#we all say things irrationally when we’re mad or think things or do things even when we’re aware that it’s irrational in the moment

[titsthedamnseason]

one of my favorite taylor songs to listen to the first time was happiness because i have a visceral memory of hearing the line “i hope she’ll be a beautiful fool / who takes my spot next to you” and literally gasping out loud before hearing that the next line was basically taylor saying “oh no i take that back sorry” and letting out a little relieved breath and giggling like oh she gets me!

[spnexploration]

Pack chapter 17

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: Dean calls a family meeting.

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 16 <- -> Part 18

“-has to be me, obviously, but what about Mads?” I heard Sam saying as I walked down the corridor. I paused where I was, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

“It’s too dangerous, she’s not going,” Dean replied firmly. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have wanted her there.”

“I don’t, I agree it’s too dangerous. But Y/N is terrified of me currently-”

“She’s not terrified of you.”

“She is, Dean, and that’s ok. I get it. And we've been trying to stay out of your guys’ way, plus Madison feels guilty for suggesting Y/N comes to our room when she was upset-”

“Christ, this has to be the first time in history that I'm not irrationally blaming myself for things outside my control, and everyone else is.” There was a brief pause and then a sound like a hand slapping a thigh and Dean said, “RIGHT, we’re having a family meeting. Get the girls.”

I scampered away from the door, not wanting them to find me listening. My mind was reeling from hearing them, and I felt guilty and embarrassed.

I was luckily around the next corner of the corridor by the time Sam found me, so I could look like I was just walking through. “Dean wants to have a family meeting, can you go to the lounge please?”

“Umm, ok,” I said, trying not to look guilty. I am nonchalant, I told myself. I am unaware what this is about. This is a normal turn of events. I tried to force myself to act like I believed it

Sam turned and left, probably looking for Madison. I headed to the lounge, trying to calm my racing heart and not give myself away.

---

“Alright,” Dean said once we were all seated in the lounge. He looked relaxed, elbows on knees as he leant forward. I sat next to him, not touching, with Sam and Madison in the arm chairs that he'd moved to be opposite. “I think we need to address the elephant in the room.”

I pulled my knees to my chest. I couldn't help but feel that I was the elephant in the room.

“I chose to hunt the Rugaru,” Dean continued. “The Rugaru shot me. I probably ignored some symptoms that my wound was getting worse. My shoulder got infected. The stupid clinic has crap rules. Now, has anyone heard me say the words 'Madison’, 'Sam’ or ‘Y/N’ yet?”

He looked around expectantly until we all muttered variations of “no”. Madison was chewing her nails and even Sam looked a little uncomfortable.

“Right. Y/N went into shock because my shoulder got infected. We were separated because of a dumb clinic’s rules. My scent was wrong because I'm the idiot who got shot. So, tell me, who are we blaming?”

“It's not your fault you got shot!” Madison exclaimed.

“Thank you, Madi. I think I probably screwed up some things and you know, in hindsight, maybe we shouldn't have gone on that hunt. But the whole way along, we were doing the best we could with the information we had. And yeah, shit happened.”

He paused and looked around at us all, then sighed, “I'm not seeing a whole lot of believing me.”

“Sorry, Alpha,” Madison mumbled.

“Ok, Madi, before you were marked, do you remember the time Sam piked early and we stayed up late watching horror movies and you got scared? I remember it was the first time I’d had a girl in my lap who I wasn’t trying to sleep wi-” he suddenly glanced at me and cut himself off. Madi giggled behind her hand. “Anyway, you were so drunk I had to carry you to Sam's bed, and Sam grumped all the next day about having none of the fun and all of the clean up.”

“I remember, it was the worst hangover I’d ever had.”

Dean smirked, “Right. So, you were pretty cuddly with me, did it affect your bond with Sam?”

“No...”

“Right. Because your hormones didn't think Sam was dead.”

I sucked in a sharp breath before I could stop myself. Dean ran his hand down his face. I got the feeling he regretted that choice of words.

He looked back at Madi and said earnestly, “Mads, you did the right thing. You comforted your Pack mate, you did exactly what she needed in that moment. If you'd left her alone her body still might have done the exact thing, only she’d have gone through far more pain and suffering. And who knows, maybe even been worse. None of this is your fault.”

