the same person [he is] frightened to be close to. As a result, [he has] no organized strategy for getting [his] needs met by others.”

Why does Theron have attachment issues?

Some accuse Satele Shan or Jace Malcom of being “bad parents.” There’s a problem with this premise: although there is a biological relationship, neither Satele nor Jace had a parent-child relationship with Theron. Jace didn’t even know Theron existed until the child was 26, so he couldn’t act in any capacity. Satele gave Theron up to be raised by someone else; she opted out of the role of mother and did not talk to him as mother-and-son until Theron was 26. There isn’t an abusive or neglectful relationship here because there isn’t a relationship, period. Much like romantic relationships, it’s better to have no relationship than a bad one. Jace and Satele didn’t raise Theron. They were strangers to him until he was an adult. They were never his caretakers. Who did Theron have attachments to?

Theron was raised by a Jedi named Ngani Zho, who had been Satele Shan’s master when she was a padawan. After Satele gave birth in a cave on some planet, Zho took the child and raised him as his own son. This was irregular, honestly. Jedi younglings that express some sort of control over the Force are typically put into a creche at the Jedi Temple; we’ve seen this in the Star Wars prequel films. Guss Tuno references this in SWTOR, as he was chagrinned to be in class with a bunch of five-year-olds in bathrobes. Theron was raised by Zho directly and they were constantly traveling, based upon comments we read in The Lost Suns comic and in the novel Annihilation. Theron never entered the creche because he never manifested signs he was Force-sensitive – not even a little like Guss.

Zho traveled with Theron until the boy was an adolescent. Then, Theron was told by Zho to travel to the Jedi Temple at Haashimut to receive more training; he could do no more for him. The trip through a desert nearly killed the boy. When Theron had recovered, it fell to Master Till’in to tell him he would not be a Jedi. Ever.

Instead of telling Theron or notifying Satele about the boy’s lack of Force aptitude, Zho sent him onward and then disappeared. There is no indication that Zho told anyone where he was going or why. When Theron met Zho again at age 23, the Master’s mind was scrambled and confused; he couldn’t give any answers to Theron about anything. Was there a mission he had been set on? Or did he just wander off on his own?

For storytelling purposes, it’s convenient to pair Zho’s departure with the aftermath of the Treaty of Coruscant. In the year Theron turned 13 (3653 BBY), the Great Galactic War ended with the Treaty of Coruscant, wherein the Sith Empire enforced demands on the Republic. The Sith won. Zho leaving could be tied to this (through a mission or quixotic urge), but the source material isn’t clear on the timing.

Theron’s life suddenly became very uncertain. His entire life had been built up to becoming a Jedi. To some extent, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, Theron probably felt like he was a failure. We know he tried to fix this; in The Lost Suns, he acknowledged pursuing access to the Force through the Matukai Force tradition – being an ascetic. In Annihilation, he recalled and took particular umbrage at the “arrogance” of the Jedi – those that made him feel like any other path was second (or third or less)-best. This diminished over time, but the revelation about his lack of Force Sensitivity probably left Theron feeling very insecure about himself and who he was as an adolescent/young teen.

In terms of his relationships, Zho was gone with no forwarding address. The man Theron called his father was no longer reachable, and for another ten years, there would be no closure as to what happened to him. Zho had actively endangered Theron by sending him through a desert to Haashimut. Did he gamble that the boy’s Force Sensitivity would manifest in a life-threatening crisis or something? Who knows? Theron never went into the Jedi creche, so he didn’t have close peers or friends beyond pen pals at best. Theron had not spoken to his bio parents at all to this point, and he probably didn’t know many (if any) non-Force Sensitive kids. With his expulsion from Jedi society, Theron’s entire relationship network was gone.

This is important to understand -- Theron had been raised to not have attachments that would lead to selfishness or fear of loss, but he was raised to be able to love and care for others. He lived in a structure that fostered good psychological attachments (secure attachments) to the order and to his fellow sentients without possessiveness or jealousy. Theron knew his mother gave him up. He knew one day Zho would give his care over to another Master. He knew one day, he would leave the Temple to go out into the galaxy. Theron knew how the galaxy worked and his role in it...

..and then it was torn away from him. No more masters, no more knowledge of what came next, no way to ever work with his mother as a Jedi. His life to that point had been an illusion -- he was never able to access the Force, and Zho knew it. This left Theron as insecurely attached, as nothing that he anticipated for his life would ever happen, and he knew nobody that would accompany him into this new life.

External to all this, the Republic Theron was raised to serve was on the losing end of war. How the galaxy worked, as far as Theron knew to that point, was going to change. After Till’in told Theron the truth, all we know is that he spent some time in Haashimut before going elsewhere. We the viewer have no idea what happened to Theron from adolescence until he was 16, when he entered SIS per Annihilation. This may be a canon math/timing error, or it could be reasonable; Theron might have been able to get permission to join a government organization at 16. If Theron was in foster care or a ward of the state or something else, whoever was involved didn’t make an impact worthy of mention thus far in SWTOR canon.

Theron described Zho in The Lost Suns as “never reliable.” That was a 23-year-old looking back. Yet, he referred to him as his father in Annihilation three years later, and even eight years later in SWTOR: KotFE, he mentions that “Master Zho would be proud.” This seems contradictory. Additionally, in both The Lost Suns and Annihilation, SIS Director Marcus Trant expressed concern about Theron and his issues. Theron was a workaholic. Being a workaholic is actually a sign of having attachment issues; a person attaches themselves to work, not people Theron expressed desires to run away, go on vacation, and do new stuff… but he never did these things – couldn’t get away from the job.

Attachment theory states that a child has difficulty with attachments if they are abused or somehow neglected by their caretaker. The desert march definitely strikes me as falling into one of those categories, but again, Zho’s logic isn’t readily offered up to the viewer, nor are many details about Theron’s life as a traveling youngling. That all said, Zho’s traumatic departure probably caused attachment issues that had no other herald.

Why do the labels “fearful” and “avoidant” fit Theron?

Theron Shan as the player met him in Forged Alliance SWTOR was a professional. Flirting was ignored, mildly acknowledged, or, rarely, fully reciprocated. There was no physical contact between Theron and his asset. This doesn’t seem off or irregular until his romance is compared to that of Lana Beniko. She didn’t have the same issues expressing affection for her asset on Imp side; she touched their face and gave them a hug by the time the spies went under deep cover after Rakata Prime. Even if the player did not romance Lana, Lana herself was keen to make a team and bust open the conspiracy; she wasn’t as willing to go it alone.

Avoidant people tend to refrain from contact, and they like being independent. They don’t do well in teams. Sound familiar? Fearful avoidants also have the concern that they will fail their partner or that their partner will fail them. If the player was Imp side, Theron was a jerk well into the Rishi storyline. Eventually, Theron did come around. His dialogue and follow-up letter reflect the fact that he actually did want these connections and attachments. He enjoyed the time he had with the player.

This is particularly pronounced if Theron was romanced by the player on Rishi and Yavin; first physical contact occurred on Rishi with a kiss. If the player was Pubside, the fade-to-black and his comments on Yavin indicate they had sex. Those episodes of affection, paired with the Pub post-Yavin letter and dialogue, really emphasize the connection that was formed. Interestingly, Theron did not get a fade-to-black with the Imperial player. One might argue that he knew they were going to leave him, and so he couldn’t –wouldn’t—get attached.

…. And then Ziost happened. Theron refused to ask for help. He didn’t want to depend on that attachment. He was distant on Ziost, regardless of how far the relationship went, and if Pubside, he declined a drink afterwards.

Whatever transpired between Ziost and the Eternal Fleet Incident, it’s clear that a romanced Theron and the player never defined their relationship. There were certain boundaries that never were crossed. He’d “like to think” the player is dreaming of him, but he didn’t want to presume. Even after Theron got into a romantic relationship on Odessen, he still struggled with his ability to be attached, as evidence by his letters and expressions of affection and concern throughout the KotFE/KotET expansions.

One might argue that the traitor element of the Nathema Conspiracy was partially caused by Theron’s attachment issues: his independent streak, his inability to ask for help, his lack of faith in others to do the job right (not telling anyone the truth), his lack of faith in himself (his willingness to understand why the player might dump/exile him). If romanced, he gave one of his Holonet messages the subject line “I love you,” but even then, he did not clue the player into his self-made mission. Certainly, the Nathema Conspiracy happens because of Theron’s desperate desire to save the galaxy and the player at any cost – including the relationship itself and his life.

For those who let Theron live, the attachment issues have faded as Theron has gotten engaged/married and/or reformed a relationship with his bio parents… or the writers have moved on from Lana and Theron as companions. Regardless, we have to keep in mind that Theron is closing in on 40, and he has grown as a character since he first appeared in Star Wars media at age 23 (baby and adolescent only in flashbacks). His issues with his relationships, the Jedi, the Republic, and his bio parents have changed over the course of 17 years. In the last story patch, people who have romanced Theron received letters from both Theron and his mother about how good the player is for him, and it’s very satisfying to see how far he has come.

How does this label of ‘fearful avoidant’ manifest in your fanworks?

Since not everyone is into fic, I’ll drop this behind a cut.

Basically, my version of Theron wants love but is terrified of all the feelings and closeness that come with it. When people get close, he draws away, but still wants them to be close. Theron has had good relationships, but if it gets too serious, he runs. That’s the case for his last major relationship prior to my oc; his Mirialan girlfriend was drawing a tattoo to mark their relationship, and she wanted him to meet the parents. Theron noped out of there pretty hard by taking a long mission off Coruscant and sort of forgetting to tell her. There are several times where he takes a big step with Eva (my oc)– disclosure, physical intimacy, caring for her or letting her care for him – and then he just doesn’t contact her for the next few days. He dives into work to avoid her. Toward the end of their initial relationship, that will turn into weeks and months. He is freaked out when he does things with her that are intimate, sexual or not. He has a lot of fear that he will be left again, so he leaves first.

Theron also sets up a lot of rules and boundaries that the partner has to dance around to get in. After 300,000 words, I just completed a slow burn with the Rishi kiss, because Theron wouldn’t get involved with Eva until after the op to expose the conspiracy was over. There will be more rules once they get to Yavin.

When I was doing research on this, I read a clinical study that found that people with avoidant attachment issues are particularly fastidious about safe sex. They don’t want attachments to their lovers in the form of a disease or a child. Anxious attachments tend to eschew this and take the risk so they can be bound to someone. This is part of why I gave Theron a male birth control implant, but there will also be reference to his back-up (condoms) and back-up back-up (PreP) to ensure there aren’t any adverse consequences for him.

Theron is often alone, but that doesn’t make him lonely by default. In part, that might be due to his avoidance of attachments. Dude can pick up people at a bar and get laid. Theron isn’t adverse to sex, just intimacy. He can find someone to hook up, but that doesn’t mean there is anything beyond sex attached to it. Theron can and does get dates, and he can have relationships ... but that doesn’t mean he can make a healthy connection to the other person. I think his issues are more emotional/internal than they are caused by not getting enough physical contact or affection from others. People want to love him. People reach out to him to be friends or have a relationship. He just doesn’t want it; he avoids it. I imagine that this is partly the case with Jace and his SIS coworkers.

The last fearful avoidant feature I’ll give Theron in my series is the tendency to idealize relationships after they’re dead and over. When the relationship is no longer available, it is held up and made glorious, partially to enable the person not to pursue a different relationship; it’ll never be as good, so why try? This also calls in the tendency for fearful avoidants to fear not only screwing up the relationship themselves, but that others won’t live up to their expectations. Theron is a mess after the Eternal Fleet incident and never moves on from Eva. It’s reasonable when he thinks she’s alive, but for a good two years, he thinks she’s dead… and he can’t. With anyone else.

Unlike the game, I eventually send Theron to a therapist to deal with the fearful avoidant attachment issues. I figure if I’m going to give a fictional character a real-world label, I need to give him a real-world solution that might work.

