#shook my worldview

[vampireghostlawyer]

should i get into pathologic

[calypsolemon]

I love exploring the concept of objects or concepts or characters that gain sentience through our imagination bc to me it's is always ultimately about externalizing a dialogue with the Self imo. We can only perceive the world through our own minds, our own thoughts, our own assumptions and conclusions. We have imaginations to practice our reactions to real people and real events, its an element of our minds processing the world around us, like dreams process memory when we sleep. So why wouldn't that make the things we imagine Alive and Real, to some extent? The entire world is already contained within us.

[mcskullmun]

Just had the shocking revelation that I didn’t get worse at school, school got harder

[shipsarebeautiful]

I would just like to sit down and have a chat with the person who made the Shu Itsuki character AI because why did he tell me he’s cishet?! That is the GAYEST man ever, what is he on about-

[cowboysmp3]

sorry not to continue to talk about ace attorney but during AA2 when edgeworth comes back and is like oh no stupid wright u will simply never understand me and my motives u can’t get it u can’t comprehend it IS HE TALKING ABOUT PERSUING THE TRUTH??? THE THING THAT PHOENIX TOLD HIM TO DO IN TJE FIRST PLACE???

[officialrapunzelfitzherbert]

been watching this show for approximately 13 years and just found out giles lived in an apartment and not a house. this whole time

[fagandordyke]

my king there has never been the word “zombie” in we will rock you 😯

Oh my god... I just went to azlyrics for this and I guess you're right??? shit fuck. that would have been a rad line though. jettison me back to 1977 I'll make them famous

[grandline-fics]

Shifting Focus

DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you differently

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Kid, Smoker | Sanji, Law

WORDS: 2,850

A/N: Another part of this in honour of reaching 500 followers. This was my first time writing for Smoker so here's hoping you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

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

SHANKS

Everyone knew Shanks was a flirt, a laidback charmer who always had a smile and a wink at the ready for the next pretty face he came across. No-one was meant to really take it seriously, to see anything that happened to be more than what it was, a fleeting moment of enjoyment for both sides. Serious feelings never truly came into play, it was easier that way given that he was always on the move. To let anyone believe he was the settling down type would have been cruel and he didn’t find any enjoyment in hurting people needlessly, unless they were his enemy of course. Everyone in the crew were more than used to his mannerisms, yourself included. You could understand his worldview on the matter however you never entertained him when he chose to flirt with you. Something that he finally started to notice and when he did, he couldn’t let it go. 

“Do I repulse you?” He asked suddenly one evening causing you to choke on your coffee. Your body tensed and you forced the liquid down your throat, wincing at the painful burn it caused and sharp tightness in your throat. You’d needed it to stay awake for your night shift but after that, you set the mostly untouched mug aside. Looking to your side you saw your captain staring at you intently, a small pout playing at his lips making you believe he was picking his words carefully to seem like he was keeping the conversation light. However underneath the joking you could tell there was a real question there. 

“If you repulsed me Cap, I wouldn’t have joined your crew, now would I?” You answered, looking back down to the sea chart in your hands, needing to keep track of any notable features coming into view. “What is it you really want to ask me?”

“I’ve noticed something about you.” Shanks began, scowling when you looked away from him to continue your work. You were always so task-oriented and levelheaded that even when you were joking with another member of the crew, you were still focused on what was needed to be done. Finally you looked up at Shanks again, eyebrows raised slightly to invite him to keep talking. “You don’t flirt back.” 

For a moment you had to think about what Shanks was getting at but finally you let out a laugh and lightly rolled your eyes. So he was in that kind of mood today. For a moment he almost had you by making you believe he was asking you a semi-serious question. Still smiling in amusement you shook your head and turned to go inside when a wind started to pick up. If you lost the charts in your hand it wouldn’t have been good. What you weren’t expecting was Shanks to follow you, with a sigh you settled down at your desk and sat back to stare at your captain who clearly wasn’t finished with this joke and you weren’t going to get any peace until you indulged him. “Am I being reprimanded for my lack of flirtation towards you, Cap? I’m surprised it’s affected you so much given how you’re never without company.”

“You flirt with the others on board.” Shanks pointed out, not really knowing why it was getting to him so much. Ever since he’d realised you’d joke around and tease the others on board but not him, it just kept gnawing at him. Shanks knew he shouldn’t get so irritated by it all but he just couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer until he was leaning of the edge of your desk, staring down at your calm expression. “So why not me?”

“I flirt with the others because it’s not serious and they know that.” You shrugged lightly, leaning back to regard your captain, a smile slowly pulling at your lips. “You, however are a different story, Cap.” With a breathy sigh you rose from your seat and Shanks’ earlier position meant you were now standing mere inches away from him, not quite touching but close enough for the warmth of your body to radiate into his. “If I gave in and flirted with you…I don’t think I’d be able to stop it as just a joke. I don’t have the same self-control that you do.” You murmured, tilting your head up slightly so your breath could softly dance against his skin. Satisfied that that should be enough for your Captain’s need for the joke to end you took a step back and grinned before sitting down at your desk. 

With your presence no longer engulfing his, Shanks blinked and immediately wanted more. More of that rush, that spark, more of you. However fate had other plans when Lucky Roux called for him and he had to do his duties as the Captain. Sharply letting out a huff of annoyance, Shanks reluctantly left your side to head onto the deck. When he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and see your attention already drawn back to your work. Yeah, this was far from over.  

KID

There was never a dull moment on the Victoria Punk. Even on the calm days at sea, the heavy steps of the Captain and the usual tone of conversation was carried at a volume louder than some other ships were used to. But that was what you liked about it. It was only when the ship was deathly quiet outside of sleeping hours that any of you felt the need to worry. The seas were calm and laughter surrounded you all as you sat in the living quarters with plenty of drink to see you all through to morning if you wanted. 

Currently you were all playing a game with the bounty posters you’d all seemed to collect. It was a simple enough form of ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ by selecting three posters from the pile however each person that had to answer ended up getting drawn into a fierce debate about their answers. If you didn’t want to answer on your turn however, you had to drink. It was an empty punishment since all of you were drinking happily regardless. 

“Look I stand by my answer okay?!” Wire shouted, unable to keep the grin from his face knowing the argument was in good spirits. “I had the worst draw out of them all so far, you guys have been getting it easy.”

“Just hurry up and pick my three okay?” You grinned, sitting up from your lounged position to get a better look for your turn. Wire reached over to the pile of posters lying face down on the table and picked three at random, slowly flipping them over to reveal Blackbeard, Franky, and Bartolomelo. Grinning you sat back down into your previous position. “Kiss Bartolomelo, Marry Franky, Kill Blackbeard. Easy.”

“Not that I’d argue with the decisions, you just made up your mind so quickly…” Killer noted, a grin in his voice as his face remained hidden by his mask. You rolled your eyes and grinned. 

“Nothing to think about, Blackbeard is…ugh” you suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of the Emperor. “Franky is dependable and skilled, and fun from what we saw when we allied with them so marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“You didn’t think about Bartolomelo as marriage material?” Kid asked with a grin and you laughed up at your Captain who you’d been leaning against for a majority of the night. 

“No way, he’s a major Strawhat fanboy. I’d be competing against that entire crew for his attention, sadly we just weren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, you’re real heartbroken about it I see.” Kid laughed along with you and the others. The game continued for another while, some of the crew stopping from being too drunk to stay awake while others began to head for their quarters. Those remaining all agreed this would be the last round and it meant you were to deal out three posters for Kid. 

You were still far too comfortable lounging against your Captain so you quickly reached over, fumbling you flipped over the first three you could get your hands on and flopped back before even seeing who he had to choose from. From the sound of the stifled laughter you could tell his options were going to be good. With an anticipated grin you turned on your side and pushed yourself up with your elbow only to become surprised to see your bounty on the table along with Buggy the Clown and Nico Robin. You couldn’t help but become curious about what your Captain would pick about you although you supposed as long as he didn’t pick you to kill it was all fine, it was just a game after all. 

Kid suddenly felt tense and couldn’t help but look away from your printed face to the physical version of you. The you he suddenly became all too aware of. You’d been part of the crew forever and he’d never needed to see you as anything other than a valued member like the others. What if he said something that made you uncomfortable. But if he didn’t play then you could misread that too and make things worse. Fuck, why was he overthinking this? He had to finish the game and hope nothing more was said about it. “Kill the clown and kiss Robin.” He muttered quickly before looking away and draining the last of the alcohol in his mug. 

“Aww you wanna marry me?” You cooed, the smile growing wider on your face. With everyone satisfied with a good ending to the game, the crew began to clear up their drinks and the bounty posters and move to turn in for the night. You got up with a groan and stretched out your arms, finally feeling the need to rest too. With a yawn you turned to Kid who was still sitting and smiled softly. “Not heading to bed, Kid?”

“Yeah, heading soon.” He grumbled lost in his own thoughts that were now occurring to him and you tilted your head, a frown falling on your lips. Quickly Kid realised you were going to worry and he recovered enough to smirk at you. “We need our rest, right? We’ve got a wedding to plan huh?” He forced the joke out, relieved to see you laugh and leave while wishing the rest in the room goodnight. When you were gone, Kid glared at Killer who was sitting far too relaxed for his liking. “When did you add their bounty to the pile, Kil?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and you have no way of proving it.” 

SMOKER

“Vice Admiral?” You paused in the middle of the G-5 Base corridor when you spotted the base commander leaning against the wall with his office just a few feet away. At the sound of your call he made no sign that he’d heard you. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone of his rank to get lost in thought especially if there were certain higher ups breathing down their neck or certain pirates occupying their minds. Adjusting the documents in your hands you approached the base commander. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” You asked again and moved to lightly touch his arm to get his attention. 