Tears were falling down Madi’s face. Dean opened his arms out wide and she quickly crossed to him, climbing into his lap to hug him. He held her for a moment before she got up, wiping away her tears. “Thank you, Alpha,” she said, heading back to her chair.

Dean turned to me and reached out to cup my face. “I'm going to get to you too because this isn't your fault either, but you're most important so you're going last, ok? I'm going to talk to Sam first, but you hang in there, sweetheart.”

I nodded slightly and he dropped his hand.

He looked to Sam, “Sammy, I think you're trying to organise everything and everyone to cover how uncomfortable you are with this situation and what you perceive to be your role in it. But dude, you did a great job. You saved my life, you got the monster killed, you protected two Omegas, you saved me again, and you saved my Omega. I'm probably shit at making it clear how much I appreciate you and your efforts in this Pack. So, you know, thanks man.”

Sam grinned at him, “That's gotta be the nicest thing you've ever said to me. You concussed or something?”

“Dude, I ain't communicated this much in my fucking life. I am having a fucking apoplexy on the inside.” Sam and Madison both laughed. 

Dean turned to me, “Alright, sweetheart. I'll be honest, I don't even know to convince you that this isn't your fault. I feel like I've been trying for days. I was hoping seeing that the others are similarly beating themselves up for no reason might help, but now I dunno...” he trailed off.

“Ok,” he said, clearly trying again, “Did you control the release of your hormones?” He looked at me expectantly until I shook my head. “Did you know what was happening to you?” I shook my head again. “Did you mean for any of this to happen?” I shook my head forcefully. “Right, so how the hell could this be your fault? It's a weird quirk of evolution to cater for scenarios where the mate really does die, and I'm unlucky enough to have accidentally triggered it. I'll be honest, I've died a few times, so it's probably karma or something for that-”

“You've DIED?!”

“Uhhh,” he looked sheepish, “Yeah. Angels were messing with us at one point. Fuck,” he ran his hand down his face, “This isn't the point, I am fucking this up.”

“You're cute when you're flustered,” I said quietly, a small smile on my face. “And you swear a lot more.” I was feeling less guilty, knowing that everyone else had been beating themselves up too even though it wasn't their fault. And Dean had made some good points.

“Has my adorableness convinced you?”

I smirked, “A little.”

“Ok, well, Sam is heading out soon to help out on a hunt-” Dean said, but was cut off by an anxious Madi.

“What? Where? By himself?!”

“He's going to help Claire with a hunt she found,” Dean answered as Sam reached out and took Madison's hand.

“I'm going with him,” Madi declared.

“No, you're not. It's too dangerous.”

“WHAT?! You'll happily let a literal child participate but not a grown ass woman who happens to be an Omega?!”

“Sam is going so that he can protect Claire, because we haven't managed to convince Claire not to go, and I'm not having her out there alone. If you're there too he won't necessarily be able to protect both of you.”

“It's not because you're an Omega, Mads,” Sam said earnestly. “We know you're a good hunter.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“So, as I was saying, Sam is heading off. Are we,” he gestured at himself, Madi and I, “going to be ok? Are we all going to stop tiptoeing around each other and feeling guilty all the time?”

Madi was still sulking from Sam leaving, so it probably wasn't the best time to try to ask her. But she still replied, if a little sullenly, “Yes, Alpha.”

He looked expectantly at me. “Yes, Alpha,” I muttered.

“Alright, if that's the best I'm going to get them I guess I'll take it,” Dean jokingly grumbled.

Sam reached out to Madi and she let herself be pulled to him, then he lifted her onto his lap. They started to snuggle and I looked away, trying to give them privacy.  Dean stood up and held out his hand to me. I took it and he led me out of the room.

---

The afternoon went fine, although Madi kept somewhat to herself. Dean cajoled her to come watch TV in the evening, sitting me on his lap and her in the recliner next to us. Every so often he reached out and stroked her hair, or squeezed her hand, or rubbed his wrist on her neck.