#swtor #theron shan #character analysis #theron thursday #jedi #jedi philosophy #ngani zho

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shinobicyrus · 4 years

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Meeting for the First Time Again

A short little DS9 fic inspired by @c-rowlesdraws more alien redesign of Dax. Here’s a re-imagining Sisko’s reunion with his old friend.

Besides bearing DS9’s new Science and Medical officers, the USS Bhaskara was offloading much-needed support personnel and medical supplies for both the station and Bajor. With the Enterprise being called away earlier than anticipated, the Bhaskara would likely be the last Federation ship any of them would see for weeks.

Major Kira had accompanied Sisko aboard, and had stood straight-backed and on edge during the formalities between him and the Bhaskara’s captain. Charitably, Sisko figured it might not have been comfortable for her to be stuck in the unfamiliar close quarters of a Federation starship, or it maybe being surrounding by over a hundred sapients of a dozen different species all in their matching, pristine uniforms.

He still hadn’t come to a final verdict with her, yet. Certainly she had no love for the Federation. Hadn’t been at all shy to disclose that fact either, which he couldn’t help but privately admire. It was the kind of refreshingly straightforward attitude that Sisko didn’t encounter as often as he liked, anymore.

At least he knew where they stood. There may never be any friendliness there, but there could at least be a mutual respect, if they didn’t give each other brain damage butting heads all day.

Well. That was what their new doctor was for.

He was human and very young. His blue uniform was freshly replicated, and a medical bag hung off of his shoulder as if he expected to start performing first aid the moment he stepped off the ship. Sisko had read his file. Doctor Julian Subatoi Bashir had the highest qualifications of any medical practitioner he’d ever seen, and the academic accolades to have his pick of duty assignments.

Instead of research or a ship’s physician, he chooses a barely-functional Cardassian monstrosity on the furthest fringes of Federation space.

No one makes that choice unless they have something to prove. That never boded well. Sisko could only hope the few weeks tending to a people trying to recover from decades of slavery and genocide will give the good doctor a good dose of sobering reality.

Thankfully, Captain T’Shel was vulcan and took zero offense when Sisko politely declined their offer of a light tea in their stateroom. With the amount of work still needed to get DS9 up and running, it was only Logical he take his officers and return to work as soon as possible.

Their disembarkation went without incident, though Sisko half-expected the airlock to jam again. Next to him, Doctor Bashir took in the grim Cardassian architecture of the promenade with that eagerness unique to academy graduates on their first assignment; his eyes sparkled with adventure and Sisko marveled that he himself had ever been that young.

DS9’s Science officer was more sedate, flowing over the tall rim of the airlock on many legs with a smooth, liquid grace. Two pairs of stubby but strong limbs pushed her long body upright and brought her flat, vaguely amphibian head at about his chest-level, passably mimicking a biped.

“Commander.” Major Kira looked uncertainly at her charges. “If you’d like me to give these two a tour of the station – ”

“You and Doctor Bashir go ahead, Major.” He turned to the trill and saw her already looking at him. The face of a stranger. Still, he smiled at her. “I’m afraid I have to put Lieutenant Dax to work right away.”

Dax nodded, unperturbed at being put to work so soon after a long starship journey. Not even time to throw her pack into her new quarters.

Major Kira for one just seemed relieved. The sidelong glance she gave Dax made it clear how unused she was to dealing with non-humanoids. Sisko couldn’t bring himself to judge – all of her interactions with off-worlders before now had involved Cardassians.

Before she could herd him away, Doctor Bashir half-ran past Kira to Dax’s side, stopping them from leaving. Sisko was too surprised – and too curious of Dax’s reaction – to chide him.

This time.

“Jadzia!” He adjusted the strap of his bag, completely heedless of the disgruntled glare Major Kira had leveled at him like a charging phaser. “I was thinking. Maybe we could…” He cocked his head, boyish smile shy but still precocious. “Get together later. For dinner?”

Dax did not answer immediately, as if he...she were weighing the question. As one second, then another ticked by without a response, Sisko watched the fear creep into Bashir’s eyes as it slowly dawned on him that he was holding up his commanding officer. Sisko said nothing to add or alleviate his anxiety, and Bashir stammered, looking to him and then back to Dax. “O-o-or a drink?”

Dax blinked slowly. Her mouth curled into a shape a human would find friendly. Her voice was thick, melodious and warm like rain on a muggy day. “I’d be delighted.”

Three words was evidently all it took to leave Doctor Bashir a dumb, grinning blob of hormones stuck in place in front of the airlock. Dax and Sisko left him to be pried off the deck by the Major.

They walked side-by-side down through the promenade. Sisko kept his strides small so the four shorter limbs on Dax’s lower body could keep up without much difficulty.

While trills could stand upright just fine, walking without all eight limbs was another matter; like expecting a human to hop around on one foot all day. Any Federation-raised citizen wouldn’t think twice about trill walking past low to the ground, but Curzon had stubbornly mastered the art.

‘Gotta look them in the eye, Benjamin. Think I could have gotten anything done at Khitomer crawling around the Klingons’ pointy boots?’

Watching her walk was what did it. The dignified posture, head bobbing and both pairs of upper-arms clasped behind her back. It was all Curzon, but eerily incongruous. Like looking into the mirror and seeing the wrong color uniform.

Sisko leaned down to ask, “He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?”

“Trills mature a little faster than humans, but we’re close in Standard,” Dax said. “He’s twenty-seven and I’m –”

“Three-hundred twenty-seven?”

“You know I stopped counting, Benjamin.”

“How convenient for you.”

Dax chortled a bubbly trill laugh. “What was that human expression you told me once? About youth and old age?”

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

“A pitfall I’m glad to have avoided,” Dax grinned.

“You’re dodging the question.”

She stroked her whiskers like Curzon used to do when he was pretending to be a forgetful old man. When...she was pretending. “And what question would that be?”

“Whether the man knows he’s chasing after someone who’s technically older than his great-grandparents.

“Of course he knows,” Dax’s upper body stood a tad straighter. “He finds it fascinating. He’s never met a joined species before.”

“‘Fascinated’ isn’t the word I’d have chosen to describe it.”

“It’s the spots. And the arms,” She raised two of them to fend off his raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry Benjamin, I’ve been around humans long enough to be able to spot a harmless crush. He’ll sigh and pine at the ‘unattainable older woman’ shield he put around me until he gets over it.”

“I’ll trust your expertise on the matter,” Sisko said wryly. “While we’re on the subject, what’s your opinion of him?”

“My opinion?”

“You've trained your share of clueless ensigns and terrorized enough trill initiates...”

“That’s true,” Dax agreed. “I happen to remember one young cadet who swore he’d be captain of a starship by thirty.”

“And an admiral by forty.”

“How is that going for you?”

“Further along than Cal. And you’re changing the subject.”

Those whiskers, again. “The subject being?”

“Come on now, Dax. You two were stuck on the Bhaskara for three weeks. That’s more than long enough for you to get a good read on him.”

“Is this an official request from my superior officer?”

Superior officer. Curzon. That…was going to take some getting used to. “If it has to be, but I’d rather be talking with an old friend whose opinion I trust.”

Dax looked pensively at patterns on the deck plating as they walked. “He’s...young. Eager. Brilliant and knows it, but even the arrogance feels like an affectation. Almost obligatory. At least, it’s flimsy enough that I doubt it will last long outside of a competitive Academy environment.”

“He specifically asked to be here.”

Dax’s hum was like rippling water. “He told me that as well.”

“That sounds like a man with something to prove.” Sisko didn’t hide the disapproval in his voice. From another officer under his command, maybe. Not from Dax.

“Yes, but it’s to himself first and foremost. I’m not a counselor Benjamin, so I couldn’t tell you why, but I’m confident his rough edges will be smoothed over with little bit of time, wisdom, and real-world experience. And,” she added with a thin smile. “The guiding hand of a wise mentor.”

“I hope I can live up to your example.”

“Oh, I meant me. You’ll do too, I suppose,” Dax winked. “I taught you everything you know.”

For the first time since he boarded that godforsaken Cardassian station, Ben Sisko laughed. “Not everything, Old Man.”

#sorry it's short #my writing has been so sparse I'll take what I can manage at this point #Jadzia Dax #Benjamin Sisko #Star Trek #DS9 #Deep Space Nine #aliens #I really adore c-rowles various redesigns #I kind of feel like Star Trek would have benefited from some Henson Puppet aliens a-la Farscape #just for a little variety #anyway Dax has always been one of my favorites can you tell?#Sassy Alien Salamander Dax is best Dax #might do more of these I've been on a DS9 kick lately #My Writing #My Fanfiction

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thick-person-chronicals · 3 years

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Lately I’ve been really heart broken over the fact that I was never anyone’s first thought, I was always the last. This goes for parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, teachers, etc. I was never thought about. So, here’s a list of things that has fucked me up so I can vent and relieve some stress.

Shit my mom has said and done (I’m no contact with her for two months now):

• growing up she’d play WOW all day and wouldn’t get up for anything, INCLUDING feeding me and my siblings, taking us to school, helping me bathe (I was really young), taking the dog out (none of us kids were strong enough to take him), so he legit shit all over her room, and living room and never cleaned it up. Her room was literally covered in shit for 2 years. We were evicted because neither of my parents would work, and the house was deemed a biohazard and was tore down.

• wouldn’t allow me to see or contact my dad after kicking me out, told me he just didn’t want to, that he didn’t love me enough to visit. When she finally let him pick me up and hang out with me for a day, my dad came to take me to a birthday, his female friend was in the passenger seat, I was in the car (9y/o), she saw the woman and pulled me out of the car through the driver window because she was jealous and kept asking my dad to be with her again. I was bruised and bawling. When he left she started screaming at me to stop crying, and went inside without me.

• she started starving me, because I was over weight naturally. She’d force me to work out with her, wouldn’t let me eat unless it was a meal and even then she gave me the smallest portions. Her bf started starving me too, cause whenever she was asleep or at work I would get a snack and he wouldn’t let me eat when she couldn’t stop me. She’d shame me for eating, because I began to binge eat.

• my dad started going to my school to see me and gave me a phone to talk to him with. I told him about her drug use and how she’d beat my older brothers. I went to the police station so they’d let me live with my dad. Instead the cop drove me back home and told her what I said. The second he left, she started screaming at me, “fine, you wanna see your dad so bad?? You got your wish, you won.” And went upstairs and got high. Instead of seeing him, we moved to a different town and changed schools so ‘my dad wouldn’t find me’. She brainwashed me to believe my dad didn’t love me and he busted wanted to hurt my mom using me.

TW/SH

• I was extremely depressed, and people on the internet told me that cutting helped for them. I tried it, and began cutting every night in the shower after my mom went to work. One day I was wearing shorts, sitting in the living room talking to my brother. She walked in, saw them peaking out from my shorts, gasped, didn’t say anything and was visibly angry. She took a picture, and it was never brought up again. She didn’t talk to anyone, get me a therapist, nothing.

• when my oldest brother came to our mom and confessed to her that he was depressed, she then talked shit (like she usually does) about him to me and our other siblings. She said to me, “He has no reason to be depressed. I did good at raising him, he needs to get over it.” She said this to me, and smirked at me cause she knew I was self harming. My cutting got worse after that.

TW/Su!c!de

• at some point, I attempted suicide in middle school and got scared. I stopped the bleeding, and knew I was at my lowest. At the time, I didn’t know school counselors were mandated reports, so two days after I attempted I told the counselor. She called my mom to come to the school and told her what happened. We walked to the nurses office so they could see the damage and the nurse counted over 100 cuts from the day before. I laid on a bed and watch GMM on my phone. They always made me feel better, I giggled while she walked in and she said “well you’re not upset anymore, you’re fucking laughing.” The nurses stopped talking, and just stared at her. She was dead silent after that and took me home. On the way home she said to me, “you’re embarrassing. You embarrassed me. Now they think I’m a bad mother.” When we got inside she made me show her my cuts and got even more angry and I hid in my room for the rest of the day while she called her friends and talked shit about me (yes I could hear her. She talked shit about me and my siblings all the time on the phone).