At the same time, Smoker turned sharply and knocked into your hand causing you to drop your files in surprise. As the papers fluttered to the floor you kept your gaze on Smoker, concern growing in your eyes. His usual steely gaze seemed to have dimmed and you noticed the small tremor in his otherwise imposing frame. As one of the base’s medical staff your critical, scrutinising stare was pinpointing all that stood out to you. Since you were dealing with the commander himself, you felt you had to be somewhat nicer and couldn’t just order him to rest. “Are you sick?” You asked and immediately his stare sharpened at the implication. 

“I’m fine.” Smoker’s answer was gruff as to be expected but you could hear the slight shake that could have been missed had you not been listening out for it. When he saw you weren’t fooled he finally took a proper look at you and through his mind that was getting foggier by the second he managed to recognise who you were and what department you worked for on the base. Inwardly he cursed his bad luck. He’d been trying to get to the safety of his office but a dizzy spell hit him hard and he had to stop to catch his breath just mere seconds before you’d approached him. Smoker didn’t want to be babied, getting sick was a rarity for him. He just wanted to get to his room and sit there in peace until he felt a little better. No one else had noticed his state all day, why did he get cursed with bad luck like this at the final moment? He just needed to get rid of you before you tried to take a closer look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick up your documents?”

“Well since you're not sick and are partly responsible for me dropping them. You can surely help me lift them, right Vice Admiral?” Your question was so sweet and innocent but still Smoker glared at the challenge in your eyes. In any of his previous interactions with you, you’d seemed so reserved and quiet but now he could see another side to you. With a grunt, Smoker lowered himself to the floor, trying to fight the wave of dizziness and aches rolling down his body. Mentally he cursed you as you smoothly crouched down and started collecting sheets at a pace far faster than he was able to. When Smoker was focused on the task you’d given him, you struck. Your hand touched his forehead before he could react and you scowled at the man in disapproval. “You’re burning up with a fever. You’re going to your room and resting.” 

Your order left no room for disagreement and before Smoker’s mind could truly catch up, he found himself walking into his room with you. When he was lying on his bed you set about gathering what was needed to help his fever and aches before making yourself comfortable at his desk to fix the scattered documents into their right files again. From the small layer of dust gathering on the surface you could tell Smoker didn’t use it much, being a man of action over paperwork. “You don’t need to stay, I’m fine.” Smoker grumbled. 

“The second I leave, you’ll rest for an hour at most and call yourself cured. I’m not leaving until I’m happy you’re actually fine.”

“An hour is all I need.”

“Didn’t know you had a medical degree.” You noted dryly. “Do I call you Doctor Vice Admiral Smoker or Vice Admiral Doctor Smoker?” It surprised you when Smoker’s deep laugh rumbled through the air and a small smile graced your lips at the sound. Perhaps he should laugh more, it was a nice sound and it would help make him more approachable to some people. 

“You can call me whatever you want.” Smoker mumbled, it wasn’t often people stood up to him like this and he had to admit it was refreshing to see. Unable to fight it, Smoker yawned as his body was beginning to give in to its need for rest. When you heard the telltale signs of him falling asleep you let out a sigh of relief that the medicine you’d given him was started to take effect. 

In the early hours of the morning, Smoker stirred at the soft feeling of fingers lightly running through his hair. It was a comforting feeling and still under the haze of sleep that hadn’t fully left him, his mind hadn’t properly caught up so he let himself relax into the feeling. Reaching up he curled his fingers around your wrist holding your hand in place as his eyes slowly opened and met your face. 

“Your fever’s finally regulated.” You informed him gently, keeping mindful of the time and not wanting to speak too loudly. “If you promise to drink more fluids and stay in bed until at least late morning I can leave.”

“I promise, thanks Doc.” Smoker mumbled with a half-smile, stifling a small yawn and letting his eyes fall closed again but when he didn’t hear you leave he opened his eyes again to see you still standing there. “Problem?”

“Um, kinda need my hand back…or did you want me to stay?” you laughed softly, trying to hold back the grin when Smoker tensed and quickly let go of your wrist, allowing you to leave. “Remember your promise.” You reminded him as you left, smiling to yourself as you left to your room with the memory of Smoker’s blushing, embarrassed expression fresh in your mind. You had to admit it was pretty cute to see. 

[ratinayellowbandana]

Hound "baby boy" of Ill Omen for prompts!

first off, thank you for carrying this whole ship on your back. you are our strongest soldier and we appreciate you.

second, even more thanks for sending this my way! I hope this is something like what you had in mind!

if anyone else sees this and would like to toss a little prompt my way, feel free :)