I felt weird being on his lap for so long and tried to get off, but he stopped me. “Are you not enjoying sitting here, or are you feeling like you should get off?” he whispered into my ear.

“It must be uncomfortable for you,” I whispered back.

He sighed, “Omega, for once, be selfish. You need my scent to feel better. So stay where you are, you are fine. I like having you here.”

I huffed a little but stayed put. He wrapped his arm around my waist and nuzzled my neck until I relaxed back into him.

“Having to spend time with me isn't so bad, is it?” he murmured. I laughed.

We kept watching, until a little while later Madi stood up and declared she was going to bed. “Ok, if you want to go get ready we’ll be there in a minute to all get settled,” Dean answered, reaching to turn off the TV.

“Umm, Alpha,” Madi mumbled, looking suddenly very unsure of herself, “I didn't think I would be sleeping with you.”

Dean frowned, “Madi, you hate sleeping alone.”

 She glanced nervously at me, then looked down. “I can stay in my normal room.”

Dean tapped my side lightly, “Can you stand up for me, sweetheart?” I did so, and he stood up behind me, reaching out for Madison.

“Madi,” he said gently but firmly, hands on her shoulders, “we talked about this. It's not your fault, and you're not in the way. Now just come with us to bed already.” He dropped his hands, sounding a little exasperated.

“It's ok, Madi,” I said tentatively. “You looked after me when Dean was gone. We can do the same for you.”

Madi gave me a tight smile, “Ok. Thanks.” I reached out and squeezed her hand.

We headed down the corridor, Madi splitting off to get ready in her own room, then heading to ours. I felt awkward, now that we came to actually go to bed all together. I crossed my arms in front of myself and hung back. Madi, who was normally incredibly confident and directing play, seemed to also be hanging back.

Dean looked between the two of us and sighed. “Anyone would think you two were about to broker a peace deal with North Korea, not sleep in a bed you've both been in multiple times before,” he half-muttered, a smirk on his face.

He lay in the centre of the bed and beckoned me over to one side and Madi to the other. I climbed into bed and he manoeuvred me up on to his chest, tucking my head in to the crook of his neck where I could scent him. “There you go, sweetheart,” he murmured.

He got Madison to lay next to him on the other side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she lay against him. I reached out and touched her hand. She took my hand and held it, which felt nice.

“Everyone ok?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Alpha. Thank you,” Madi replied, sounding more like herself.

Dean gently poked me until I answered. “Yes, Dean. It's all good now.”

.

.

.

Taglist:

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[xblackreader]

An Interview with My OTP: Attoye

Attuma | Okoye

Q1: Who’s the big spoon?

I am.

He is lying. When we sit on the couch, He loves to lay on my chest and have his hair petted like a baby.

But often, while we lay together in bed, your back is to my chest.

But where are we usually when we cuddle?

… on the couch.

Q2: WHO is the better cook?

I love my warriors cooking, but the way I cook is much easier.

They didn’t ask who’s the easiest cook, thick skull. I am the better cook, you should see how he licks his fingers after I made him seconds and thirds.

I change my answer, I like her mothers cooking the most.

…

Q3: WHO is more sentimental/affectionate? Romance wise?

Attuma is. But I’m catching up with him these days, when he came home, I had dinner ready for him and gave him a shoulder rub and told him how much I love him and he turned into goo.

They need not know all details of our relationship.

Says the blunt oversharer.

I was simply asking advice on the best way to ensure your pleasure is mind numbing each and everytime.

YOU ASKED KU’KUL’KAN FOR TIPS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE

Q4: WHO apologizes first?

I feel like we both do.

Then you feel wrong. It is always me.

…

Someone had to be the bigger person. She’s very stubborn.

I’m NOT.

if it was up to you, we would still be in a fight from last month.

You ass!

Q5: What’s one way your personalities compliment each other?

I’m very comfortable in a position of chase. Because of Okoye’s past experiences, she has trouble trusting others and frequently pushes them away. I have no problem standing firm and persevering her even when she rejects me.

I don’t reject you anymore… I love you.

I know my love. I knew before you did.

He would come to my house and bring me gifts and things, even when I’d insult him. I don’t know why I did that…

It’s because you’re a brat. And I am shameless in spoiling you further.