• the next day she took me to a hospital to get referred to a psychiatrist because the school counselor demanded it. I knew this was my only chance at getting help so I told a nurse that I needed to be admitted. They understood and admitted me. This took a long time. My mom was absolutely pissed that I was being admitted and asked them not to but they told her I needed to be place on suicide watch. At some point I was trying to sleep while I was being admitted, and nurse came by to check in on us. My mom thought I was sleeping, and told the nurse that I “was just an attention seeking whore.” I don’t even remember how I reacted but she knows I heard her because she told my brother that she “feels sorry for saying it,” but has never once apologized to me for it.

I could keep going, but this would be an essay at that point. The next time I add to this I’ll try to add more. Thank you for listening 💜

#starve #ana #not pro just use hashtags #sh #self harm #TW SH #SH TW #narc mom #abusive mom #dear diary

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

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“Return To Sender” *Part 2*

So I promised @objection-argumentative I would do a second chapter of this, and instead I wrote “Helpless”. So I wanted to make good on my promise. Sorry took so long babe!

This will either end here, or if it continues it’ll be a “Sexy friends eventually build real feelings for each other and don’t know how to handle it” situation. Don’t know who’s all down for that.

Also, I did some...research, and learned how to write smut! Yay me! That sounds so awkward...but, anyway. I really thought that this story just entirely focused on that so, I did my best! (Shout out to @storiesofsvu for inspiration 😅☺️)

WARNING: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT.

If you missed Part 1

Check out Part 3

"And then he just walked out?"

You were detailing the horrific night to your room mate, who wasn't making the situation any better.

"YES!!!! God I am so fired…." You sighed, putting your hands over your face.

"Well hold on there, drama queen," they interrupted your breakdown. "Did your boss seem upset?"

“I mean, not really but why wouldn’t she be?” You shrugged.

“It’s not like you were texting during work or something. And he’s like, not even close to being in charge of you right, so it’s not sexual harassment…”

“I’m pretty sure discussing one’s oral skills would be considered sexual harassment babe,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well you didn’t actually say it to him! Or even text it! He just... happened to find out,” They shrugged with a giggle.

“I guess…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it hon, seriously,” They patted your head and went back to their own room.

You agreed and went to bed, still not entirely sure they were right.

----

The next day as soon as you got to work, there was paperwork sitting on your desk.

“What’s this?” you asked Amanda, who was your desk mate.

“Barba wanted you to come collect a warrant,” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh for fuck’s sake...Can’t you do it? Couldn’t ANYONE do it?”

“I mean he did ask for you,”

“God….great, now I have to go and listen to him gloat about he’s such a big deal, and that I’m in love with him, and blah blah blahhhh….”

“Yeahhhh, his ego’s probably too big to fit through a door now,” She chuckled.

“Ugh...I’ll be back,” you sighed and grabbed the paperwork, headed downtown to the District Attorney’s Office.

---

“Hi, I’m here for Mr. Barba,” You greeted Barba’s receptionist.

“He’s on the phone, but if he’s expecting you, you can go right in,”

You figured he was expecting you. You nodded and walked right into his office where he was indeed, on the phone. Dressed in an all black suit with the square shoulders, a pink dress shirt with a black tie. God he always looked amazing. And now that he knew you knew that, he’d never let it go.

He smiled when he saw you, mumbled something about having to call the person back and hung up, still grinning wildly.

“Well that was fast,” He took the papers from you.

“Yeah...what did you need them for?

“I actually didn’t need them, I needed you,” His tone suddenly shifted into a seductive one.

“....For what?” You blinked your eyes in confusion; was this actually happening?

“Well, I thought you might wanna take me up on my offer,” He grinned devilishly, walking around his desk to get closer to you.

“A-Are you serious?” You thought you might pass out right there in his office.

“Were you not?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean I, just-- I mean I never thought that--” your face was flushing hot, you couldn’t breathe. Of all the possible scenarios that could have come from him finding out about that text, this was the LEAST possible one you ever thought would happen.

“...You weren’t serious, were you? I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have assumed--” He turned away sheepishly and started back to his desk.

“YES I WAS,” You blurted out in an almost deafening tone. You hadn’t been serious, but if he was offering what you thought he was, there was absolutely no way in hell you were passing that up.

“Lock the door,” His eyes sparkled with arousal, his grin turning mischievous. You ran to lock the door as you heard Barba speak into his intercom:

“Sarah, hold all my calls. I’m gonna be busy for a while,” He smirked, making you shiver with anticipation.

“I um...ahem…where do you want me?” You looked around the room for a spot that would be comfortable to lay on...for God knows how long.

“There,” he nodded to a couch in the corner.

“Oh. Right. Obviously,” you giggled nervously. God dammit, now is not the time to be your weird awkward self!

“Calm down carino, I’m not going to bite…” He smiled, coming closer to you. When he reached you close enough he pulled you into him, making you gasp with excitement.

“Hard,” he winked, before picking you up and tossing you on the couch.

“Now you just relax, enjoy and remember-- tips are always appreciated,” he winked as he hiked up your skirt.

You were going to say something about him being such an ass, but you barely got halfway through your sentence before it was strangled by a thunderous moan, because Barba had wrapped his wet lips around your clit and started sucking.

“OH FUCK,” you yelped, suddenly not giving a damn how loud you were being. Barba laughed against your body and the vibration traveled through you like an ecstatic earthquake.

“Keep it down sweetie, people are trying to work,” He smirked, before going back down between your legs.

Pinning your thighs apart with his big warm hands, Barba started to work his tongue in an up-and-down motion on one side of your clit and then the other.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, lifting his head for just a moment, and you growled with frustration and shoved his face back where it belonged. You had never been so forward and...aggressive, like this before but something about him just brought out an animalistic side of you.

Barba switched to a circular motion, his tongue looping up, over and around your clit again and again, catching it in a tiny whirlpool of pressure and wetness and just enough friction. You couldn’t believe how good it felt. It was like your own fingers, but faster, softer, smoother..

You made noises deep in your throat that you didn’t even know you were capable of: wild, uninhibited, un-you-like noises.

Barba grabbed a pillow and stuffed it over your face, trying to silent your quite visceral noise making. You couldn’t help it, and you didn’t care.

One of Barba’s hot hands left your thigh and you missed it immediately, until you realized where he had moved it to. As his tongue continued to twist and spin against your clit in a seemingly impossible rhythm, he slipped first one finger, then two, inside you, and pushed them up against your G-spot. His hands were bigger than yours – you’d often secretly admired the way they looked wrapped around the grip of his pen– and his fingers felt so much more substantial than your own, filling you up like you never could when you were by yourself.

His tongue slipped across that one spot on the tip of your clit that always set you off, and suddenly you were coming on his mouth, grasping fistfuls of his hair and moaning into the pillow so hard you thought you might suffocate. He clamped his lips around your clit and squeezed rhythmically, riding it out with you, using his free hand to hold your hips steady as they bucked against his face. Your internal muscles gripped his fingers in waves and he waited until your contractions had completely stopped before slowly sliding his two fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean.

“So what did you think, as good as you imagined?” He smirked, looking down at your body, that wasn’t moving.

“Y/N?” He pulled the pillow from your face, and you still lay there comatose.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He shook you, to which you finally responded with a blink of your eyes.

“Jesus Christ, I thought I had killed you,” He sighed in relief, grabbing his pocket square out of his suit to wipe his mouth clean.

“....I think you almost did,” You were finally able to form words; you had actually blacked out after coming because it was so exquisite.

You were still reeling from his mouth being inside you, now you wanted yours in his. You jumped up off the couch and tried to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Oh sweetie no, I don’t kiss on the mouth. Too intimate,” he shook his head with a “no” motion of his fingers.

“Oh...um...sorry,” You suddenly became very insecure and awkward once again, realizing what had really just transpired. He was actually just proving to you that your thoughts were warranted, nothing more.

“So um..do you want me to….?” You gestured to his very obvious erection poking through his suit.

“I mean...if you want to,” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“I mean I just...um, I’ve never….” Your face grew hot and you twirled your hair nervously. Barba’s face went from a smirk to a look of horror.

“You’ve...You’ve never….Christ don’t tell me you’re a virgin, Y/N,” His hands went over his head in a stressful manner.

“N-NO, I’m not! I’ve had sex…” You looked everywhere but his eyes as you added “...Once,”

“...And have you ever had...that, done?” He raised an eyebrow.

“...Kind of?” You thought back to your one and only serious boyfriend, back in college. He had tried going down on you, but halfway through he had gotten sick and thrown up. It later turned out that he was very, very gay. Yes, your dating life was fascinating.

“Oh my god...what have I done?” He shook his head with a dry laugh.

“You don’t need to do anything, sweetheart,” He smiled, putting his hands on both of your shoulders. “This one’s on me,”

Sweetheart? What were you, ten all of a sudden? And THIS one? Was he implying this was going to happen again? Was he NOT just freaking out that he had taken your “oral virginity”? This whole thing had suddenly turned into a competition, and you were sure as hell not going to lose.

“You know what, I’m gonna go learn how to do...that,” You gestured to his erection once again.

“And it’s going to blow your mind. Then we’ll see who’s calling who ‘sweetheart’, ok counselor?”

“Oh I very much look forward to that, Ms. Y/N. Doubtful, but I enjoy the enthusiasm,” That cocky tone of his dripped with sarcasm as he led you to his door.

“Yeah...well...GOOD,” You literally had no better comebacks than a five year old, mostly because your mind was still in a haze from his brilliant mouth work. Dammit.

“Very productive meeting, Ms. Y/N!” He yelled at you as you walked down the hall and out the front door onto the bustling New York City streets.

As mad as you were, you still had to text your BFF:

“I was ABSOLUTELY right!”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #smut #warning #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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ieattaperecorders · 3 years

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Something's Different About You Lately - Epilogue: Borrowed Time

Life goes on, impossibly.

Read on Ao3

---

Martin shifted the bag of groceries in his arms as he climbed the stairs, still feeling a bit nervous.

The dinner had been Jon's idea – his O&M instructor was covering kitchen skills, and he'd thought it would be fun for the two of them to try making something together. The recipe had sounded a little elaborate to Martin, who'd protested that he didn't cook much, but Jon promised that it wasn't beyond them. He added that Martin was ‘perfectly capable' in the kitchen anyway, and said it with such prim, knowing confidence that Martin hadn't even bothered to ask. Before he knew it, he was writing down a list of ingredients to bring over.

He supposed that was just going to keep happening, Jon telling him things about himself. It was . . . strange. Sometimes it was endearing, sometimes just annoying. Occasionally it made him feel sentimental and a little bit sad in a way he couldn't put his finger on.

The door to the flat opened after a moment of knocking, and he smiled as Jon appeared.

"Hi Jon, it's Martin," he said. He'd read online it was polite to say your name, to not assume the other person will recognize your voice. "I've got the groceries."

"I know it's you, Martin." His tone was light and a little condescending, and Martin felt heat rise to his ears. "Come on inside. You know where the kitchen is."

Martin slipped past him and set down the bag, pulling things out and arranging them on the counter as Jon followed him to the kitchen.

"The store was out of chili paste," he mentioned.

Jon shrugged. "We'll improvise, then."

"If you say so."

Jon began taking out cookware, placing things down wherever he found counter space. "Do anything interesting today?" he asked, over the clatter of pans.

"Not especially. Filled out a few applications, then took a walk," he said. "Met a really friendly dog in the park."

"Flattered that you tore yourself away to come here."

"Wasn't by choice, her owner wouldn't let me keep her."

"How unreasonable."

It was weird, not having to worry so much about money. Not that Martin was complaining of course, but there was still a voice in his head telling him he was being too slow and selective in his job search, that it was lazy of him. And he felt anxious dipping into the new funds too much.