wc: 934

cw: body horror…kind of? it’s just canonically what the good boy looks like

~~~

Imogen loves Laudna. She does. Quite a lot, in fact.

Because it is a fact. 

It may as well be written in stone. In the stars. Recorded on one of those dusty scrolls in elegant script and stuck on a shelf in some stuffy library for the next bored student who may happen across it and learn of two witches who saved the world.

Laudna, it must be noted, is a woman of many quirks. 

And Imogen, it must be noted, adores her for them. 

They are just as much a part of Laudna as the angle of her nose, the brightness in her eyes. As are her projects, macabre and scrounged as they often are, and so Imogen adores them, too. 

(If it takes her a moment to come around, Laudna must never know. Each new creation, presented to Imogen with all the glee of a child in a sweets shop, will only ever be met with enthusiasm. Laudna, she knows, has spent too long squirreling away the odd parts of herself. Imogen is determined to recover them.)

“Come here, darling,” Laudna calls, and the flesh-and-bone creature that scared the everloving fuck out of Imogen the first time he burst from his maker’s chest trots happily to her side, tongue lolling from a fleshless snout. 

The hound twines between Laudna’s legs, and she lifts her skirts to allow him through. He leans heavily against the inside of her knee, and Laudna beams. She bends at the waist to wrap the creature in spindly arms. His back arches, and Imogen can hear the vertebrae curving, clacking, as Laudna scratches behind his one intact ear. The ichor-tipped remnant of a tail begins to wag, shaking them both with the force of it.

He spots Imogen several paces away, and his green eyes glow, peering at her curiously.

Laudna has stopped her scritches, and the hound tilts his big head. Laudna looks up, meets Imogen’s fond gaze, and her lips split into a wide grin.

“Go on,” she pats the creature’s sides encouragingly, “say hello if you like.”

The hellhound bounds forward, released from his command. 

Imogen recalls the day he learned his tricks.

Laudna had found Imogen lounging beneath a copse of trees one afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to sink, casting the forest in dappled shades of orange and gold. The festering hound loped diligently at her heels. His paws colored the leaf-strewn ground iridescent black in their wake. 

“Look!” Laudna had said, chest puffed. She turned to her newest creation and pointed one finger. “You’ve been so obedient all afternoon. I’ll see about giving you something from my collection if your other mom approves of your skills. I should have a deer leg that will suit you nicely.” She contemplated for a moment. “Ready?” 

The hound stretched into a bow, muscle snapping over exposed bone, yawned, and shook. Drops of blood and ichor spattered the clearing, but Imogen hardly noticed, too caught up in Laudna’s casual statement. 

She had said it nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just gifted Imogen something extraordinarily precious. As if Imogen’s senses hadn’t suddenly gone askew. As if she hadn’t just sent Imogen’s worldview slip-sliding into something new and dangerous and so welcome that it felt like a homecoming. Her mind spun until she was almost giddy with it. She wondered, then, how something said so simply could feel so significant. If Laudna understood what she had done. 

She had appointed Imogen the caretaker of a fragment of her soul. Of a creature that had been born of her, born from her. Crafted from the essence of her with whispered words and a desire to protect. 

“Imogen?” Laudna had said then, “Are you ready?”

And Imogen had glanced between Laudna and her hound, who sat on bleeding haunches and looked expectantly at his mother, and it was all she could do to swallow the creak in her throat.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Now, as the hound nearly bowls her over, Imogen cannot find it within herself to be mad at him. Not even at the dark stains on her dress. They’ll come out with a prestidigitation or two. She knows from experience. 

She falls back in the grass and stares down twin emeralds. A broad tongue laps the side of her face, and she laughs, trying to dodge a cold, wet nose against her cheek. Her hands come up to cup the sides of his muzzle. 

“Hi, baby boy,” she coos. She rubs at his ears, and he presses harder into her palm, groaning loudly. She can feel the vibration in her chest.

Laudna scolds, “What have I said about knocking people over?” Her hands rest firmly on her hips. “Honestly, Imogen, you could at least discipline him. How will he learn?”

Imogen rolls her eyes, shrugs. “I’m the fun mom. He comes to me because he knows he can’t get away with anything when you’re around.”

Laudna huffs. “I’m sorry that I want our son to be civilized.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” The hound flops to the ground, sprawling over Imogen’s outstretched legs, and she lets out an oomph of surprise. “Are you going to join us down here?” 

Laudna sighs and settles beside Imogen, resting her head on Imogen’s shoulder. She runs her hands over the creature’s exposed belly, avoiding the biggest of the perpetually oozing wounds. His jaw unhinges happily. His tail thumps a steady rhythm against her shin.

Imogen presses a kiss to the top of Laudna’s head, and Laudna relaxes into her.

A soft smile spreads across Imogen’s lips.

[whumpshaped]

Thing I'd read for forever: Whumpees who don't think they're people

There's a moment in Linden and Colton in a flashback when Colton breaks and he disregards his own personhood bc "this was too awful to happen to a person" so he doesn't believe he is a person. These things don't happen to people, therefore he must not be one

It's makes me feral! LIKE YES! RATIONALIZE IT!

Even better if they get questioned on their logic and they straight up do not understand.

My absolute favorite thing is a caretaker being like "well you're a human so you must be a person, right?" And whumpee is like "no. not a person. obviously." Literally believing they're built different from other humans. Just how it is.

Like how do you even combat that logic?? You don't. Sorry. This is Whumpee's worldview now. Good luck.

tw dehumanisation, conditioned whumpee, past trauma with multiple whumpers

"I appreciate it," Whumpee said softly. "I do. You're... you're very kind to me, and I know you're trying to comfort me, and it means a lot."

Caretaker listened, unsure where this monologue was going. They knew Whumpee had a lot of issues, a lot of new triggers they had to watch out for and avoid. Had they missed one? Had they upset them in some way?

"But I'm sure there are people who need you. I know– I know this is your decision, and you decide whether you want to waste all this energy on a useless thing like me, but... but if you care for my opinion at all, and you seem like you do, because you're s-so nice, then... then stop wasting time on me. I'm okay. Whatever duty you have in mind for me, I, I can start doing it today."

Caretaker hummed. "The person who needs me right now is you."

Whumpee shook their head a little. "Not a person."

They didn't flinch. They continued holding Whumpee's hands in their own, rubbing circles into the backs of them. "No?"

"Just a thing. A thing to use. I don't need such kind attention, though I am endlessly grateful for it." They shifted, averting their eyes. "I had to say something. I couldn't keep lying and taking advantage of such a kind person. I'm sorry I didn't speak up right away."

"You couldn't," Caretaker reminded them. "You were unconscious when I found you and barely conscious in the following days."

Whumpee didn't have a reply to that, but their guilt was palpable.

"How come you're not a person?" they asked gently. "You seem like one to me."

"I thought so, too. When I was still stupid and useless and arrogant. Bad. But Master taught me what I was. Showed me."

"Showed you?"

"Yes. They stopped pretending I was a person. They treated me like a thing, like I deserved to be treated, and no one said anything. You wouldn't have been able to treat a person like that. Somebody would've said something."

Caretaker tried not to let it show just how crushing those words sounded. Even through such a casual retelling — or maybe because it was so casual, like it was normal, — they could picture everything too vividly. A poor soul trapped in that horrible place, with monsters who brainwashed them to the point where it was all Whumpee knew. Trapped in a small world of torture and humiliation until they gave up the memories and the experiences of their life from before.

"I see," they forced out.

"I'm sorry if that was upsetting, I was just trying to answer truthfully and–"

"I know. You didn't do anything wrong."

Whumpee fell silent, their fearful eyes searching Caretaker's face for any lies or deception.

"For the time being, why don't you think of this little recovery period as maintenance?" they suggested carefully. "Would that make more sense to you?"

"Maintenance?"

"Yes. Repairs, even. Getting you back to full working order instead of pushing you to your limits with barely any rest time over and over again for no reason. You wouldn't do that to a thing you intended to keep for a long time."

Whumpee thought about it. Caretaker could almost hear the cogs turning. "I don't think I was meant to be kept for a long time," they whispered.

Caretaker squeezed their hands, prompting them to look up. "Yes, you were. If Whumper got to treat you however they saw fit, then it's only fair I get to do the same, right? And I would like to treat you like you matter, person or not."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps @anonymous-tiangou

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Any HC's on what's going on with Luna?

Hi, so I really like Luna as a character, and I've seen various theories about her being a seer, which at least used to be popular in fic, but I never got that impression from her. Personally, I don't think there's anything magical going on with Luna. I think she's just a girl with imagination, a sense of whimsy, and some trauma of her own who chose to handle it through her internal little world rather than anger and other more externalized ways to cope.

So, this kinda ended up being a bit of a character study on Luna...

Pandora Lovegood & Luna's Trauma

One of the major moments in Luna's life that really changed her worldview and approach to people and the world was her mother's death:

“Have you . . .” he began. “I mean, who . . . has anyone you’ve known ever died?” “Yes,” said Luna simply, “my mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine.” “I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled. “Yes, it was rather horrible,” said Luna conversationally. “I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I’ve still got Dad. And anyway, it’s not as though I’ll never see Mum again, is it?” “Er — isn’t it?” said Harry uncertainly. She shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn’t you?” “You mean . . .” “In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that’s all. You heard them.”

(OotP, 863)

I want to talk about her mother, her death, and Luna's general outlook on death and tragedy which explains a lot of her characters.

So Pandora Lovegood experimented with spells and one went badly enough to kill her in front of her 9-year-old daughter. This is why Luna can see Thestrals and hear voices from beyond the veil like Harry and Neville. But Luna, at her soul is an optimist and a very brave one at that. This is something that she doesn't share with her father, which I'd get to, so I think her outlook on life and death is actually something she learned from her mother.

Luna prefers to look at the half-full part of the glass. She is choosing not to get too sad over things or bothered over her bullying (which I'll get to). The main point is that Luna's way of dealing with the hardship and trauma of watching her mother die is to feel the sadness of it, but not let herself wallow in it. She keeps pushing herself forward.

I headcanon Luna took her mother's death to embrace her mother's outlook on life. That things will always be fine, that they'd always work out. I don't think Luna knows for certain everything will be fine, but she chooses to believe it will be and you see it with her later in the books as well.

“I was saying, what are those horse things?” Harry said, as he, Ron, and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting. [...] “It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach’s dark interior. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them too.” “Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes. “Oh yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am.” Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

(OotP, 198-199)