Im not a brat!? Wtf?

Q6: What are your respective love languages?

Gift giving and Words of Affirmation.

Quality time and words of affirmation.

(Smiles)

What?

Remember when I first kissed you?

…yes. I remember.

You punched me and then sat in my lap crying.

I hate you.

Q7: Who’s the funnier one?

Attuma is so funny to me, but he’s never funny on purpose.

When I tell jokes on purpose, she hates them.

They suck.

We’re not comedians. Our humor is dry.

Sarcasm is comedy. We cater to ourselves and we think we’re funny.

We are not, I’ve learned.

No, others don’t think so.

Q8: Who’s more likely to get jealous?

I am.

He is. I get jealous, sometimes but honestly he’ll shut down anyone before I can. But he gets jealous irrationally.

I’ve accepted this. I’m a jealous person.

He used to think everyone who looked at me wanted my heart.

It only makes sense. If I wasn’t your lover, I would probably kill whoever was.

…

That’s why I stay alert at all times. I do not want to lose my position.

Q9: How do you feel about PDA?

He would take me in front of all of Wakanda if I let him.

Yes. But I know her boundaries and would never risk hurting her feelings or reputation.

Q10: WHO wants kids? how many if any?

…I am prepared to love Okoye through whatever. Children are not a factor of importance in our love.

…

You can say the truth I won’t be mad.

I want ten of my own children. Gender does not matter as long as I may raise them up to one day surpass me.

TEN?!???

Let me know if you all want to ask specific characters from my stories questions? Or if you’d like I can do this again with your questions!! :P

[absolutesort]

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨   ;    ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴜᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #7 !

how are you feeling about movie night ? did anything surprise you ? 

“ well i’m obviously not feeling totally yassified right now, what with everything that went down. ”  it sucks, but ultimately she’s the only one she can blame for what feels like her worst night in the villa since the casa recoupling.  “ i think my own fuckin’... stupidity surprised me. like, i definitely could’ve handled things better. ”  if she’d remembered to engage her brain for a single hot second, but no, frankie could never.  “ the adela and josh thing kinda surprised me, but also it didn’t ?  i also feel like that’s not even a thing. i mean adela and me flirt more than they do, and i know miles has nothing to worry about there, so it’s probably pretty harmless. the dylan comments were kinda shady, though. like… girl. you’re my friend and i love you but don’t do my boy dirty like that. ”

what are your thoughts on romi and marcus’s decision to leave ? 

“ it is what it is. i didn’t really know romi, honestly, and i think they liked it that way, but marcus was one of my closest friends in here. ”  she still thinks about the night that marcus had crawled into the daybed with her and miles for a snuggle and a kiss with fondness.  “ if miles and i are ever lookin’ for a third… i’m pretty sure marcus is the first guy we’d call. ”  she starts to laugh, but her face becomes suddenly sombre, smile sinking as the realisation hits that she’d actually have to have miles back for that to happen.

are you happy in your couple or do you think your head could be turned ?

 “ i mean… i don’t know. technically miles and i are still coupled up, and he said he still wants to be with me. so yeah, we’re still together just… stepping it back a notch. which is probably a good thing. my head’s been kinda scrambled ever since we got back from casa, and i haven’t been fair, making him wait for me to figure out what i want. when miles said he wanted to get to know charlene, i just got so irrationally upset. like i’ve never felt that strongly about callie talking to other people.  i thought i knew what i wanted, and then he made that speech about wanting to be all-in, which was so cute, and while i want that... hearing it in front of everybody... i got scared and changed my mind. but only for a moment. like, a moment of madness. it was just one bead in a long string of moments where the constant has been wanting miles.

“ when i wake up, he’s the first person i wanna talk to, and he’s the person i want by my side when i fall asleep. ”  deeply cringe, but if she can’t be vulnerable in the diary room how the hell does she expect to do it in front of him.  “ the other day i told him, even if they sent in olivier giroud, i don’t think my head would be turned, and like… i was joking, obviously, but i think it’s actually true ?  because he wouldn’t have miles’ sense of humour, or his amazingly warm heart, or serve eggs and bacon in a smiley face the way miles does. he wouldn’t get me the way miles does. plus, giroud’s french. there’s no way i’m getting in another seb situation where i gotta explain every reference that comes out of my mouth. ”

what are your thoughts on santiago and victoria ? are either of them your type ? do you think your partner would be interested in them ?