He'd just about gone into conniptions when Sasha told him what she'd done while she'd been fiddling with Elias's computer. Embezzlement might not have been an escalation when they were already committing arson, but they could still get caught, and wouldn't a financial windfall point a lot of suspicion towards them? But she kept assuring him that it was untraceable, some hidden fund Elias had, ready to be drawn on by anyone with the account information. The running theory was that he'd been keeping it for his next identity, which . . . yeah, the less Martin thought about that, the better.

Fear of discovery aside, he couldn't deny it was nice having a buffer like this. There was space he'd never had before to think about where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do with himself. And with the bills taken care of, Jon could focus his time on recovering. At the urging of his O&M teacher (and some amount of prodding on Martin's end) he'd even started talking to a counselor every few weeks. It was ostensibly just about handling the emotions that come up with sudden, traumatic vision loss, and he doubted Jon would be discussing the more exotic traumas he'd been through. Still. It was probably good he had something like that.

They went about the business of prepping ingredients, talking idly about food, things they'd done in the past few days, updates from Tim and Sasha. Martin's initial nerves already dissolving into the steady flow of conversation. There was something comfortable, he reflected, in being around someone who was so comfortable with him.

"Would you mind--" Jon frowned, fiddling with the hob on the stove. "I've got this, I'm fairly sure. Just . . . make sure I keep the pan centered?"

"Sure."

He came to stand behind Jon, watching over his shoulder as he set the carefully oiled pan on the stove and turned on the heat. Martin was a terribly distracted spotter, his attention frequently straying from the pan to look at Jon's face, pinched slightly in concentration. There was a single bead of sesame oil on his cheek, and it made his intensely serious expression that much more charming.

Despite his concerns, Jon had the pan well handled as he heated the oil and added in the aromatics. Martin only noticed him drifting once, the flames going high on one side of the pan.

"A little left," he advised.

In a moment of impulse and bravery, Martin curved an arm around him – placing a hand on his elbow, then running it down his arm to cover Jon's hand with his own, guiding the pan carefully into place. Jon leaned back, fitting the curve of his body into Martin's and sighing deeply.

"God, I've missed this," Jon exhaled. "Just . . . cooking dinner with you. All these little domestic things."

His voice was so unselfconsciously fond. It made Martin dizzy, just how easily affection poured out of him.

In hindsight, at least part of Jon's strange, awkward behavior around Martin had been a result of him holding back, wary of letting his feelings show. He never held anything back now -- his demeanor going from nonchalant or haughty to unbelievably soft and loving at the slightest prompting. It still took Martin by surprise, inspiring so much unreserved affection in someone. It wasn't anything he'd usually associate with himself. It was strange, and lovely, and at times made him feel almost frighteningly powerful.

He leaned forward, kissing the soft skin just beside Jon's ear. Jon smiled, holding his pose for a moment before gradually returning his attention to the pan, shaking it gently to move the vegetables around. Martin kept a hand on his, now fully for the sake of touch rather than any pretense of assistance, letting Jon's movements guide them both.

"Did we cook together in that cabin a lot?" he asked.

Jon nodded. "It was one of a handful of things we could do that felt . . . well, like a date, I suppose. We couldn't really go anywhere since we were lying low. I mean, we could walk around the area, isolated as it was, but trips to the village were all short and functional. So preparing something elaborate together made an evening feel special," he smirked. "You used to get defensive, too, just like today . . . saying you didn't really cook, like you were trying to lower my expectations."

"In my defense, I never said I didn't cook, just . . . ." Not since mum left , he thought. "Not for a while."

"To be honest, we were both at a disadvantage in that kitchen," Jon continued. "There weren't a lot of modern conveniences there. The power came from a generator, and the stove was an ancient, wood-burning thing that neither of us quite knew what to do with at first. Took a lot of trial and error before we really managed."

"Sounds cozy."

"Oh yes. So cozy we almost suffocated ourselves before we figured out how to adjust the vents."

Martin smiled, listening to Jon describe the little kitchen in that place. The cabin in Scotland had supposedly been a remote safehouse the two of them laid low in, but the way Jon talked about it sometimes it might as well have been a romantic holiday retreat. He made it sound so nice that Martin once idly suggested they go see it someday. Jon had gone tense and quiet at that, had shaken his head and said softly that they had to stay far, far away from that place. That there was nothing good that happened there now.

Jon was mostly open about the things he remembered. But sometimes "open" meant he'd easily speak at length about something, and other times "open" meant he'd answer your questions with short, one-sentence explanations, volunteering nothing unless pushed. And anything about the police officers he'd apparently worked with fell solidly into the second category.

Sometimes it seemed like they might have been friends, but Jon was always adamant that no one ever try to contact them. Daisy in particular seemed hard to talk about. Martin did know about the coffin. Jon had told him in a soft, emotional voice how another Martin had stepped from his cloud of isolation to set out tape recorders calling him home, how it had been one of very few things that let Jon believe he hadn't given up on him yet. And he knew something had been different about Daisy after the coffin, some sinister force like the one that had kept them at the Institute had loosened its hold on her.

He also knew that Jon was terrified of her, that he said again and again she was too dangerous to go near. That something about her made him sad -- and, Martin suspected, guilty, though he wasn't sure why. It was a topic he'd decided not to push . . . if Jon ever wanted to talk more about it, he would in his own time.

There were other things, things closer to home for Martin that Jon had hesitated over. Once while he was recounting the events of those years he'd paused mid-sentence. Stammered that it wasn't all supernatural in nature and some of it may still happen, and was he sure he wanted to know everything? Martin imagined Jon thought he was being subtle, but it wasn't a hard guess.

He told Jon not to give him the date. It was obviously going to be within the next couple of years, there was no spitting out that apple of knowledge. But he didn't want to be able to mark it on his calendar.

It shouldn't have felt like news, that his mum was going to die soon. Shouldn't have been the uncomfortable weight in his chest that it was. She was ill, of course it was coming, it had been coming for a while, hadn't it? But maybe that was the problem. It had been ‘any day now' for such a long time, ‘any day' had stopped feeling like a reality. And he still wasn't sure what to do with this information, if it really changed anything. Should he try to get some sort of closure? How did you make the most of the time you had left with a person who refuses to see you?

Martin hadn't asked Jon how much he knew about his mum, that just wasn't a conversation he was eager to have. But the careful, hesitant way Jon talked around the subject suggested . . . something, at least. Just like how the gentle, quiet tone he got when he talked about the Lonely told Martin more than he really wanted to have explained.

There was only one thing Jon flatly refused to tell him about, and that was whatever Elias had done to him on the day of the Unknowing. When pushed, Jon had gone quiet for a while, then said he didn't remember. It had been a lie, and a bad one, and both of them knew it. But it was clear there was no point in asking for more.

"You like pizzelles, don't you?"

Jon's voice snapped Martin to the present. With a last squeeze of Martin's hand, he turned off the flame, moved away from the stove and over to the pantry.

"Um, dunno?" Martin said, pulling his thoughts back together. "Never tried them."

"Really?" Jon frowned, pausing halfway to the cabinet door. Then he shrugged. "Well, no matter. You will."

Martin rolled his eyes. Jon spoke with so much more authority than anyone deserved to hold over another person's cookie preferences, and he couldn't help feeling contrary.

"No. You stepped on a butterfly last week and set off a chain of events that forever changed my feelings on pizzelles, I hate them now."

"That's all right," Jon said, popping open the plastic package and arranging the cookies on a plate. "If you don't want these, there's also canned peaches for dessert."

"Oh, don't you dare --"

Jon snickered, picking out a broken piece of one of the large, thin cookies and holding it out, just short of passing it into Martin's mouth. With an annoyed grunt, Martin leaned forward, taking a bite.

Damn it. It was really, really good.

---

Jon sank into the couch, pleasantly full and a little bit tired. He leaned back and listened to the sound of running water coming from the next room.

Martin had insisted on doing the dishes, on the basis that Jon had done "all the real work" of cooking. He wasn't sure that was true, but didn't argue. Just asked that he leave everything in the drainboard when he was finished so Jon could put it away later. He knew he'd be frustrated for hours if the dishes weren't where he expected them to be.

There were so many frustrations in his life now. His O&M instructor had promised he'd learn new ways to move through the world, that in time the frustrations would be fewer and fewer, and he'd find himself capable of nearly everything he'd done before the loss of his sight. Jon believed her, but it didn't make the prospect of getting there any less daunting. Nor did it make the learning process any easier.

The worst were the things his instructor would never understand, that no resource or guidebook would mention. The dread that gripped him when he became disoriented and found a door where he wasn't expecting one. The phantom tickles on his body that prompted him to pat himself down for spiders again and again.

Still. He was alive. The others were freed from the institute, and he was there with them, to struggle and to mourn and to continue on.

A part of him would always fear it had been a mistake. That the Web, or the Eye, or some other power still had plans for him that would reach apotheosis someday. Maybe he saw the fear as vigilance, as though something was waiting for him to feel safe so that it could rip that security from him. And as long as he never allowed himself to be truly, entirely at ease, that day would never come.

Irrational, perhaps. But it was so hard to tell anymore which irrational fears were truly irrational, and which would one day manifest with teeth and claws.

Even if nothing ever came for him, they had only bought the world some time. One day, maybe soon, someone would figure it out and attempt a ritual again. Maybe there would be others out there who would catch it in time, postponing the end over and over, forever. Or maybe someone would do it next week, and Jon would be plunged along with everyone else into unspeakable suffering until Terminus claimed them all. He could follow Gertrude's path if he chose, devote his life to stopping rituals at the cost of everything he cared for. Even then one could slip past him, come from someplace he hadn't been watching, or had been made not to notice. At some point he was going to have to find a way to live with that knowledge.

He'd work on it. But for the moment . . . .

The sound of running water stopped. Jon smiled, scooting to make room on the couch, feeling the cushions sink and shift as they took the weight of another person. With a hmm that came out with more whine to it than he'd wanted, Jon found Martin's arm and tugged it towards him. With a quiet laugh, Martin obliged, leaning into him and resting his head against his chest.

"Better," Jon arranged their limbs more comfortably. Martin's hands were still cold, and he smelled faintly of dish soap.

"Glad to hear it."

Jon knew Martin found it amusing, how clingy he was. The first time he'd commented on it had been profoundly embarrassing. Part of it was just the way Jon was, but he also remembered the days after the Lonely. The skittish, uncertain moments of contact, the times when Martin stiffened at his touch but whimpered when he pulled away. The other days, when they could barely let go of one another, when Jon would plant himself beside Martin or wrap his arms over his shoulders, and he would relax into it, sighing with release. Both of them too grateful for the fragile miracle of each other's touch to consider breaking contact.

This Martin didn't remember those days, and if he ever sensed anything desperate or reverent in the way Jon clung, he didn't comment on it. Still, even if he found it funny, he didn't seem to mind how ardently Jon held on to him.

Jon moved a hand into the space between Martin's shoulder blades and scratched down his spine, the particular way he used to like. Jon felt him shiver with pleasure under the soothing contact, and a powerful warmth spread through him.

"God . . ." Martin whispered, "you really know everything about me, don't you?"

Jon snorted. "Hardly. In a very real way, we barely had time to get to know each other. And when we did, well . . . it was close by necessity. It was intimate, and intense. But there's still a great deal I've no idea about."

"You were never tempted to use those powers of omniscience to look inside my head?"

"Constantly," Jon said, with great seriousness. "But I never did. I promised."

Martin went quiet at that. Maybe Jon's reply had been a little intense, or maybe Martin hadn't actually realized that looking inside his head had been a possibility when he'd asked the question as a joke.

"Oh," he said eventually. "Um . . . good?"

"I have picked up a few things," Jon continued, speaking with quiet and fond admiration. "For example . . . I know you'd like a pet, but your landlord won't allow them so you keep plants instead. You can't say no to panhandlers. You have a favorite hoodie that you only wear when you're sad and need the comfort. You like old, careworn furniture, and rainy days, and sitcoms that were made before you were born. You're kind to people who aren't kind to you, but you never forget the unkindness."