Again, this shows her way of dealing with death and loss that ended up helping Harry. She sees the Thestrals and instead of being discomforted by them and the loss they remind her of (like Neville and Theodore Nott), she tries to smile, to take comfort in the reminder of her mother. "It's sad that she's dead, but it's okay, things will be okay", it's not a direct quote, but I feel it summarises Luna's outlook on loss and negative life experiences in general.

Xenophilius and the Quibbler

As I mentioned above, Xenophilius is much less brave and optimistic than Luna, hence why I think she learned her positive outlook from Pandora and not him:

Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally, he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She . . . she will like to see you. I’ll go and call her and then—very well. I shall try to help you.” He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. They looked at each other. “Cowardly old wart,” said Ron. “Luna’s got ten times his guts.”

(DH, 347)

I understand him, I really do. He lost his wife, and his daughter is all he has, of course, he's scared of helping Harry. He doesn't want to lose Luna too. But, I headcanon Pandora was like Luna in that regard. She wouldn't have let fear stop her. I mean, she had to be brave to experiment with the kind of dangerous spells that'll kill her.

The other thing I want to note about Xenophilius and Luna is how close they seem to be whenever we see them:

Bidding the wizards farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, “Daddy, look—one of the gnomes actually bit me!” “How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial!” said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna’s outstretched finger and examining the bleeding puncture marks. “Luna, my love, if you should feel any burgeoning talent today—perhaps an unexpected urge to sing opera or to declaim in Mermish—do not repress it! You may have been gifted by the Gernumblies!”

(DH, 124)

They seem very affectionate and close, both with words and I'm sure also physical affection. Luna even mentions she still has her dad when she explains how she handles her mother's loss. I think both of them grew closer and more dependent on each other after Pandora's death. And I think that's what really pulled them both through it. Each other.

I write about it more later in this post, but Luna tends to comfort a lot of characters. Hermione, Ollivanders, Harry, and I think the first person she practiced this with was her father. She is a very empathetic person and she watched loss affect her father first-hand. I think, that after they lost Pandora, Luna did more of the heavy lifting in terms of emotional comfort rather than Xenophilius, who was probably a bit of a wreck.

Now, the third major thing I think Luna learned from her father is his various odd beliefs. To name a few Quibbler article titles from the beginning of OotP:

How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?

CORRUPTION IN THE QUIDDITCH LEAGUE: How the Tornados Are Taking Control

SIRIUS - Black As He’s Painted? Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

We all know they have some odd ideas, and are both very convinced of them. Luna never strays in her belief in the things her father writes about:

Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly. “No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione. “Yes, he has,” said Luna. “What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank. “They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —” “They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. “Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily. “I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione. “There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

(OotP, 345)

She actually shows a dislike and anger toward Hermione at first because of how Hermione treats the things she believes in. Luna doesn't get angry often, but when her beliefs are ridiculed in the way Hermione does so, is one of these few times. She doesn't mind being called "Loony", but she cares about her, and her father's beliefs are aggressively questioned. She wouldn't have minded it if Hermione just didn't believe her (like Ron and Ginny) what bothers her is that Hermione doesn't even entertain the possibility of these creatures being real. What angers her is Hermione's closed-mindedness, not that she doesn't agree with her. Luna doesn't mind being alone in her beliefs, she minds closed-minded people who think they know everything, that's what gets her annoyed with Hermione, I think.

Now, I kind of want to discuss why Luna and Xenehpilius believe what they believe. Well, more Xenephilius than Luna, because he taught her most of it and gave her all the evidence she is basing her understanding of all these creatures and conspiracies come from.

Because that's what a lot of these are — conspiracies — and mostly about the Ministry of Magic. These article titles are somewhat like farfetched conspiracy theories like: "NASA hiding a second sun at the center of the Earth" or "Did you know the Earth is actually flat but the government doesn't want you to know" or anything to do with Area 51 and aliens. The articles from the Quibbler sound awfully a lot like that. And it seemed the main reason Xenophilius and Luna believed Harry was because the ministry didn't.

Xenophilius and Luna also believe in miracle cures like gnome venom (as quoted earlier), Gurdyroots and Plumpies:

“May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?” said Xenophilius. “We make it ourselves.” As he started to pour out the drink, which was a deep purple as beetroot juice, he added, “Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plumpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.

(DS, 348)

They are essentially wizard conspiracy theorist hippies.

Basically, Xenophilius and Luna distrust the ministry (rightfully so, as the ministry sucks) but they took their distrust to the extreme. Essentially believing any information from the ministry, or ministry-sanctioned textbooks and newspapers to be false (some of it definitely is false, but not all). If it comes from the ministry it's false in their eyes and therefore everything the ministry doesn't live in is true, even if it doesn't make sense. So what I think is going on with the Lovegoods, and what they are supposed to be, is just conspiracy theorists, who rightfully distrust their government, but took this distrust too far beyond common sense. It doesn't mean all they belive is false, they are actually correct often enough, but not always.

Now, I think, as I said, they have a good reason to distrust the ministry, they just took it a bit far. I actually have a bit of a headcanon about how Xenophilius came to the conclusion that they can't trust ministry.

My headcanon is that it has to do with Pandora's death. We don't really have any indication that Xenophilius believed in everything he did before her death. Neither do we know how exactly the spell killed Pandora. I think the ministry either hid information about Pandora's condition, used some spells she created in their books without giving her credit, or the ministry never sanctioned her spells (we know the ministry does approve spells, Hermione mentions as much in HBP). I'm not sure what exactly went with the ministry, but I headcanon Xenophilius has a personal reason related to Pandora to distrust them.

Loony Luna

We know Luna gets bullied. Her belongings get stolen, other students call her "Loony". And it isn't surprising she gets bullied. children are mean to anyone who is weird and different and Hogwarts has no anti-bullying measures. Literally none, the faculty doesn't care.

What is more interesting is Luna's outlook on her own bullying. It's the same optimistic acceptance of how she treats death.

“How come you’re not at the feast?” Harry asked. “Well, I’ve lost most of my possessions,” said Luna serenely. “People take them and hide them, you know. But as it’s the last night, I really do need them back, so I’ve been putting up signs.” She gestured toward the notice board, upon which, sure enough, she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes, with a plea for their return. An odd feeling rose in Harry — an emotion quite different from the anger and grief that had filled him since Sirius’s death. It was a few moments before he realized that he was feeling sorry for Luna. “How come people hide your stuff?” he asked her, frowning. “Oh . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I think they think I’m a bit odd, you know. Some people call me ‘Loony’ Lovegood, actually.” Harry looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully. “That’s no reason for them to take your things,” he said flatly. “D’you want help finding them?” “Oh no,” she said, smiling at him. “They’ll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway . . . why aren’t you at the feast?”

(OotP, 862-863)

Other Ravenclaws steal her things and hide them, they call her "Loony" and at no point is Luna angry or scared. She is calm and serene and she declines Harry's help because she believes it will all work out. It's the same outlook on death and sadness: "Everything will be fine, just keep your chin up and believe things will be good" That just really seems to be Luna's life philosophy. She faces every problem with optimism and serenity.

Instead of being concerned over her own situation, she actually goes a step further and ask how Harry is doing. Luna goes out of her way to brighten up other people's lives and help them see the good in situations like she can. She is really sweet.

“I enjoyed the meetings too,” said Luna serenely. “It was like having friends.” This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna often said and which made Harry feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment.

(HBP, 138)

“Oh, it’s been all right,” said Luna. “A bit lonely without the D.A. Ginny’s been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me ‘Loony’ the other day —”

(HBP, 311)

These are two more examples of Luna's being bullied. She is lonely and didn't really have friends before the D.A. But just like with her missing things, while it makes her sad, she doesn't wallow in it. She looks at the good parts. The happy memories, the fact that Ginny defends her now. Honestly, it's a healthier coping mechanism than what we see with other characters, I'll give her that.

The other interesting note is how honest she is with all of it. She always says things exactly how she believes they are. She doesn't lie or hide information from people, even for their own comfort. I think this has to do with the distrust in the ministry her father and her share.

Essentially, she was raised being told how awful the ministry is for lying to everyone and how it's horrible they hide information from the wizarding world. I think this is part of why she is so honest and straightforward. She really sees hiding information and lying as awful things to do. And, I mean, she's a Ravenclaw for a reason, she likely believes information should be accessible to know and learn, not hidden in the bawls of the ministry. It's all part of her honesty.

Luna's Empathy

Luna is one of the more empathetic characters in the books. I mentioned before how she goes out of her way to encourage and comfort others, and here are some examples I picked up:

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you look for your stuff?” he said. “Oh no,” said Luna. “No, I think I’ll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up. . . . It always does in the end. . . . Well, have a nice holiday, Harry.” “Yeah . . . yeah, you too.” She walked away from him, and as he watched her go, he found that the terrible weight in his stomach seemed to have lessened slightly.

(OotP, 864)

Luna is the first person to make Harry feel better after Sirius' death, to tell him life goes on and actually convince him of it. She can empathize with people really weel and tell them what they need to hear.

He finally tracked her [Hermione] down as she emerged from a girls’ bathroom on the floor below. She was accompanied by Luna Lovegood, who was patting her vaguely on the back. “Oh, hello, Harry,” said Luna. “Did you know one of your eyebrows is bright yellow?” “Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff. . . .” He held out her books. “Oh yes,” said Hermione in a choked voice, taking her things and turning away quickly to hide the fact that she was wiping her eyes on her pencil case. “Thank you, Harry. Well, I’d better get going. . . .” And she hurried off, without giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any. “She’s a bit upset,” said Luna. “I thought at first it was Moaning Myrtle in there, but it turned out to be Hermione. She said something about that Ron Weasley. . . .”

(HBP, 310)

Even with Hermione, whom Luna tends to argue with most due to Hermione appearing closed-minded to Luna, when Luna hears crying her first instinct is to go help. And she actually seemed to have made Hermione feel better, she found the right things to say.