“ if miles is into them, then good luck to him. honestly, it’s pretty hard to think about whether i’d be interested in either of them right now. ” she sighs, until a producer prompts her to elaborate.  “ santiago’s hot, sure, but everybody in here’s hot. you have to do more than just look good to get my attention. and it was super nice of victoria to choose me for a date, and say she liked my desert even thought we both knew it wasn’t that great. but yeah… i didn’t feel a spark or like… that magnetic pull that i’m like looking for, y’know, like ? ”  she mimes yanking a lasso towards her.  “ when you’re in a room with loads of people and yet your body’s always kinda facing them. or like you’re just intuitively aware of where they are, not even in a possessive way just… we pay attention to the things we’re interested in. ”

are you grafting right now ? if so, who is at the top of your list ?

“ the only person i’m interested in grafting is miles. i think this situation’s just made me realise that i can’t not have him in my life. i know i have to work to earn him back, and it won’t be easy, but he’s worth the effort, and when it’s him it doesn’t feel like effort, anyway. nothing about him feels like a chore. i’ll do it gladly and purposefully if that’s what he needs to convince him i’m ready to be his, in whatever capacity he’ll have me. and i’ll deck a bitch if i have to. ”  her fingers come up, gesturing in an ‘i’m watching you’ motion between herself and the camera lens. 

[abumbledbee]

Tubbo and Wilbur’s Parallels

tw/ mentions of death / suicidal ideations

“If I can’t become the next Schlatt, then you can’t become the next Wilbur.”

This is a quote from Tubbo, given just before the exile arc began, when he was arguing with Tommy. Tommy accused him of acting like Schlatt because he was putting the nation's needs before him. Tubbo, offended at the comparison, reminds Tommy that he is acting irrationally, and is reminding Tubbo of Wilbur.

When we speak of parallels between Tubbo and Tommy with Schlatt and Wilbur, we’re often inclined to compare Tubbo with Schlatt, because they worked together so closely during Schlatt’s reign, and the complicated relationship between them which ultimately ended up with Schlatt having Tubbo lose a canon life for his betrayal. And due to Tommy and Wilbur's close relationship before and up to Wilbur's betrayal, it's easy to draw comparisons between them as well.

But I think we often overlook a lot of similarities between Tubbo and Wilbur that are worth delving into more, and the farther Tubbo goes with his character the more comparisons I keep catching. At this point I think Tubbo's character parallels Wilbur's far more than Tommy's does.

Wilbur was the founder of L’Manberg, and its first president. It’s a nation he built from the ground up, which started as nothing more than a front for his drug lab but grew into something bigger and more meaningful than Wilbur ever planned for. While on the server he found love (?) and had a child, Fundy, and then things began to get rocky as they fought for their independence against Dream.

Ultimately Wilbur fails to protect L’Manberg and their independence is bought by way of Tommy sacrificing his discs in return. Wilbur ends up losing his country by way of being exiled when Schlatt wins office, and we watch his descent into madness as he realizes how much he cared for the country and how no matter what he does, what it once was is gone forever in his eyes. The Pogtopia arc originated with Wilbur trying to come up with a plan to secure his presidency again and to reclaim his country. It ends with Wilbur refusing his original role and ultimately destroying the very thing he created along with himself because he couldn’t bear to see what it or himself had become.

In Wilbur’s darkest moments we see them play out on screen, his button room is one of the most iconic scenes we got during this period of the storyline. Wilbur in an enclosed space, surrounded by the signs reminding him of what L’Manberg once was and what it would never be again. He's hounded by his thoughts, his mental state shattered and he no longer believes there's any other course of action.

Ultimately this is his final resting place, the room where he sets off the TNT that destroys L’Manberg for the first time. He begs his father, who had just arrived to the server because he was worried when Wilbur stopped sending him letters, to kill him. And Phil does.