"Wow. Okay," Martin made a soft noise, shifting in his arms, voice tight and quiet. "Okay. Y-You're, uh, probably going to kill me if you keep that up, you know."

"Trust me, you've survived worse."

He felt Martin move a little higher, slotting himself beside Jon and giving him a tight squeeze. Jon grinned as the breath was pushed out of him, all twenty-four of his ribs contracting at the assault.

That was another difference, one of dozens of subtle changes Jon couldn't keep his mind from analyzing. Martin wasn't ungentle, exactly. But he hugged Jon more tightly, shoved or poked him when he was annoyed, whereas the Martin in his memories had held back a little. Been more mindful of his strength, as if wary he might handle him too roughly. It had been subtle, a thing Jon hadn't even noticed until he had something to contrast it against.

It made sense, he supposed. The other Martin had seen Jon limp back to the institute with fresh wounds and new scars one too many times. This one didn't have to have those images in his head.

There were some things that were lost between them, Jon knew that. Memories too small and simple to explain, questions he couldn't ask anymore. Moments they would never share, both good and bad. But there was also so much they had gained. This Martin hadn't had an easy life, not by any measure. But he hadn't had to watch helplessly as the people around him died or disappeared or became monstrous. Hadn't been lost in grinning corridors, or attacked by Hopworth's hooligans, or made to feel the heat of the endless tenement fire. And for that, Jon was so, so grateful.

"You look thoughtful," Martin commented.

"Mmm," Jon sat quietly for a while sifting through his thoughts before speaking. "We should go to a movie sometime. When I'm up for going out out."

"That sounds less fun for you than me . . . ."

"Depends on the movie. I could listen, even without description. And I'd enjoy being with you," he said. "Or maybe a concert? Though I don't really know what sort of music you like . . . ."

"Really? There's actually a blank spot in your catalogue of Martin trivia?" he said sarcastically. "Surprised it never came up."

"You only ever used headphones at work," Jon bristled, feeling oddly defensive about it, "and we obviously couldn't bring our devices to the cabin. Too traceable."

"Hmm," there was a teasing smile in Martin's voice. "Don't know if I want to tell, now. Feels like I've got a secret."

"Oh, except . . . there was one song? I don't know the lyrics, but you used to hum it all the time in the cabin."

"What was it called?"

"I didn't actually ask. It sounded nice, though. Maybe we could listen to it together. . . "

"How'd it go, then?"

He hummed the tune from memory. It came easily to mind, connected as it was with images of Martin sipping tea or wiping down a countertop, a bright, easy smile on his face. After a moment, Martin burst out laughing.

"That's -- that's from a soap commercial!"

". . . What?"

"Floors and doors, walls and halls, Liquid Lather cleans them all," he spoke-sang along with the tune. "It was probably just stuck in my head."

Jon frowned, mildly disappointed. "Well. It sounded nice when you were humming it, anyway."

"God. If you want I can serenade you with an insurance advert sometime."

"No thank you."

"Or we could listen to your album from uni," he pushed, the satisfied smile in his voice growing.

"Thankfully we never recorded anything," Jon grinned ruefully, "so that's lost to time."

"Bet you could still sing some of it."

"Try me the next time I'm not expecting to live through the night."

Martin made a displeased sound at that, but said nothing.

"I'm sorry that you always have to come over here," Jon said. "I should probably be making more of an effort to get out of the flat. But it's so much still, even with a guide. I can do it if I have to, but I can't relax."

"C'mon . . . you know I don't mind, and even if I did it wouldn't be something to apologize for. You're going at your own pace."

"Suppose I'm just impatient with myself. It feels absurd, I've walked through a London warped by unfathomable terror, but now ordinary city life is overwhelming. I think I never understood how many people there are on every block until each one became another unpredictable factor to be aware of on my way to the damn corner store," he sighed. "It may be a while before I'm up for anything like a concert."

"It's alright," Martin gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "I'm good at waiting."

For a moment Jon's mind went to a dark, creaking bedroom, air heavy with dust and thick with terror. It's all right. I'm good at waiting. The same phrasing, almost the same tone. Maybe it was to be expected, little parallels like this. Given a person's linguistic habits and enough time it was probably inevitable, but every time something like it happened it floored Jon in the most wonderful way. Some small but meaningful part of the man he loved reflecting and echoing back at him.

If the world didn't end, if he didn't dissolve into spiders or die at the hands of some unfathomable terror, Jon swore someday he'd find the words for how moments like that made him feel. And if he had any courage left in him, he'd tell Martin about it.

"Though, as long as we're talking about that," Martin said, "I've been thinking . . . ."

"In general?" Jon teased.

"Sort of. I've been reading some stuff about adjusting to vision loss? And I know this is fast – well, maybe not fast to you – but it seems to me like it's probably easier, especially at first, if you've got a sighted person staying with you . . ."

He felt himself breathe in sharply, and Martin's words came faster, his tone careful.

"Not - not to do everything for you, of course! I know you can do things yourself. Just to make little things easier, and – you know, that aspect aside it – it might just be nice –"

"Yes," Jon said decisively.

"Because it isn't really just the vision thing – I mean, it's alright if you do need help but it's also alright if you don't – but there's other reasons – "

"My answer is yes."

A faint laugh came out of Martin and he slapped Jon's chest lightly. "Stop agreeing and let me finish."

"Sorry."

"I'm not suggesting moving in. That would be too fast, at least for me," he said. "I'd want to keep my own place, and I'd probably still spend some time there."

"Of course," Jon nodded solemnly. "Perfectly reasonable to want some space of your own."

"Yeah. But if it works for you, I thought I might get a bag together, y'know, just sort of stay for a while? I – hell, I wouldn't, uh, mind the excuse to cook more dinners with you? And I slept better than I had in a while the night I stayed over here."

"So did I."

"I just think it might be nice. If you think so too, of course."

There was a pause as Jon waited, not sure if Martin had more to say. After the silence had dragged on for a while, he spoke up. "Am I allowed to say yes now?"

Martin laughed, nodding against Jon's chest.

"Then yes. I'd be very happy to have you stay here with me."

"Cool. Cool . . . " Martin exhaled. " . . . I love you."

"And I love you."

"More than I'll ever know?"

There was a teasing smile in Martin as he echoed the words Jon had said to him back in the tunnel. Jon was quiet for a moment.

He'd meant those words when he'd said them. It hadn't been a romantic turn of phrase. He'd confessed his feelings in that moment with the understanding that Martin would never be able to see how deep they ran. That he could tell Martin he loved him, but he'd never be able to show him that. He wouldn't have the chance. He found Martin's cheek with a hand, turned his face towards him, then bent down and kissed him, once.

"No," he said. "Not if I can help it."

#tma fanfic #tma #jonmartin #food mention

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 3 years

Text

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #ck #tag game #binary boyfriends #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip

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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 17: Jim

Ao3

Content warning: Things get pretty intense in this chapter in a lot of ways. I can't be detailed without spoiling the events of the chapter, so I'll put more the general warnings in the tags. If you want more specific warnings you can click the link above and go to the Ao3 page where I’ve posted the spoiler filled warnings in the bottom notes. And if anyone feels like I didn’t tag/warn about something that I should have please let me know. This is your warning, here be dragons, proceed with caution.

There was a stain in the carpet, from coffee if he had to guess. A dark brown spot glaringly obvious against the beige. It looked just big enough for his hand to cover.

“Jim, are you listening?”

He jerked his eyes up from the floor towards the desk in front of him.

“Sorry what was that?”

Her lips turned downwards into a tiny frown “We were discussing your goals Jim,”

“Oh, right….” he drummed his fingers against his knees.

A goal. Jim had still been trying to think of one when he zoned out looking at the carpet.

Couldn’t do any kind of job or college, those weren’t happening for him. She’d said their goals could be as long term or short term as they wanted, so maybe--

“My goal is to buy my own Vespa,” Jim said, giving himself a mental pat on the back as he did.

Owning his own Vespa. Nice, realistic, normal. A good, solid goal that no one should look twice at.

The frown melted away into a wide smile “That’s great, do you have anywhere you want to go in your Vespa?”

His face blanked, stomach dropping no less than two inches.

Stupid.

People wanted cars and Vespas and stuff because they wanted to go places in them. Unlike Jim who was never going to leave his hometown.

“Ummm…..not sure, all the places I normally go I guess,” he forced his voice to stay even despite the squirming in his belly.

Her porcelain smile remained fixed in place “I think that sounds like an excellent goal, but how about you try to think of a more long term goal before the end of the school year?”

Jim nodded along, digging his fingers into his jeans to distract himself from the hot, fluttery feeling sweeping over his entire body.

Was she suspicious? Did she pick up on how he wasn’t actually planning on going anywhere? Was she going to call Dorrie the second he left her office?

“Ok, long term goal next time, I can do that,”

Beaming at him, she pulled a packet of papers off the top of the pile sitting on her desk “You don’t have to use the guide to pick a goal, but if you have trouble thinking of one these should give you some ideas, now do you mind sending in the next student on your way out?”

Jim forced himself to stand up slowly and not just bolt out the door “Ok, no problem,”

“Thanks, have a good spring break,”

He managed to smile and give a half hearted ‘You to’ as he accepted the papers and stepped out of the office. Heading down the hallway back to the main waiting room, the jittery feeling crawling through his muscles diminishing but not completely going away.

It never did.

Glancing around the waiting room, he spotted the next person in line.

“Eli, you’re up,”

Eli fumbled with the magazine in his hands before popping up out of his seat “Oh, thanks Jim,” he grabbed the magazine along with a stack of others from the floor before rushing down the hall. Jim craned his head to try and read the cover before Eli vanished around the corner.

Keep So-Cal Weird.

Jim rolled his eyes as he exited the main office. At least his goals wouldn’t be as weird as Eli’s. Although quite frankly he’d rather live in a world where they didn’t make freshmen discuss their goals with the guidance counselors.

It wasn’t like Jim didn’t have enough on his plate already.

He had no idea if guidance counselors and social workers talked to each other on a regular basis, but he had to play it safe and act like they did.

Especially since he was like 99% sure that all the teachers knew. He knew that Strickler knew, and he was pretty sure that Strickler had told all the other teachers. So it was more like he was 99.999% sure they all knew, and the 0.001% was just him kidding himself.

So now he couldn’t even come up with some kind of goals to give the guidance counselor without his anxiety going through the roof.

Jim all but threw his bag into the locker and slammed it closed with much more force than was needed, unable to stop himself from getting worked up.

This past month had been the absolute worst of his entire life.

It had started when he’d walked in on Dorrie and Charles going through their house and it hadn’t really improved since.

When he and his mom had gone over their game plan that night after the initial panic it hadn’t seemed all that bad. Be extra vigilant about making sure that no one saw anything weird and otherwise pretend that everything was normal. If they kept on top of it the investigation should fizzle out to nothing.

Simple enough.

And the first week hadn’t been all that bad, tense but not bad. Week two had been nerve wracking but doable. Week three was when he really started having trouble sleeping, and it wasn’t like he got tons of sleep to begin with. That snowballed to him starting to forget late night meals and nod off during the day, having to work even harder at keeping up the act during school.

Although if Jim was honest with himself he forgot most of those night time meals on purpose.

On top of that, week four was when he developed a stomach ache that wouldn’t go away, not to mention learned that his hair was falling out. Now it was the end of week five and Jim couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t stressed out, dead tired, and constantly felt like rats were chewing on his insides.

Grimacing, Jim pressed a hand to his stomach as he turned and headed to the cafeteria. Feeling sick and exhausted all the time sucked, but that was nothing compared to the everpresent, unrelenting, blood curdling dread.

The fear that he’d somehow let something slip. That right at this moment someone was coming to arrest his mom and take him away. All because of something Jim said or did.

Forget walking on eggshells, this was more like crawling through a minefield.

Every second that Jim was outside his house he had to be on guard; keeping himself under complete control at all times. Making sure that anyone watching, teachers, nurses, other classmates, wouldn’t see anything worth reporting. No outbursts no meltdowns no nothing.