Her mention of Moaning Myrtle makes it sound like Luna knows the ghost well. My headcanon is that in Luna's first years, when she was lonely and had no friends, she sat and chatted with Myrtle, and they had a cute little lonely friendship.

“That’s right,” said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the D.A., “That’s right, Harry. . . come on think of something happy. . . .” “Something happy?” he said, his voice cracked. “We’re all still here,” she whispered, “we’re still fighting. Come on, now. . . .”

(DS, 548)

Encouraging Harry to cast a Patronus when they need one.

“I’m going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander,” said Luna, approaching the old man. “And I you, my dear,” said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder. “You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.”

(DH, 437)

And even comforting Ollivanders.

Luna just brings comfort to everyone she meets. Knowing what to say to make them feel better.

About her supposed seer-like abilities

As I said, I don't think Luna is a seer or anything like that. I think she's intelligent, open-minded, incredibly empathetic, has some extreme distrust in the ministry, and has an overall life philosophy of looking at the full half of the cup.

When I searched for scenes that had "extra-magical" potential I found only two:

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. [...] The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.

(OotP, 185)

I think this is more Luna being awkward because she never had friends more than anything. I think she is just honestly shocked and confused that Harry and Co. want to sit with her; of like, their free will, and not just to say mean things.

As much as Luna holds her head high, she is hurt by her bullies and loneliness, she just chooses to not internalize any of it and never stop to be herself. Honestly I really appreciate this aspect of Luna, I adore her ability to stay afloat.

The second scene:

He led a party of warlocks into the marquee as Luna rushed up. “Hello, Harry!” she said. “Er—my name’s Barny,” said Harry, flummoxed. “Oh, have you changed that too?” she asked brightly. “How did you know—?” “Oh, just your expression,” she said.

(DH, 123)

I don't think this is being a "seer" or anything like that. I believe this is an extension of Luna's intense empathy. She says she recognises Harry's expression. Also, she's smart and he acts around Ron the way he always does, Luna would be able to recognize it...

So, yeah, these are my thoughts about Luna.

[castiellesbian]

Remember when Misha came out as bi and we were all like "yeah and water is wet." We were only surprised when he walked it back and said he was straight. Now THAT shook my worldview.

[dragonmama76]

Beginnings Part 3

Sorry for the wait. A combo of writers block and life happening kept me from working on this. Hope you enjoy!

Catch up here: Part One, Interlude, Part 2

The jagged glass bottle dropped to the floor and Steve was free. He wasn’t dead.  Eddie hadn’t killed him after all.  As his senses returned he registered that there was shouting.  So much shouting.  “How dare you lay even one single finger on him!” Steve had never seen Robin so furious in their time together, not even when confronted with the Russians.  “After what you did to him…put him through!”  she was half screaming and half crying now and Steve gathered her in his arms, “Robbie, Rob, Bobbin it’s okay. Shhhhh.  Listen.  We’ve gotta get through what’s happening now.  It’s more important than anything that happened to me in high school.”  She gradually  stopped fighting and allowed herself to be held and only then did Steve manage to glance over at Dustin.  He was white as a sheet frantically looking between Steve and Eddie.  “Eddie?”  his voice cracked, “Eddie…what did you do?”  

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

Steve and Robin stared transfixed at the screen as the reporter gave few details concerning the murder of a Hawkins High student.  Steve’s stomach clenched and his first thought was for Max but the trailer on the screen wasn’t familiar to him.  It wasn’t her trailer.  Lost in his racing thoughts, he jumped as the bell over the door rang out and Dustin and Max both rushed in.  His relief was short-lived, though, as it became clear that they were looking for help to find Eddie Munson.  Of course the Freak was at the center of all this, and now his kids were getting involved.  “Maybe let the police handle this one?” Steve suggested, although he knew it was futile.  As far as Dustin went, Eddie could do no wrong.  He exchanged meaningful glances with Robin.  Her eyes were wide as she tried to sort out if it was better to help the kids or convince them to stay far away from the situation.  Steve grabbed her sleeve and pulled her aside so they could talk.  She was babbling before he had a chance to get a word in.

“Oh my God, Steve, you always said he was dangerous and I didn’t believe you.  I’m such an idiot.  Did he actually do it?  Did he actually, you know, hurt someone?  Like that?  What are we going to do?”  

“Shit, Robin," Steve shook his head, "I don’t know.  But we can’t let Dustin and Max do this alone and you know they will, so we’re going to help them and you and I are going along to keep them out of trouble.  I don’t think Munson would actually hurt Dustin, so let’s just find him and get his side of the story.  From what Max said, it sounds like this could be upside down related and if it is…well, better that we know.”

********

There was silence in the boathouse and Dustin asked again, “Eddie…what did you do?” Eddie watched in horror as Dustin’s enormous brain made those lightning speed connections.  It was like he could see the wheels turning and the horror dawning as Dustin’s worldview was rocked by Eddie’s former crimes. His dirty truth.  His eternal shame.  He was about to turn and run, where he didn’t know, maybe just straight into the lake when Steve broke in.  “Dustin, whatever you think you know right now, put it aside.  We need to know what happened to Chrissy.”  Eddie felt, rather than saw Steve shift his attention back to him even as Dustin continued to glower.  “Okay, Eddie, it's time.  Tell us what happened and don’t leave anything out.”  Something loosened in Eddie’s chest and it all came tumbling out.  Chrissy coming to his trailer looking for help.  Chrissy floating.  Her bones snapping.  Her eyes.  He knew it all sounded insane, each detail worse than the one before but the more he spoke, the more knowing the glances around him became.  

********

After dropping Dustin and Max off for the night with promises to meet up in the morning for a strategy session, he and Robin headed back to his place to crash.  Steve didn’t feel at all bad leaving Eddie in the boathouse overnight to stew in his own juices.  He could see the man was terrified, but maybe that was simply payback for all the terror he had inspired in Steve.  It felt good.  Really good.  Steve finally had the upper hand over Eddie and wondered if this was his opportunity to enact some revenge.  Saving the world notwithstanding.  That would come first.  He sat with that feeling for a minute while Robin got settled on the couch.  And then he paused.  Well, shit.  Wasn't this exactly what Eddie had done back in high school?  Was this how he felt every time he saw Steve cringe or duck into a classroom to avoid him?  That's not who Steve wanted to be.  He had flirted with the concept of bullying back when he was friends with Tommy H. and decided it wasn't for him and he had worked too hard to shed his King Steve persona to turn it back on now.  Sometimes growing older and gaining perspective sucked.  Steve thought about Eddie watching him these last few months and wondered if he had gained perspective as well.  No one should be blamed for stupid things they did at fifteen, he really believed that, so maybe he would have to forgo the opportunity for revenge until he truly saw Eddie in action.  Ultimately Steve didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he was now technically helping Eddie, but he was willing to put his feelings aside until this current crisis was resolved.  Robin, it seemed, was not.  

“Steve, you know don’t have to be a part of this.  And maybe we shouldn’t be anyway.  It’s okay if you want to leave Eddie to figure this out on his own, you know.  You don’t have to help him, especially not after everything he did to you.  When I saw him grab you…and the look on your face…I hate him, Steve.  I hate what he did to you and I don’t get why you’re being so calm about this!” Robin’s voice was verging on hysteria and Steve sighed.  He was so tired.  “Robin, I love you and I understand that you think you’re helping, but every time I tried to talk to you about this you dismissed it and I’m gonna be honest, it made me feel like shit.  So you don’t get to have an opinion on how I’m handling this right now.  I’ve been dealing with Eddie on my own for years and you’re going to have to trust me when I say that I know what I’m doing.”  

Robin’s face fell and she looked absolutely devastated.  “Steve,” she gasped, “I didn’t..I’m sorry…I…”  

“Forget it.”  Steve’s face was hard, but his voice was kind, kinder than she thought she deserved.  “Look, Robs, whatever happened, it was in the past and if I choose to move on or ignore it that’s for me to decide.  You didn’t take it seriously before and that really sucked and I guess seeing it up close and personal changed that for you and that’s great, but this is and always has been my problem to solve.”  

“Okay.”  Robin’s voice was weak, “Okay, Steve I trust you.  Of course I do.   Just….I want you to know that I get now that I wasn’t there for you in the past and that I was too wrapped up in my own assumptions and drama and I need you to know that I’m really here for you and I’m on your side whatever that means.” 

“I know, Robbie, and that means a lot.  Really.  Let’s get some sleep and we’ll figure it all out in the morning.”

********

The last couple of days had been a real mindfuck, and now Eddie watched in horror as Steve slipped beneath the surface of Lover’s Lake for the second time.  He couldn’t let Steve just die, not with everything between them so unresolved.  It was less than a minute before he was diving in after him.  Eddie was sure he wasn’t thinking straight.  What exactly was he going to do?  Maybe he could grab him and bring him back up?  But then it didn’t matter because there was no time to think and he was sucked through a hole, a gate they called it? And the lake bed was dry and then there were birds, no, not birds. Bats. Bats with no faces diving and attacking from every direction.  Steve was on the ground fighting them off and suddenly Eddie was charging in as if he had any idea how to help.  Whatever he was doing must have worked because there was a moment when the onslaught stopped and Eddie gaped as Steve bit clear through the creature wrapped around his neck.  Metal.  

Back at Skull Rock Eddie watched as Nancy carefully wrapped Steve’s wounds with makeshift bandages.  He paced back and forth knowing his mind should be on the current danger but in reality worrying over the fact that Steve could have died and Eddie would have never had the chance to clear the air.  He needed to apologize like he needed to breathe.  This was such bullshit.  Before Chrissy had floated and died he had felt so close to being able to approach Steve once and for all and beg for forgiveness and now it felt like he was starting from square one.  Maybe he needed to make a plan?  He was so good at plans, but fuck it, there was no time for a plan.  Not here, not now.  The ground shook under his feet.  Goddammit.

“Steve,” Eddie panted, trying to keep up while also avoiding the vines littering the path ahead, “Can we talk for just a second.”

“Not right now, man.” Steve avoided the man’s gaze and continued to follow the girls.

“Please, Steve, just let me say one thing and then I’ll shut up, I swear.”  Eddie pleaded, stopping for a minute to catch his breath.

“Fine.” Steve waved his hand, “One thing.  Go.”

“I…” the words caught in Eddie’s throat and he floundered as Steve rolled his eyes and turned to go and then everything bubbled to the surface and came tumbling out in a vomit of emotion.  “FUCK!  I’m sorry, Steve.  I’m sorry for everything.  The name calling, the pushing, the knife.  It wasn’t right and I was stupid and I’m just…sorry.”

Steve stood and looked at him long and hard and Eddie cringed, waiting and knowing he deserved whatever came next. 

Steve’s face gave nothing away as he sighed out, “Eddie, man, I want to believe that you are serious about being sorry, but this isn’t the time.  I don’t know what it will take to forgive you or move past this and I really can’t do this right now.  I can’t fight monsters and my own personal demons at the same time.  Truce for right now, okay?” 

 “Yeah, yeah okay.”  Eddie wanted to stop there, but he needed more, “ I just…I just don’t get why you would help me after everything I did to you.”

Eddie watched Steve grow frustrated and felt even shittier for being such a needy bastard.  “It’s not about you, Eddie, okay?  This is so much bigger than you and your problems and whatever fucked up shit you did in high school.  So yeah, I’m helping you because helping you means protecting my family.  The people I love.  And that also means protecting  everyone else in this godforsaken town.  Even you.  So for the sake of the whole fucking world, can we just pause and pretend that you never hated me and that I don’t hate you back for like 24 hours?”  

Eddie nodded and whispered, “Yes. Let’s do that. Sorry.”  As he resumed following Steve and the girls every step was punctuated by the nagging thought, Steve hates me.  Steve hates me.  Steve hates me.  He had never felt so despondent and if he didn’t owe it to Steve to help them all out of this situation he would be tempted to go ahead and disappear here in the Upside Down.  Find a place to hide and curl up and die.  A monster in a monstrous place.

*********

When Dustin cornered Steve outside Max’s trailer he wasn’t ready.  So much was happening so fast.  They needed to figure out what had happened back there with Nancy.  They needed to figure out how exactly they could keep Max safe.  They did not have to figure out Steve’s past trauma and how it affected them.  

“I cannot believe you, Steve, how could you let me just let me get involved with Eddie knowing what he did to you?  You picked me up from Hellfire, you listened to me go on and on about him and even suggest you two should be friends!”  Dustin was so angry and Steve didn’t have anything to say.  What excuse did he honestly have for keeping Dustin in the dark this whole time?

“Look Dustin, it wasn’t like that.  I mean maybe it was, I don’t know.  I didn’t want to get in the way of you having a good freshman year.  It seemed like you were okay, so I figured why mess with that?”

“No. That’s not it.  You tell me what was so important you couldn't warn me about Eddie!" Dustin pushed until Steve cracked.

All at once, Steve felt the weight of all his relationships crashing down upon him and let the words fall out, “I don’t know, all right?  I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.  I don’t know why I let you all hang around him.  It just didn’t feel right.  Everyone around me was constantly telling me what a good guy he was and I’m nothing.  I’m nobody. I'm not a nerd, I’m not cool, I’m just the goddamn babysitter and I thought if it came down to him or me that you wouldn’t choose me.”  Steve sat heavily on the ground and put his head in his hands.

“Woah.”  Dustin sat next to Steve.  “Dude.  You are not the babysitter, Steve.  You are my brother and no matter what happens that’s who you’ll always be.  Eddie might have seemed cool, but at the end of the day he’s just some guy.  You on the other hand are Steve Harrington, the most badass guy I know and nothing will ever change that.”

Steve sniffled and knocked Dustin’s hat off to tousle his hair.  “Hey man, not cool!  I’m baring my soul here so don’t mess with the hair.”  Steve laughed and pulled Dustin into a hug.  

“I’m sorry for not telling you.”  

“You want me to kick his ass for you?” Dustin looked up at Steve so earnestly that Steve thought his heart couldn’t bear it.  

“Nah, man.  Look.  It does honestly seem like he’s changed since I knew him and he’s always been good to you, right?”

“Yeah…” Dustin acknowledged.

“It’s okay.  I promise.  I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends, but I don’t want to be his enemy and I don’t think he wants to be mine, at least not anymore.  Let us work it out, okay?”  Steve steeled himself to follow his own advice.  It was time to find Eddie and end this.

********

Sitting in Max’s trailer wasn’t working for Eddie.  He needed to get out.  He needed to move.  It was the middle of the night, so if he slipped out the back it wasn’t like there would be a hoard of townsfolk with torches and pitchforks ready to grab him.  Probably.  He figured it was worth the risk.  “Uh, I’m taking a smoke break,” he muttered as he slipped out the door into the inky black night.  He heard footsteps crunch in the gravel behind him and spun around ready to run but stopped when he realized it was Steve.  

“Munson, we’ve got some downtime here so I think it’s time we talk.” 

 “Yeah.  Okay.” Eddie began, “I don’t know how many ways I can apologize without it sounding hollow, but I’m willing to grovel…”  

Steve cut in, “I honestly just want to know one thing.” 

“Oh, um, yeah, okay?”  Eddie paced nervously in front of him and waited for him to ask.  

“Why me?  What did I do to you?  I wish I could remember, but it was like you hated me on sight and I don’t even understand why.” Eddie expected Steve to be angry, but instead he looked so sad it made Eddie want to cry.

It was the question Eddie had been dreading.  But he had to fess up and he had to be totally honest.  He knew it was the only way he could ever make amends with the boy he had hurt so many times before.  

“Look, the thing is, Steve, and there’s no way to make this sound less stupid and awful, but I never really cared about who you were back then.  I had this idiotic idea that if I could make a preppy jock afraid of me that I wouldn’t get bullied at school anymore.  I picked you pretty much at random, decided you fit my profile and then executed the plan.  And the worst part was that it worked, you know?  No one bothered me ever again and it kept me and my friends safe for years.  It’s not an excuse.  There is no excuse for what I did to you and I will bear that guilt until I go to my grave.  But you should know, it was never really about you.  You were good looking and confident and rich and looked like you had it all. I didn’t hate you because I didn’t know you.  I hated what I thought you stood for.  And now that I do know you, I could never hate you.”

“When exactly was it that you flipped and decided I was someone worth knowing?” Steve asked warily, like he was pretty sure of the answer.

Eddie shrugged resigned to his fate.  “It was when Dustin and the other kids started talking you up.  They never had a bad word to say about you and…”  Eddie trailed off but Steve motioned him to continue, “They told me all about your freshman year and the problems you had…with me…which, they apparently didn’t know it was me and I can’t believe you never told them or tried to keep them away…but I had to take a good hard look at myself and I promise you I did not like what I saw.  So…for a while I tried to justify it by watching you whenever I could so I could catch you being an asshole or whatever,”  

Steve jumped in, “I KNEW you were stalking me!  Goddammit!  Robin kept trying to tell me it was a coincidence or whatever, but you were fucking everywhere!” 

Eddie groaned rocking back on his heels, “Fuck fuck fuck.  I’m sorry.  Again.  I swear to God I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.  I just…needed to see for myself and then…okay, this sounds worse and maybe it is….I got kind of invested?”  

Steve’s eyes widened, “Invested?  What does that even mean?”  

“Mmmmmm,” Eddie groaned again and tried to hide under his hair, “….you just…you’re a good guy, you know?  It was hard to look away when you were so kind and happy and bitchy, like in a good way, and just completely not what I expected.  I’m sorry.  I promise when this is all over I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll fucking disappear if that’s what you need.  I should have left this god awful town a long time ago anyway.”  

“Okay, well, no need to banish yourself quite so soon.”  Steve sighed.  “I’m not like Mother Teresa or anything here.  I lived up to a lot of your expectations, so maybe I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”  Eddie broke in quickly, “You didn’t deserve any of the things I did.  I mean, no one would, but especially not you.  I have a feeling if it wasn’t for me, King Steve wouldn’t have even existed.  Dustin always says he wishes you and I had been friends and if I wasn’t such a creep, maybe we would have been?”  

“I dunno, Eddie, you can say whatever you want, but I was pretty fucked up all on my own in high school in ways that I can safely say had nothing to do with you.”

“Steve, can we maybe start over?  I know I'm not worthy of a second chance, but….what the hell…”  Eddie slowly reached out with one hand, “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson.  I play the guitar and do a lot of nerd shit. I’m also currently living in a nightmare world”

Steve looked at his hand and made a split second decision, reaching out to shake, “Hi Eddie, I’m Steve Harrington.  I’m a babysitter, carry a nail bat and am very familiar with your current nightmare.”  Eddie let out a slow breath as they shook hands.  It wasn’t everything he wanted or needed, he knew Steve hadn't forgiven him and that was probably as it should be, but it was a start.

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

Part 4 coming soon (ish?) Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood so....do it?

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[inkedroplets]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 19: Hazy

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After nearly a lifetime of being gawked at and whispered about (sometimes in not-so-quiet voices) Lena had gotten very good at knowing when someone was staring at her. 

She noticed Alex casting a furtive glance at her from across the table during a game night that was just beginning to wind down. She initially ignored it, focusing on the game board even though the winner had already been decided. Thanks to a number of very lucky dice rolls  Kara had pulled into an insurmountable lead which left the rest of them to battle it out for second place. Everyone except for Lena. Her ending up in last place seemed preordained and Lena considered her options and realized that she was almost assuredly destined to remain there. She gave the dice in her hand an obligatory shake before letting them fall from her hand. 

“Damn it,” Lena murmured before the dice had even stopped rattling over the top of the board. The roll was bad. She knew that with the kind of certainty that a seasoned pitcher knows when a throw is bad even before it leaves their hand. “Tough luck,” Nia said consolingly, moving Lena’s piece for her a paltry two spaces, seven shy of the space she was aiming for. She gave Lena a comforting pat on the arm but the wide grin that had spread across her face somewhat dulled the sincerity. “You look really torn up about it,” Lena teased as she passed Nia the dice. She smiled when Nia gave her best Who me? expression complete with doe-eyes but couldn’t help but notice that Alex was still looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “I don’t have something in my teeth, do I?” Lena asked looking over at Alex who went slightly pink at being caught. “No,” Alex said hurriedly and looked as if she were debating whether or not to try and shrink behind Kelly. “It’s nothing,” she said in a tone that really meant it was nothing bad. “I’m just still wrapping my head around you...” She made a flourish with her hands and Lena could only stare back bemused for a moment until it clicked. 

Her magic…

“That makes two of us," Lena said, wishing she had simply left it alone instead of letting her curiosity get the better of her.  She still hadn't completely come to terms with the concept of their being such a thing as magic, much less her being able to use it. A part of her wondered if she ever really would. Magic was something that was simply too antithetical to her worldview for her to accept easily. Even in a world with metahumans and aliens, magic seemed a bridge too far. “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Alex said.

“No,” Lena said reflexively. She mustered a smile that had all the makings of the genuine article and shook her head to hide its imperfections. “It hasn’t really sunk in yet that I can… that I’m…” She copied the gesture that Alex made, finding that easier than actually saying the word ‘magic’. “Of course,” Alex said quickly. “It does make sense though,” Nia said sagely. She exchanged a look with Brainy who had just moments ago been gazing intently at the gameboard. He took a moment to ponder the question, glancing over at Lena for a brief moment before nodding in agreement. “What does?” Kelly asked, wading into the conversation carefully. “Lena not believing in magic,” Nia said. She looked around the table as if to gauge everyone’s response to her theory. When she got back around to Lena she offered her another consoling look, this one far more sincere than her first. “It would be hard for anyone to accept.” “Not Kara,” Alex said, smirking a little. “She’d come around pretty fast." “I would not,” Kara interjected. “I don’t know,” Lena teased and flashed Kara a shy, secretive smile. “Ganging up on me.” Kara shook her head but Lena could see that she was smiling. “Everyone except Kara,” Nia amended. “But Lena would naturally have a harder time than most since it’s so unlike her. Science and magic don’t really mix,” she said. Like oil and water.” “She’s right,” Lena agreed and found that having Nia explain it in her stead made it easier for her to talk about. But it wasn’t just that the two didn’t mix. In her mind, science and magic were diametrically opposed. “Magic, it’s not…” She paused, fishing for the right word. She noticed that everyone was looking at her now, the game all but forgotten. “Not logical,” she finished. 