As far as anyone else knew the Lakes were a normal, happy family. And Jim had to act like it.

But after five weeks he knew that was a hell of a lot easier said than done.

Jim couldn’t be sad or scared or angry any more, even about regular things. With so many people watching he couldn’t afford to let them get the wrong idea. So regardless of what he was actually feeling at any given time, he forced himself to stay calm, plastered on a happy face, and continued along like everything was fine.

But he wasn’t fine. Underneath his plastic smile Jim was coming apart at the seams.

He felt like a nerve with all the skin and muscle ripped away. Exposed to the cold air and completely vulnerable, ready to go off at the slightest touch.

Constantly keeping himself under control in front of all the teachers and every other adult in school was was bad enough, even without--

Jim stopped short as he stepped into the cafeteria, instantly spotting them sitting at a corner table. Five weeks ago the sight would have been somewhat soothing, now it was enough to make his heartbeat triple and intestines knot up.

Pulling in a shaky breath, Jim forced down the sudden bout of nerves.

He was in the middle of school in the middle of the cafeteria surrounded by other people. Now was not the time to lose it.

Five in. Hold for five. Five out.

Repeat

After a minute of deep breathing the full body shivers finally diminished to a much more manageable fluttering in his chest. Confident that he’d successfully gotten his emotions under control, Jim raised a foot and slowly resumed his approach.

Jim had been going back and forth about doing this for weeks, but this morning cinched it.

He was doing this. Today. Right here right now. Even if the idea of doing it felt like standing on the edge of a cliff.

Because the worst part of the past month hadn’t been constantly being on guard or always being tired and nauseous. It was not knowing who’d he had to be on guard from.

A month ago, when he’d walked in on CPS in his house, Jim instantly knew one of his friends had blabbed.

While his immediate response had been to call Toby and demand answers, it didn’t take very long for Jim to shift gears to shoving the thought into the back of his mind and keeping it there. Couldn’t do anything to change it so there was no point to shoving his foot into that hornets nest. A with the way things had blown up when their problems with his mom first came out, forcing the issue might put him on the odds with all of them, and cost Jim the one part of his life that didn’t actively suck right now. The only thing to do was let it go.

So Jim let it go.

But as the weeks went by, despite how much he actively tried not to think about it, small doubts kept sprouting up in the back of his mind like weeds.

Did Mary really mean it when she asked how he was doing or was she fishing?

Was Toby trying to be helpful by offering to help carry groceries in or was he looking for a chance to spy inside the house?

His heart shot up into his throat, pounding as he closed in on the table.

And while Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them that called, he still had no idea who it was. That meant he didn’t know who it wasn’t either.

So as much as he tried, as much as he wanted to, Jim could never completely relax around any of his friends.

It was bad enough being on edge with every single adult in his life, but not knowing which one of his friends had stabbed him in the back, and worse not knowing if they were waiting to do it again…..

Jim stopped in his tracks, table just inches away. The four of them chatting away, his presence still unnoticed. Heartbeat hammering in his ears.

This was going to be ugly but Jim just couldn’t take not knowing any more. One way or another the truth was coming out today.

“I know one of you called the cops on my mom, so who was it?”

The four of them practically jumped in their seats before whirling around to face him. Claire was the first to find her tongue.

“What?”

Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. An expression shared by all the others sitting around her.

Somehow that made the lump of coal sitting in his ribcage smolder hotter even as his heart was threatening to beat out of it.

One of them knew exactly what he was talking about. One of them was only pretending to be confused.

“A month ago someone called CPS on my mom and I know it was one of you,” he made a show of narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms “So don’t try to deny it,”

They all turned and looked at each other, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Jim stood his ground, mouth set into a firm line and prickling doubts shoved down into the bottoms of his feet. There it was, the accusation out in the open. Whoever it was might try to deny it, but Jim knew it had to be one of the four of them, and he wasn’t going to let them weasel their way out of--

“Jim….” Toby spoke slowly, briefly meeting his eyes before looking away “We….all did,”

His heart stopped.

For a moment Jim wasn’t sure how to respond, wondering if he’d actually heard Toby correctly, then the world slowly started to turn again and the words sank in.

“.....you what?”

“It’s true,” he snapped his gaze over to Darci, she flinched but didn’t look away “After we tried...talking to you, the three of us went to my dad and showed him the photos,” she glanced over to Toby at her side “It was only after that we learned Toby also talked to someone about--”

Jim whirled on Mary “I thought you said you deleted those?!”

“I-- uh-- umm…” she squirmed in her seat “I....made…...copies,”

Jim’s jaw fell open, unable to form words.

Out of all the possibilities, all the theories and ideas he’d had on who might have called, he’d never even dreamed that they’d all been in on it together.

His head was spinning, insides frozen and a roaring sound in his ears. Both hands rising up and fisiting through his hair, in a distant part of his mind he knew he shouldn’t be doing that since it was still falling out.

Just when he’d thought there couldn’t be anything else. That life couldn’t possibly throw anything worse at him--

Things became worse than he ever could have imagined.

He was faintly aware that the four of them were glancing around at each other from across the cafeteria table “Ok,” Claire laid both hands flat in front of her palms down “You have every right to be mad at us, but…”

Jim tuned her out, he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to whatever Claire was saying when his world was going to pieces right now.

He thought that when he figured out who had been the one to call CPS he could call them out for lying and get the rest of the group to back him up. That he’d figure out who he could actually feel safe with and finally be able to fix at least one part of his completely messed up life.

But it hadn’t been one of them, it had been all of them. They’d torn his life apart and kept it a secret. They lied to him. Every day. For over a month.

Heat shot through him, flooding through his whole body until it felt like every ounce of blood in his veins was boiling.

It was his friends all along. All of them. They threw him and his mom under the bus and then they lied about it.

All the fear, all the worry. His inability to sleep or keep food down, the fact that his hair was falling out.

It was all because of them.

For the first time in weeks Jim wasn’t scared, he was pissed as hell.

“I can’t believe you guys!”

They all jerked back, eyes wide, shocked at the volume of his outburst.

“All of you knew about this,” Jim felt nails stabbing into his palms from the force he was clenching his hands “And you lied to me about it for over a month!? How could you!?”

He was spitefully glad to see them all flinch and look deeply ashamed at that.

“Look Jim,” Toby started to speak “I know you must be angry, but--”

He shriveled into silence under the glare Jim gave him.

How dare he. How dare he try and pretend like any of this was ok. The girls he could sort of see, but Toby was practically family. His mom had done more for Toby than anyone else would have in the same situation.

And Toby had still sold them out, with Claire, Darci, and Mary giving a helping hand.

Jim slowly turned to glare at each of them, the heat rushing over him blazing even hotter as he saw their pained faces and slumped shoulders.

Had they had secret meetings talking about this without him, had they laughed, snickering about being able to keep him fooled for so long.

Somehow a cold dribble of guilt managed to seep in past the white hot fire in his belly.

Even as blindingly furious as he was, for both himself and his mom, deep down Jim knew that wasn’t true. The reason they made the call was because they felt they had no choice.

They hadn’t done this as a joke, they were worried, they’d done this because they were scared for him. They’d done this because they wanted to help.

But despite knowing that, despite knowing that he was taking this too far and was going to regret everything he was saying as soon as he cooled off, Jim was too angry to care.

“I told you guys. My mom. Doesn’t. Hurt me.” he got louder and louder with every word, until he was practically shouting, the raging inferno inside him demanding to be set free “Don’t you get it? She could get arrested because of this, I could get taken away. Did you even think about that at all!?”

Toby shot up out of his seat with a bang, cutting off Jim’s tirade. Glancing up at him out of sheer reflex, he saw that Toby had the edge of the table in a whiteknuclekd grip, every muscle in his body taut and trembling, eyes sharp as knives.

“No Jim. You don’t get to do that.” his voice was cold and harder than steel, harder than anything he’d ever heard coming out of Toby’s mouth “You don’t get to drop bombs like your mom locking you in the basement and expect us to pretend like everything’s ok. And you don’t get to act like we’re the bad guys for trying to help you,”

Jim found himself taking an involuntary step back. He’d never heard Toby this angry. Ever.

Prying his hands free, Toby stomped around the table towards him, Jim pinned in place under his molten gaze “You don’t get to talk about lying when you were the one who’s been lying all along. When you’ve been lying to me for years!”

“Tobes I--”

One look from Toby shut him up.

“But now you want to play honesty hour? Fine, we’ll play honesty hour. How did you really get those scars on your ankle?”

The bottom fell out of Jim’s stomach, taking every remaining drop of anger with it.

“.........what?”

“Well?” Toby stopped two feet away, green eyes boring holes into him “Go on, tell me, where did those scars come from?”

Jim couldn’t do anything but gape at him. The rehearsed answer, they came from a fox bite, sat in the back of his throat withering.

He couldn’t know. It was impossible. Only two people in the world knew the truth. The act done in the dim of the early dawn in the middle of a remote forest.

Don’t worry sweetie, it's a sterile blade. A few quick cuts and a bandage on top should get you all the shots you need, no questions asked.

There was no way for Toby to know, but the look in his eyes told Jim that he did.

“How-- how--” he struggled to get the words out “How do you--”

Darci gingerly slid out of her seat to come stand next to Toby “Ok let’s all just take a deep breath and relax for a second,” she glanced over, her expression cool and professional, no longer holding any trace of guilt “Jim, I’m sorry we lied about what we did but I’m not sorry for doing it,”

“Darci’s right,” Mary stood and approached, Claire at her side “And we all agreed, what’s going on with your mom….that’s not ok, and we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. I know your mom was probably really messed up when your dad walked out, but that doesn’t mean--”

The words hit him like a fist to the gut “How do you know about that!?”

Mary shut her mouth, cheeks pink.

By now everyone in the cafeteria was turning and looking at them. And who could blame them with all the yelling. Jim knew that this was exactly the type of scene he needed to avoid, but all the emotions boiling up in his chest were too enormous and tangled and turbulent for him to make space to care about their audience.

Claire took half a step forward “Look Jim, I’m sorry we lied to you about reporting your mom, that was messed up and we shouldn’t have done it, but...” she inhaled, drawing herself up to full, regal height “But we wouldn’t have had to report her behind your back if you had just let us help you in the first place,”

“Yeah, you don’t get to talk to us about lying,” he spun back towards Mary. Hands on her hips, eyes narrowed into diamond hard points “If you had been honest with us from the beginning we wouldn’t have had to lie about anything,”

Toby stepped to the front of the group, arms folded in front of him “To more tricks or lies. We need the truth Jim. The whole truth, about everything. The scars, the basement, your curfew,” his expression was granite, voice flint “Right here, right now.”

Jim staggered back, furiously glancing at each of their faces. Claire and Darci were stern and unmoving as statues, while Toby and Mary were full on glaring daggers into him.

How was this possible? How did they know all this?

He couldn’t get enough air, chest tight as he shrunk under the weight of the four sets of eyes on him.

What else did they know? If they knew about the scars and his dad and the basement, what else did they know? And how close were they to learning….the rest?

The one tiny, microscopic flicker of hope Jim had was that he knew that they still didn’t know about….his real secret.

If they did they sure as hell wouldn’t be quiet about it.

But how close were they to figuring it out? They’d figured so much out already, it was probably only a matter of time.

And if this was how they responded to everything else, how would they react to learning that Jim was really a--

Icy daggers twisted in his gut.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He needed out now.

Jim turned and bolted, running out of the cafeteria as fast as his legs could carry him. Barely aware of his friends’ shouts from behind him. But he couldn’t outrun the panicked screaming in his skull.

They knew about his mom locking him up, they knew about how his dad left, they knew how he really got the scars on his ankle. Sooner or later they would figure out that Jim was the monster all along and when they did--

Throughout the years ideas of what would happen if people learned about his transformation had always flickered at the edge of his thoughts. Jim had done his best to force them out of his head and keep them from taking full shape, but now every horrible, twisted thought he’d had over the years surged to the front of his mind and refused to be buried.