There was a brief moment of silence followed by a murmur of agreement from around the table. “ Highly illogical,” Nia agreed and held her left hand up in a Vulcan salute which got a small smile out of Kelly. 

"I get that," Alex said, no longer looking like she wanted to crawl under the table out of embarrassment. "That's what's making it so hard for me to believe it too but Lena you can do magic." She stared at her, waiting for what she said to sink in. "You have a spellbook for God's sake," she added. "Doesn't that make it a little easier to accept?" 

"It should," Lena admitted. "But I still don’t quite believe it. Can’t believe it,” she admitted. Even now. With Lex and Nyxly nothing more than a very bad memory, in no small part to the help she was able to provide. Thanks to her magic… Even still, she found it impossible to believe. Lena braced herself for the follow-up questions that were sure to follow, hoping she could discretely steer the conversation elsewhere. Not that she didn’t ever want to talk about it but not tonight. Not just yet… She saw the way that Brainy was looking at her and knew he likely had several questions for her. But before he could open his mouth, Kara cleared her throat. “Who’s roll is it again?” 

In near-perfect unison, everyone around the table stopped looking at Lena and turned to look at each other. 

"I think it's Kelly's turn," Nia said. “It is,” Kelly said a  little sheepishly and leaned over the table to grab the dice. She gave the board a cursory once-over and didn’t seem to like what she saw judging from the way her mouth turned downward. 

“You’d need double sixes to ensure second place,” Brainy said. He didn’t even glance at the board as he said it, which Lena took to mean he had already figured out the exact number of spaces each of them would need to move for the best possible outcome.

"Never going to happen," J'onn murmured. 

Brainy shook his head, looking far more interested in the topic than the game they were playing. "Actually, the probability that Kelly rolls two sixes is—" 

"I don't want to know!" Kelly interjected, waving him off. “It’s bad luck.” “No math at game night,” Nia said darkly but grabbed Brainy by the arm and gave him a quick but fierce hug to show that she was clearly joking. A ripple of laughter echoed around the table and as everyone turned to watch Kelly take her turn, Lena glanced over at Kara who was watching her with a smile on her face.

" Thank you," Lena mouthed. She flashed Kara a small secretive smile and when she felt herself start to blush she turned her attention to the board, pretending to be just as interested in the game as everyone else seemed to be. 

By the time everyone was ready to call it a night, Kara’s apartment looked as if a mini tornado had touched down and cut a path of destruction from her kitchen to her living room. There were empty takeout boxes strewn all over the kitchen counter that was speckled with drips of sauce. A quartet of empty wine bottles were perched on the edge of her kitchen table and in the center of it there was that night’s selection of board games still not in their boxes. 

“Don’t bother cleaning up,” Kara said when Nia began to gather up the wine glasses bunched up together on the coffee table. “I’ll have the place looking spotless in no time flat. It’s late,” she said, taking the glasses from Nia, clutching them delicately by their stems, and ferrying them to the sink. “It’s not that late,” Nia countered but she hid a yawn with the back of her hand as she said it. “Okay maybe it is late but I can stick around long enough to help un-trash your apartment.” Kelly nodded. “It’s no trouble, Kara.” She was still sitting on the end of the couch next to Alex who was already half-dozing, her head resting against Kelly’s shoulder. “Go on,” Kara insisted and pointed at Alex discreetly. “You’re going to have a hard enough time pouring her into a cab,” she teased. Alex stirred against Kelly’s shoulder but didn’t lift her head as she pointed forebodingly at Kara. “I’ll stay,” Lena said and gave Nia a little nudge on the shoulder. “I’m not anywhere close to tired,”  she said and began to gather up some of the dishes on the coffee table. Her sleeping schedule had never been anything other than erratic and after several late nights at the office, 

"If you're sure…" Kara said carefully, watching her from the kitchen. She didn’t seem as eager to talk Lena out the door and looked almost guilty for it. There was a sly smile on her face like the tiny glow from a spark that might grow into something more. 

"Very sure," Lena said and couldn't help but grin when Kara beamed back at her, feeling her heart do a little skip in her chest. 

"Okay then," Nia said softly. She looped her arm with Brainy's and instead of standing her ground tugged him towards the door. "Thanks for tonight,” she called over her shoulder. “My place next week,” she reminded them before turning to Brainy. He was looking at her with a look of polite confusion on his face. One that Nia seemed to expect because she leaned close as she opened the door for the both of them and murmured, “I’ll tell you in the elevator.” “Wait for us,” Kelly called after them as she helped Alex up off the couch. “We can ride down together,” she said 

“Have a good night you two,” J’onn said as he followed along in Kelly’s wake. He lingered in the doorway long enough to wave to the both of them. Lena nodded at him and Kara waved back cheerily before he shut the door behind him. Lena could hear all of them chatting animatedly as they made their way down the hall towards the elevator, their voices slowly growing more muffled. “You didn’t have to stay,” Kara said, drawing Lena’s attention back to her. “But I’m happy you did,” she added quickly.

“The loser should have to stay and help clean up,” Lena joked. She was blushing a little as she said it. Something easy enough to blame on the wine. "I might slow you down," Lena warned. It was all too easy to imagine Kara as a blur zipping to and fro, leaving everything sparkling and immaculately clean in her wake. 

"Nah." Kara shook her head. "You could never do that."She snapped on a pair of kitchen gloves and surveyed the impressive tower of dishes in the sink with one hand on her hip before she got to work. Lena watched her for a moment, marveling at Kara's speed before she got to work herself. 

With both of them working together it took them barely any time at all. Lena was just putting away the board games in the small closet next to the living room when Kara came strolling out of the kitchen, singing softly under her breath. She was carrying what remained of the chiffon cake that Alex had brought for dessert in one hand and two forks in the other. 

“No room in the fridge,” Kara said. “I should really get around to cleaning it,” she said and spared a guilty glance back towards the kitchen. “I think there’s still some old takeout shoved in the crisper… But do you mind helping me out a little more?” she joked. She set the cake on the freshly cleaned coffee table and sat down before scooching over to make room for Lena on one end. “Well,” Lena said, taking one of the forks from her before sitting down herself.  “I suppose I could help out a little more. Not that I think you need it,” she teased. “You know,” Kara said after they had polished off the cake (which like the cleaning went much faster than Lena had expected), “I think it’s neat.” “Neat?” Lena looked at her, grinning a little at the turn of phrase. It was too perfectly Kara. Coming from anyone else it would have sounded the tiniest bit odd. “Yeah,” Kara said a little defensively, sitting up a straighter, grinning back. “Your magic, I mean… I think it’s really neat.” “I guess it is,” Lena said fairly and was more than a little shocked that she agreed, at least in theory. It was neat. “I just wish it was easier for me to accept that part of myself.” She laughed, feeling more than a little foolish that she was still determined to remain obstinate to the very end. “I guess it’s a little easier for you to accept. You being you,” she said fondly and imitated the pose Kara often took when flying, her fist raised up and over her head. “That might be true,” Kara admitted, “But I think it’s just because it doesn’t change anything. You’re still you Lena. Magic or no magic. I know how that must sound,” she said and from her tone maybe expected Lena to call her out on such a simplistic outlook for a problem that had plagued Lena for months now. “But it’s true. I already thought you could do anything you set your mind to. Magic doesn’t change that.” “It sounds like you,” Lena said. “And if you really think that—” “I do,” Kara interjected, nodding so earnestly that Lena had to stifle a laugh with her hand. Too afraid it might become a full-on laughing fit if she didn’t nip it in the bud. “Then I want to say thank you. I think I needed to hear that,” Lena said, feeling as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders, one she hadn’t even realized she had been carrying. “Anytime,” Kara said modestly. She smiled shyly at Lena before her expression turned uncharacteristically grave. “Your pose is all wrong though.” Kara leaned back, surveying her with a careful eye. She nodded to herself, looking more sure than ever, and leaned forward to push Lena’s fist a touch higher into the air. Looking satisfied she sat back down. “Now you got it,” she teased. 

“I'll keep that in mind for the next time I go for an afternoon fly around the city."

Kara started to laugh but stopped almost as soon as she had started.  “Lena…” She reached over and squeezed her arm like she sometimes did when they were eating lunch together in her office. "You don’t think you could…” Kara began to say before trailing off

“Don’t think what?” Lena said and knew what Kara meant to say when she refused to look at her. "That I could fly? Kara, you can't be serious."

"I don't know,” Kara said a little defensively, looking so thoroughly embarrassed that Lena couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it really that hard to believe?” “No,” Lena admitted. “And that’s why it’s so weird. Oh God, can you imagine if any paparazzi snagged a picture of me flying around on a broom?  The headlines would just write themselves, wouldn’t they? And even if I could fly,” Lena said, knowing that Kara was the only one she would ever humor with such a thought exercise, “you know that I don’t care for it. The only time I feel safe flying is—” She nearly said: when I fly with you and felt her cheeks start to glow. "When I fly in clear weather,” she finished, hoping it didn't sound as lame to Kara as it did to her. 

"Well, if you ever did find out you could fly, I'd be happy to give you lessons. I'd even let you borrow one of my old capes."

Lena smirked. "I'll hold you to that," she said. The mental image of herself standing on top of a tall building with her hands on her hips while a red cape flapped in the wind behind her was almost enough to send her into a fit of laughter. It was simply too weird. 

"Fine with me," Kara said cheerfully. She beamed at Lena and scooted closer so that their knees were touching. "Can I ask you one more thing and then we can turn on a movie until it's too late for you not to stay the night?” “I can always call a car,” Lena reminded her although she already knew that Kara would never actually let her go through with it. They had done the same song and dance many times before and each time they did, Kara always won out in the end.  She’d insist too heartily that Lena stay, making a show of her already prepared guest room that would just go to waste otherwise, insisting that Lena could never be an inconvenience and if Lena still wasn’t convinced, Kara would take her by the hand and tug at it as if trying to coax her to walk with her and that would be that. “Stay,” Kara insisted. “Unless you have an early morning meeting you forgot to tell me about, I’d understand.” “No early meeting,” Lena said. “Ask your question and maybe I’ll stay,” she teased.

“When you were younger did you never imagine what it would be like to be able to do magic?” 