If anyone learned his secret it was only a matter of time until the government found out, and when they did they wouldn’t just let him run free. Jim’s blue form was an unknown; wild, dangerous. At the very least they’d lock him in a cell and throw away the key. Or maybe they would send him off to some secret lab to get dissected and analyzed piece by piece.

His breath became choppy and ragged as he raced down the hall.

Or maybe Jim was too dangerous to leave alive at all, maybe they’d drag him away for a long drive into the desert that ended with a bullet to the back of his skull.

And his mom--

A jagged lump spouted in his throat.

Would they lock her up to? For keeping his secret as long as she did. But she hadn’t broken any laws, maybe they’d just leave her alone? But then would they even tell her what they did with him? Or would she be left sitting alone in their house not knowing what happened to him while Jim sat in a prison cell, or got chopped to pieces in a lab, or rotted in an unmarked grave.

He could barely see the lockers rushing by him as heat built up behind his eyes. He was trembling all over now, blood rushing in his ears and scream building in the back of his throat.

Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

Jim was going to break down, he knew that. But he couldn’t let it happen in the middle of school. Not now, not again. Had to get out, go home, get somewhere safe.

Right now his secret was still under wraps, and the only way for Jim to keep those horrific ideas from becoming reality was to keep it that way.

And that meant not having another public meltdown.

Ignoring the sound of the bell, signalling other kids to start streaming into the hall, Jim scrambled up to his locker and started fumbling with the lock.

Despite his badly trembling hands he managed to get the locker open and pull his bag free, but in his haste to grab it the bag started slipping from his grip. Jim just barely caught the side in time to keep it from falling, but in doing so accidentally pulled the bag open, causing everything inside to spill out.

Jim could only watch in horror as textbooks clunked to the ground, papers scattering all over the floor, pens and pencils rolling in every direction. Insides curdling as he stared at the mess.

Why now? Why today of all days? On top of everything else--

His eyes stung.

Why couldn’t he just get a break?

Trying and failing to force himself through his breathing exercises, Jim got down on his knees and struggled to gather the contents of his bag.

Somehow his efforts to gather the papers just spread them even more, the task made impossible by how badly he was shaking all over, breath coming in quick, quivering pants, teeth digging into his lip until he tasted copper, a storm roiling just beneath his skin.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grabbing a textbook and clenching his fingers around it so tight they hurt.

Get it together. Get it together. Get it together.

“Oh my god are you crying again?”

Jim froze, inside and out, eyes shooting open to stare down at two of his pencils and the textbook he’d just grabbed off the floor. Familiar snide, smarmy voice coming from behind him.

“Dude he totally is!” Seamus said with a laugh “This is too good,”

Jim couldn’t move, nerves paralyzed. Every drop of emotion he’d had to deal with today, shock, anger, fear, and guilt, surging through him.

“Awww what’s the matter baby?” Steve jeered “Do you want a bottle?”

Seamus and Logan’s laughter echoed in his ears. From the corner of his eye he saw the traffic around them slowing as other people stopped and stared. He couldn’t feel his fingers any more, curled into rigid claws around the edges of the book.

And just like that Jim was done.

He threw his textbook against the lockers as hard as he could, unleashing a thunderous boom into the hall.

“Fuck off Steve!”

Steve, along with Logan, Seamus, and everyone else milling around in the hallway behind him, froze “What did you just say Lake?”

“You heard me Steve,” Jim growled, stomping to his feet “Fuck. Off.”

Normally he would never lose his cool with Steve, the guy just wasn’t worth it, but after everything that had happened today, everything that had happened over the last month, he just couldn’t take it any more.

And Steve thought he was such a hot shot; popular, spot on the basketball team, grades good enough to keep it but not so good to be considered a nerd. But Jim knew a lot more than Steve thought he did.

Recovering from his surprise at Jim’s outburst, Steve gave him his best sneer “Alright Crybaby you got about ten seconds to get down on your knees and apologize before I break your--”

“Oh can it Steve, like you have any business calling me crybaby when you were the one bawling in the locker room about how your daddy couldn’t come watch your big game!” Jim practically spat the words.

The smug look on Steve’s face vanished, eyes going wide and the color leeching from his skin “Wha-- how-- how did--”

“Since you can’t seem to figure it out I’ll spell it out for you, your dad doesn’t give a shit about you or your basketball games! And if you really want to make him happy go play in traffic so he doesn’t have to pay child support!”

A hush went through the crowded hall. Semus’s eyes were bugging out and Logan looked absolutely petrified; Steve himself was wearing the most hang-jawed expression Jim had ever seen.

More and more people were gathering around now, drawn by all the commotion. Jim knew it was bad to be drawing this kind of attention, especially after the stunt he just pulled on the cafeteria, but the dam inside him had burst and it felt so so good to finally let it all out.

Let someone else have the rug pulled out from under them. Let someone else feel exposed and vulnerable. Let someone else have their deepest darkest secrets thrown back in their face.

Let someone else be afraid for once. Someone who actually deserved it.

“Face it Steve you’re not special,” Jim’s voice practically dripped venom “You’re just some moron who thinks that if they dribble a basketball good enough they can get an even bigger moron to give two shits about them. It’d actually be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic,”

Even as he said the words, felt the thrill of finally being able to take Steve down a peg, a tiny trickle of guilt managed to creep in. For saying something so horrible, so wrong. That no one deserved to hear, not even Steve. But what little guilt he had was easily drowned out by the massive ocean of vindictive glee he felt now that Psycho Steve was getting to experience a tiny piece of what it was like to be Jim Lake.

The crowd around them was deathly quiet now, everyone stunned into silence by Jim’s words. Shocked that he actually went there. With one exception.

Steve’s face had gone from ghost white to purple, the veins in his neck bulging, hands balled into fists as his sides “You’d better shut your mouth Lake,” his voice was soft but dangerous. Everyone, even Logan and Seamus, nervously edging away from him.

Unfortunately for him Jim just didn’t care anymore.

“Or what?”

He stepped forward, unable to resist poking the bear “You gonna punch me in the face or something? Well go on, do it! You’re only mad because I’m right!”

Another rush of spiteful satisfaction coursed through him when Jim saw the purple flush on Steve’s face darken even further at his words, so much that he didn’t even care that some of the onlookers had started to pull out their phones.

“Well what are you waiting for? Hit me, punch me, it’s not gonna make a difference. It’s not going to change the fact that you’re a loser who’s life has fucking peaked!” he jabbed a finger into Steve’s chest, getting right up into his face “That the only thing you have going for you is a spot on the basketball team. And after that all you have to look forward to is a dead end job at the gas station and at least two divorces!”

Steve was practically quivering with anger now, nostrils flaring, teeth clenched so hard he was surprised they hadn’t cracked, but Jim could still see the flash of genuine hurt in his eyes “I’m warning you Lake--”

“Because that’s all you’ll ever be, a loser! Maybe the real reason your dad left was because he finally figured out how much of a loser you really--”

The blow took him by surprise, more than it probably should have. A dazzling flash of pain in his temple that snapped his head back into the lockers with a deafening bang as more pain flared in the back of his skull. Hot stars danced in his vision, the world around him spinning,.

Jim vaguely registered that he wasn’t on his feet anymore, felt the linoleum under his back, the cool metal behind his shoulders and neck. Dimly heard the panicked shouts coming up from around him, even though he couldn’t make out the words.

Blinking past the throbbing pain in his skull, and the warm trickle of something in his eye, Jim’s sight cleared just long enough for him to see Steve’s face, twisted into a mask of primal rage, and another fist rapidly approaching.

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #A Secret's Worth #fanfic #rmvwrites #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #darci scott #toby domzalski #mary wang #language #violence #death mention #dissection mention

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batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 2 (Jason Todd x Reader)

The dumbass that I am misspelled counselor in the last part. forgive me. Also reply below if you recognize the first scene from the one it’s inspired by in Victorious!

WORDS: 3473 WARNINGS: FLUFFY FLUFFY FLUFFYYYYYY

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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

“E-excuse me, Y/N?”

A scared little voice. One you’d easily miss if you had been listening to anything more interesting, or if Ms. Peterson allowed you to wear earphones while you worked. But the voice was right there, coming from right behind you. You turned around with your brows scrunched up to the center of your forehead.

“Uhm, I’m Jake. From Math C-class.”

The boy was visibly shaking. You kept looking at him, making sure he knew his presence was an annoyance while you had a whole cart of yellowing books for you to go through. Jake gulped. “You uhm. Borrowed my notes.”

You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes.

“Can I have them back please?”

Eyes widened. Nostrils flared. And not even after a split second, Jake started to back away. “I-I’m sorry. I meant uhm. You can keep them! Oh, fuck-“

He started to back away, your deathly glare locked onto him, but something stopped his back from going any further. Something much larger than he was. He turned around, craned his head up, and saw Jason Todd standing over him.

“J-Jason?!” The boy was practically going white by now. “Shit. Shit. I-I’m so sorry. I’ll go now.”

“Wait. Here.”

And he held out his hand, which was holding a dark red notebook. Jake instantly froze, looking at Jason’s calm expression, then at you. You were no longer looking at Jake. Your eyes were locked on Jason. And you looked positively furious.

“Thank y-you.” Before he could catch your eye, he ran out of the library, clutching the notebook to his chest and violently pushing everyone in his way.

Your unwilling partner turned to you, then went back to pull out his cart. He came back up from a corner, with his own cart almost empty. Todd placed a book on the same shelf you were working.

“I WILL SLAM THE SPINES OF THESE BOOKS RIGHT INTO YOUR EYE SOCKETS UNTIL YOU BLEED OUT YOUR INTESTINES, TODD-”

A shush from the librarian’s desk that was blocked by the shelves in your way. You didn’t respond to the old woman. Your jaw was clenched, your sharp, black nails digging into the book covers. Jason calmly took the book away from you before you’d tear it apart.

“YOU WENT THROUGH MY FUCKING BAG.”

“I didn’t. You left it on the desk right over there. Didn’t think you’d care if I gave it back when you obviously didn’t need them anymore.”

“You know. Never mind these books. I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands.”

“You don’t have the strength or the will to do that.”

“I’ve done the same to someone else in eighth grade, you little shit. Watch me.”

Jason’s cart was empty by the time you finished that sentence. Instead of turning away, or even flinch in surprise, he folded his arms and looked down at you. “I know you think everyone in this fucking school bends to your every whim. But I have news for you, kid.”

He craned his head to near his face to yours. So close you could inhale his musky scent. You stood solid on your feet and didn’t do so much as back away. You looked at him dead in the eye.

“You don’t scare me.”

“You don’t know me just yet.”

Your voices were whispers. “You can try fuck all. I’ve seen much worse.”

And you could see the look of his eyes. There was no trace of fear or hesitance. He slowly backed away with a smirk when he saw you didn’t even have a snarky response to that. The glare you had on would’ve sent anyone else trembling. But all Jason did was pick up a book from your cart and placed it on a shelf you wouldn’t have otherwise reached.

“I’ll help you. You’re awfully slow at this.”

The amount of times your eyes rolled because of this kid’s response to you was astronomical. And it had only been a week working with him.

“Excuse me for not wanting to clean up after people.”

“Just do it. Faster.” He handed you a book, which you roughly snatched away from his hands with a loud grunt. You walked over to the other side of the shelf and placed it on an empty space. “You’re doing better. But you still put Conan Doyle’s in the True Crime shelf.”

“The what?”

“Conan Doyle. The detective books. God, you really should know about this stuff.”

“I fucking know about Sherlock Holmes, asshole.”

He picked up a pile of three books with a single large hand and placed it on the most bottom shelf. “Then why do I keep re-shelving your screw ups? This one goes there.” He hands you a book, and you quickly got it from him without giving him another glance.

“Whatever.”

“Let’s just go through the carts one by one. Together. It’s easier that way.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“You want our jobs to be easier? Or do you wanna spend another hour in this shithole?”

You angrily grabbed a book by its spine and shoved it into a tight shelf. You grabbed the cart, turning it to the opposite side of the shelf, to which he trailed close by. You almost hit him with the wheel of your cart, but Jason backed away in time. His glare was just as devious as yours just a minute ago, and you shrugged at him, smirking, before going back to work.

You continued to work in silence. Your cart was still halfway done, and you had another hour in the library before you were allowed to go home. Pursing your lips, focusing on the book covers, re-shelving the ones you were already familiar with and glancing at the pages of a few of them, you worked faster through your cart while Jason started with the shelf behind you.

The window was lighting up his face. And you hadn’t seen it earlier today until now. A new bruise was at his cheekbone, higher up than the one that got him sent to the office. It was darker and looked even more painful. Gotten himself in another fight, perhaps. But if that were the case, you’d have definitely heard about it. You went about the halls with your eyes peeled just to catch any sort of action you regretfully missed. Jason took more time with the books, skimming them before gently placing them back.

You picked up five chemistry books from the cart and walked over two shelves away so you could come back for the cart later. Placing them on the floor, you started to arrange the mess on the shelves, just as a girl came up behind you.

“Y/N?”

Penny’s sweet voice was enough to startle you. A friend. One of the few you’d actually hang out with. Even after just two months ago, you sent this poor girl crying to the counsellor’s office after you repeatedly called her an idiot while working on your partnered assignment.

“What?”

“Why are you arranging books?”

“Huh,” you cocked your hip. “Never realized I didn’t get to tell you.”

“What happened?”

You turned over to her, slamming the cover of the book flat against your palm. “VP’s attempt at a punishment after a week ago. Meet your fucking library assistant.”

“Wow,” she clutched at her books on her chest. “Is Jason Todd working with you as well?”

Your disgusted grunt didn’t even startle Penny. “Don’t get me started on that guy.”

“I saw the fight he was in. Did you?”

“No, but dammit I really fucking wanted to. What happened?”

You continued with your books, and Penny leaned against the shelf. “Don’t mess up my fucking shelves, Penny.”

You roughly pushed her shoulder away and she flinched. “Jeez. Sorry.”

“Tell me. What happened?”

“Well,” she looked at the ground. “I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Jason suddenly punched him in the face and almost knocked Brandon out. He fought back, but Jason is really… something. Brandon barely landed a hit, and Jason just kept beating him up to a bloody pulp. Didn’t even stop even when he was on the ground.”

“Jesus.” You looked over the shelves to find Jason. “Yeah. I saw Brandon. That was quite the damage.”

Penny looked at the same direction as you. Now you really wished you were there to see that fight. “He just came back from the hospital. His nose had get reconstructed.”

It eventually made sense. How Jason practically stood off with you and threatened you with your own will.

“I’d be careful around him, Y/N.”

“Please. Have I ever been afraid of anyone?”

“No. But he probably isn’t either.”

You rolled your eyes for the nth time that day, refusing to tell Penny your confrontation with Jason. She tapped your shoulder. “See you tomorrow. Good luck with the shelving.”

You nodded at her, then she left. Finishing the last book, you made your way back to the cart where Jason was standing, eyes glued to a dusty old book you couldn’t see the title of. Going through the books left in your cart, you coughed.

“Got into another fight, Todd?”

“Huh?” he looked up, then his fingers grazed against his own cheek. “Oh. Yeah. I guess.”

“Next time you pick a fight, make sure I’m at my free period.”

“Shut up.”

You chuckled. “What did Brandon say to you?”

“None of your business.”

“I told you what happened to me, asshole. Now it’s your turn.”

He went back to his book. He went through your cart fast. And about twenty of them were left for you to shelf. You kept at it, and Jason snarled at you.

“That guy’s an asshole. You know that?”

“Yeah.”

“No one saw him talk shit at me while I was at lunch. That’s when I lunged at him. That fucker deserved it.”

Strangely satisfied, you shrugged. You folded your arms and he leaned against the shelf on his shoulder, looking at you.

“I’ve thrown a few punches at him myself. Once or twice.”

“What’d he do to you?”

“He had the balls to hit on me two years ago. Aggressively.”

A breath of air escaped his nostrils. And he looked amused listening to you even. “Of course you would.” He ran a hand across his hair, and you got a better look of his eyes.

4:30. And only five books left in the cart. You threw the one you had on your hand back into the pile and waves your hands in the air. “You got the rest, don’t you Todd?”

He just stared at you after you didn’t give him a chance to pounce back, walking out of the library before the second hand reached the number 12. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you walked out the school and got your phone from your pocket.

Just as you were about to call your mom, you got a text from her.

‘Dad is here, Y/N. He’ll pick you up in a few mins.’

The smirk you had on your face died down in an instant. You almost wanted to throw your phone at the ground, but you paid too much money for that. So you settled with your foot violently landing at a metal trashcan that was unfortunate enough to be near you at the time. It crashed onto the ground and the garbage flew out of it all over the mowed grass. You stormed out into the sidewalk without catching anyone else’s eye.

‘don’t bother. I’ll walk home.’ You replied.

A thirty-minute walk didn’t seem to be much work anymore.

-----

“Now.” Ms. Peterson’s shaky hands placed a cart full of books on Jason’s side of the table, with you sitting right across from him, and she wheeled over an empty cart to you, then placed a clipboard on top.

“These were returned this week. I haven’t got the energy to do these myself. So you two oughtta do it. List these down and watch out for any damages. These kids read like they’re tossing them around the fucking house.”

You’ve never heard an old woman swear until that day.

“Take them back to the shelves when you're done. And make sure you finish today.”

She was getting grouchier by the second. You scoffed at her and picked up an old book from the pile. “How are we supposed to look for new damages? These are older than I am.”

“Just look for any crumples on the covers, and flip through them if you see any rips.”

His thumb went through a whole book in seconds and he gave the book back to you. “That one’s clean. Place it back to the cart.”

“Just give me that.”

You took the clipboard and clicked on a pen. “I’ll list them down. Tell me if they’re any good.”

“Fine. Fundamentals of Statistics. All good.”

You ticked the box on the clipboard beside the title and got the book from his hand, placing it on the cart. While you did that, he picked up another, went through the cover, flipped through the pages, then gave it to you. “Tenth Grade Chemistry. All good.”

Another tick. You placed it on the cart and it went on and on for several books. Jason knew exactly what to look for. Any bent spines, creased covers, he looked at those books, especially the old literature ones you’d often see him skim through every day. You held out a hand for him to give you the next one, but he was busy reading a page from a Shakespearean poetry collection.

Jason was a complete nerd. Even when his demeanor clearly didn’t look like it. You wanted to laugh at him if he didn’t actually look cute with his nose scrunched up like that. You’ve also made fun of that side of him so much within a span of a few days that it just got boring by now. Instead of a chuckle, you smiled.

“Dude.”

“Sorry.” He gave the book to you. “All good.”

Just as you placed it on the cart, he brought up a book with a torn cover and his face almost broken in disgust.

“I know. What an animal.”

He placed the book on the side like it was toxic waste and sneered. “Take note of that.”

That’s when you laughed. He just scowled at you while he continued with the next one. You finished through the pile with 45 minutes to spare, which was all the time you had to place these back on the shelves.

You both got up from the table and Jason pushed the cart with you leading the way. Starting with the science books, you started to loosen up the shelves.

“Getting the hang of this, Y/N?”

“Don’t get used to this. We still have nine weeks. By the end of this you’d be repulsed at the sight of paper.”

“I read everyday, just so you know. And I have a library of my own. Jokes on you.”

“An asshole and a huge geek. You’ve really got it all.”

“Funny.”

You were faster with the shelving, definitely. But you weren’t proud of it.

“You should at least try with Edgar Allan Poe. If you like all those dark, spooky stuff.”

“What makes you think I like… that?”

He almost wanted to laugh. “You're covered in black and your eyeliner’s about as dark as a crayon.”

“And you're just about as bright as daisies, right Todd?”

“I didn’t mean to insult you. Chill out. Not everyone’s out to get you.”

You… kept silent.

“Here.” He went to the shelf near you and picked out a small book. On the cover was a face of a thin man with a funny mustache and a black bird, a raven most probably, perched on his shoulder.

“Poe’s one of the best there is. Just go through it.”

Reluctantly, and with nothing catty for you so lash out on when you’ve never even had a conversation like this, you looked at him and slowly took the book from his hand.

“We don’t have to tell Mother Goose over there.”

Ms. Peterson was busy playing solitaire on her computer. You turned back to Jason, then at the book, a hand going over the cover. Helping Jason with the cart, you’ve basically circled the whole library, finishing most of the pile.

4:35. That was a first.

With the final books on the shelf, and almost no one left in the library except you, Jason, Mother Goose, and about two other kids sleeping on the tables. You leaned your back against the shelf and started reading the first story of Poe’s collection. The Murders of Rue Morgue. You’d never admit it. Not right now. But the title alone intrigued you.

“You just gonna leave me to finish your work, Y/N?”

“Not telling you to do anything, Todd.”

You kept your silence with your eyes glued into the book and Jason kept with the shelves. Almost no one was left in the library, but you didn’t feel the need to rush home tonight.

Maybe not for a while. Not with him back at home.

The light on the pages were shaded by a dark shadow, and when you looked up, you stood frozen. Jason smelled nice. And you could smell him even better now that you were squished between him and the shelf, your eye level right at the veins of his neck. His arm was reached out to the shelf way above your head and you pressed the book flat against your chest. He shoved the book in place, then he looked down at you, meeting your eyes. His face was so fucking close to your own, and he didn’t even move after he’s shoved the book in place. His arm lowered, looking at you, and his features were soft. You’ve never seen a jaw that defined until that very moment.

Holy fuck, he’s so cute.

Slower. Even slower. He pulled away. Or it might have been just a split second. You could barely tell the difference.

“You’re in the way.”

You managed to just nonchalantly look back into your book, ignoring his longing stare at you when he leaned over the cart.

“I’ve heard of this guy before,” you said, steering away his attention on you and back to the book. “I heard his work gets really dark.”

“So you do like that kind of stuff?”

“Mostly movies,” you smirked. “I’ve watched the Exorcism of Emily Rose more times than I’ve been sent to the VP’s office.”

He laughed at that, pressing his hand against the shelf.

“You’ll enjoy that book, then.”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “We’ll see.”

But you found your attention drawn back to the book yet again. A longer while passed, and Jason wheeled the now empty cart to the side before walking back to you.

“You’re not eager to go home today.”

Your teeth went over your lips, keeping your attention to the words.

“So?”

“I saw you. You were walking home yesterday.”

“It’s my choice. It’s not a big deal.”

“I also saw you mutilate a trash can.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just leave me alone.”

“Is everything alright at home?”

“Todd, I swear you’ll realize how much I’ve been holding back punching you in the face for a whole week.”

“You might not have known. But I came from an abusive family myself before Bruce Wayne took me in. I know neglectful parents when I see it.”

You really wanted to punch him this time. For real. Just one to the face. It shouldn’t hurt that bad. For you, anyways.

“Didn’t know you were fucking loaded.”

“I’m not.” He reached out his hand to you. “Give me your phone.”

“TODD.”

There was no one to shush you now, but even your slightly raised voice didn’t back Jason down. He scoffed at you then settled for a piece of paper ripped from the clipboard. He took the pen and wrote something down.

“Those are two numbers. Mine and a help hotline. I don’t take these things lightly. You might be a pain, but not even you deserve to go through that.”

Even more. In just a few weeks, one guy has made you speechless more times than anyone else has in years. Again, you had no insult to hurl or a sarcastic comment that would’ve naturally came to you otherwise.

You took the paper and placed it between the pages of your book. Then you leaned against the shelf, staring blankly at the ground.

“I’m not being abused.” Your voice has never been lighter. “But… thanks.”

“You better start heading home by now.”

He walked out the door, and eventually, you followed.

You finished the entire book that night. And the day after, you read it twice.

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I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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