“Ah,” Lena said, realizing that a part of her had instinctually known that was the question Kara wanted to ask her, or at least something along those same lines. “You don’t have to—” “I suppose I did,” Lena said in a careful tone usually reserved for white lies. “I’m almost certain…” She tilted her head at an insouciant angle, trying to remember, to sift through what little remained of her early childhood memories before she became a Luthor. Trying to find a memory she wasn’t sure even existed in the first place. 

"Maybe," Lena amended. Before my mother passed, I remember I loved to play pretend. Surely there was at least one time I pretended to be a witch," she reasoned. "Although I can't remember it. All my memories of her have faded too much to recall much of anything in particular. I was too young,” she said as if she needed to apologize for forgetting, even though she had tried her very best to remember. “And once I was taken in by the Luthors,” she said and shrugged as if to say need I say more? “I don’t think I could have believed in something like magic even if I wanted to.” “I’m sorry…” Kara took her gently by the hand and pulled it into her lap. “I shouldn’t have asked.” “You have no reason to be sorry, Kara. You’re the only person I can talk to about this. Magic,” she said almost conversationally as if they were talking about something mundane like the weather. “It’s a bit too much for one of my tiny boxes,” she joked, although there had been a very real temptation to try and shove it away. The only thing that had stopped her from doing so had been the knowledge that Lillian had tried to do the very same already.

"My magic," Lena said, the word still feeling strange on her tongue, “it’s the one remaining link I have to my mother. And when I think of it like that… It's not so strange." 

"No, it's not," Kara agreed. "Not one bit.” She squeezed Lena’s hand in her own. “It’s just another part of you to… admire.” Her gaze flickered away and back and all at once Lena became very aware of Kara’s nearness. 

“What about you?” Lena asked. “You must have thought once or twice what it would be like to do magic… And what you do with a pen doesn’t count.” Kara smiled sheepishly but her eyebrows shot upward. "You know most people would focus on me being able to fly and bench press a building when they start talking about magic," Kara said, sounding amused. 

"You have a gift," Lena said simply and grinned happily when she saw the joy her response brought about. "Don't try to dodge the question," she joked. 

"I'm not dodging," Kara insisted. "I might have thought about it once or twice… or a few hundred times." Kara looked immensely unapologetic as she said it. "You try watching The Wizard of Oz without it crossing your mind at least once."

"Fair enough," Lena agreed, thinking of how many times they had watched the movie together and how Kara not only never seemed to tire of it but got lost in the movie each and every time. "Imagining yourself flying around in a bubble?" she asked, half-joking. 

"No," Kara said, sounding amused by Lena's joke. "More like imagining…” She trailed off, looking embarrassed. “It’s stupid,” she said dismissively. 

“I’m sure it’s anything but,” Lena assured her. Kara managed an uncharacteristically half-hearted grin but gave Lena’s hand another little squeeze. “Sometimes I have this thought, a wish really, usually when things are especially good… Nights like this with everybody together, lunch dates with you in your office, whenever I see my name on the byline of an article…” Kara grinned proudly and Lena noticed the way she glanced over towards where her Pulitzer was proudly on display. “I wish I could have seen into the future, " Kara said carefully as if still afraid that Lena might change her mind and think it stupid. "So that when I arrived on Earth I would know how good my life would turn out… know that I wouldn’t always feel so alone…” Lena nodded somberly, understanding the appeal perfectly. She saw in her mind’s eye herself as a child in Luthor Manor, sitting in a bedroom that was cold and strange and seemingly hers. A bedroom that was too large a room for such a small girl in too large a house for anyone really. She remembered how afraid she had been. How lonely she felt even though she wasn’t quite old enough to understand the hurt. Only knowing that she didn’t want to be alone and fearing that she would always be so. 

"But then again maybe it would have ruined the surprise," Kara reconsidered, looking at Lena, clearly wanting her opinion on the matter. "Like sneaking a look at your presents before you're allowed to open them." 

"If you saw everything that was going to be, I guess it would kind of take the fun out of it," Lena said fairly, putting much more effort into the thought exercise than she would have for anyone other than Kara.

Right?" Kara nodded to herself. "It would take the fun out of it," she agreed, sounding as if she was trying hard to convince herself it was true. "But one quick peek wouldn’t be so bad,” she reasoned in that familiar, impossible-to-argue-with tone that Lena found herself powerless in the face of. 

“What would you want to see with your one quick peek?” Lena asked. “Just one?” Kara said in a pained tone as if she wasn’t the one to suggest the rules in the first place. She fell silent and stayed that way for nearly two whole minutes, deep in thought. “A night out at Al's or any game night, I think.” She blushed a little as she said it, perhaps because she saw how much her answer had surprised Lena. “I never would have believed in a million years that I could be surrounded by so many people who care about me. That I could feel like I belong here.” She glanced at her kitchen table where they had all been crowded around just hours ago and smiled fondly. “I’m very lucky…” “We’re the lucky ones, Kara” Lena said, surprised when Kara blushed a deep crimson. How could you never realize that? she wondered. “Lena…” “I could blame it on the wine,” Lena said, even though she knew she wasn’t anywhere tipsy enough for that. “But I’m just being honest. We’re very lucky to have you in our lives.” I’m lucky…

“What about you?” Kara asked, still blushing. “What would you want to see with your one quick peek?” “ Mine ?” Lena asked as if she hadn’t already known that Kara would want to ask her that very question. The answer came to her at once. The day she had met Kara. Maybe because meeting her had led to so many wonderful things or simply because it was her. “I’m not sure… Too many good memories to pick just one,” she fibbed. “A game night,” she said. “Preferably one where I didn’t come in last place.” “That’s cheating,” Kara said dismissively. “Game night was my answer,” she teased.

“You should have made that a rule then,” Lena said, pretending to scold her.

“I’ll know for next time,” Kara said. She settled back against the couch looking comfortable for a moment before she turned to Lena again.  “You know… I was going to say the day I met you,” Kara said. “Meeting you put me on the path I always wanted to find. The day I met my best friend,” she said as if that was reason enough. “ But as happy as that would make me, I would hate to ruin the surprise of meeting you.” I would too,” Lena murmured. “You were, are, the best kind of surprise.”  She could feel Kara’s gaze on her, the almost irresistible pull of it, and forced herself to glance away, pretending to look at the clock. "What about now?” Lena asked. “What does Kara Danvers hope is waiting for her in the future? Another Pulitzer?” Kara grinned appreciatively. "I hope so. But besides that… I don't really know what I want." She looked thoughtful for a moment, dazzling Lena with a hesitant smile. "What do you think is waiting for future me?" 

"I have a spell book," Lena said drolly, "not a crystal ball but if you still want my opinion…” 

"You know I do."

"What did those Magic 8-Balls use to say? Future too hazy, try again later?" Lena wondered aloud before actually trying to imagine a potential future for Kara. 

"I most definitely see another Pulitzer. You might want to invest in a nicer shelf," she suggested. "A promotion or two is in the cards, as well. You'll drag me to a thousand more karaoke nights and spend the night dazzling anyone lucky enough to be in the audience."

"I do have impeccable taste in songs," Kara said, nodding along, clearly pleased. “What else?”

"I'm sure you'll save the world a dozen or more times between now and later." Her smile faded a little. "It will be dangerous but you'll come out the other side every time because I'd never let anything happen to you." "Ditto," Kara whispered beside her. "And you'll inspire countless people. With and without an 'S' on your chest. The way you always do. You probably won't even realize it, because that's you," Lena said, wondering how Kara could be so oblivious to the effect Kara had on people before remembering that she herself was guilty of being fooled by a pair of glasses. "You sound so sure," Kara said and there was a note of wonder in her voice. As if she couldn't help but believe every word.

Lena smiled, finally turning to face her. "It could turn out differently. Life is so..." The word messy leaped into her mind and she shoved it away impatiently. "unpredictable," she finished. "Never in a million years could I ever imagine that I would make so many friends or be able to do magic or meet someone like you. But I know you and that's enough to guess. To hope..." "And what do you, Lena? What's in your future? L-Corp growing large enough to absorb Queen Industries and Waynetech in a giant merger?" Kara brought her hands together like springing a trap and grinned. "Oh, I'm sure the FTC would just love that," Lena said, laughing as she tried to imagine the swathes of red tape she would need to hack through for such a deal to even be brought to the table. "In the future, less time in my office would be a plus. Beyond that..." She shrugged. "I have no idea." However, that wasn't quite true. As unpredictable, as messy, and as cruel as life could sometimes be, Lena knew one thing for certain. She hoped that Kara would remain a part of it. "Hopefully I put a little more good into the world. Maybe take a vacation. Or two. Or four. I think I'm due a little downtime. Spend more time with my best friend. Let the rest be a surprise for better or worse." "Definitely for the better," Kara said from beside her, leaning her head against Lena's shoulder as she reached for a blanket to throw over the both of them. 

Lena nodded in agreement, Kara's presence making it that much easier for her to do such a thing. To believe that tomorrow could be good. To hope.

[emelye]

There's a whole vibe to later seasons Garak and Bashir that is amplified in a lot of the extra-canonical works, particularly the ones written by Andy (or Andy and Sid in the case of the Nexus).

I call this vibe "Men will literally rebuild an entire system of government in their crush's image/Self-destructively attempt to revenge themself against an entire black-ops organization instead of going to therapy and having one honest conversation."

I have to believe this kind of ish would never have flown if Jadzia had still been around.

Garak has been changed by this man deeply and profoundly, and you know he just wants Bashir to really see that and validate him for it, but Bashir is absolutely blinkered by PTSD and rather than acknowledge his loss and trauma, he's going to project it all into something he can attack. It's the most Khan-like he's ever been. It's deeply ironic that Garak has learned so much from Bashir about the value of optimism and democracy and compassion, and instead of letting Garak reflect it back to him when he's at his lowest, Bashir is like, "nah, I'm good. Never mind that you're living proof that everything I believed in was valid and worthwhile, imma throw away my connections to friends and family and go ham on this organization that shook my worldview because wiping out an extrajudicial intelligence agency will most definitely restore my sense of humanity."

Like, I said. Jadzia would have sat on him until he drank his therapy juice if no one else would have. Sisko probably could have shut his god complex down pretty handily too, for that matter.

Meanwhile, instead of getting strapped and following Julian into his idiocy to keep him from killing himself, Garak has decided he's going to pine from afar and become a politician because there's nothing a more useful to a fledgeling government than a mouthpiece with a serious image problem.

This isn't criticism of the books or the characterizations, really. I just find I want to smush their faces like the idiot sandwiches they are and march them into an intensive inpatient program for no less than six months. A nice one, though, with good therapists and horses and a pool.

I just want them to have nice things and be happy. They saved the quadrant. They deserve to be saved themselves.