L’Manberg’s story does not end here, despite what Wilbur did. It begins again, with Tubbo and a crater. We talk about Tubbo being president of L’Manberg as though he was just taking on the role and a nation the way Schlatt did, but in reality, he founded it again. Tubbo, along with Phil and others, REBUILT an entire city on the rubble of its former life. Tubbo’s L’Manberg is in fact nothing like Wilbur’s, except for the parts Tubbo purposely recreated, like the camar van.

The major difference in their takes on presidency is that Tubbo did this for Tommy, for Wilbur, for the original citizens. He took on the role of President out of duty to Wilbur who passed it down to him when he felt unfit to rule again. He did his best on behalf of everyone who fought on Pogtopia's side, to reclaim a nation they all had lost. In the end he lost it one final time, chunk errored by way of Phil, Techno, and Dream.

And from here on we see a new Tubbo. The bright-eyed, president-elect is no more, and instead he begins to isolate himself from the main server. He retreats to a snowy biome separated by water, and builds a house and gives it a name. Snowchester. Now, most people wouldn't give just a house a name. Even from the start Tubbo was creating a new community, without even realizing. Eventually Snowchester grew to be a legitimate colony of its own, with Jack Manifold, Foolish, and Puffy all moving in and setting up shop. He declares independence, and in doing so, decides he must ensure it any way possible. He's seen what happened to Wilbur's L'Manberg, how helpless the other man was in keeping it safe. He knows he failed his own L'Manberg, and he will not let it happen again.

He hatches a plan with Jack, and the answer is.... Nukes. A bomb, in other words. But instead of using it to destroy his nation, it'll be used to protect it. Tubbo designs it, and they ensure it works with a test launch before decommissioning the remaining two. Time passes and eventually, he's opening up to people again. Tubbo marries Ranboo and they adopt a child together.

Suddenly it's not just Tubbo, it's Tubbo and Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael, and then Tommy is gone. It's shocking, and unexpected, and he doesn't believe it at first. He's been so beaten down under Schlatt's regime he no longer openly shows his emotions, the closest we get to seeing his true grief during this time is when he stares at the memorial he just finished for Tommy in Snowchester. Then comes the anger.

He wants to know how this could've happened, he tries to investigate it, but before he can get too deep into it, Tommy's back. Revived, and Tubbo has had to experience losing him and gaining him back again twice now. Inevitably, like with most of Tommy's plans, Tubbo is roped into his next one. And it's a doozy. Tommy reveals that he wants to kill Dream, to ensure he can never revive anyone else, and Tubbo reluctantly accepts.

One of the most troubling moments during his investigative time was when he made a room for him to fill with his notes and evidence. At first glance it is deeply reminiscent of Wilbur's button room, the walls covered in signs and his lectern in the middle of the room mimicking the button. Because Tommy returns before he can get further in his investigating we'll likely never see this room again, but seeing him make it to begin with filled me with unease.

Tubbo has lost his fear of death. It's first noticed at Doomsday, when he defeatedly jumped in front of Techno's rocket launchers over and over again. We see inklings of it again and again, such as when he scoffs at his chat begging him not to investigate Techno for the TNT at the prison, saying he'd die. Tubbo just replies with "So be it." and continues on. We see it again when he and Ranboo investigate the Eggpire and get caught, and he continues to fight with them until he's only got a few hearts left. He mentions feeling exhilarated, full of life from almost losing his last. It's a reminder of the violent life he's had til this point, his time in the SMP filled with war and bloodshed since the very beginning. He's not afraid to fight despite being on his last life, in fact at times he seems almost ready to end it all.

Yesterday's lore stream was unsettling in a few different ways. The first being Tubbo casually mentioning how his eyes play tricks on him. It's a throwaway mention towards possible hallucinations or paranoia. He also refers to himself as paranoid later on when he's worried someone's hurt Michael, and it bothers him so bad that the next minute he rushes over to ensure Michael is safe. He is willing to do whatever he must now, to ensure Michael can grow up safely, much like Wilbur wanted for Fundy, with no Dream to terrorize the server any longer.

Wilbur's initial wish for L'Manberg once it was fully formed was for it to be a nation his son could grow up safely in, with all the possibilities at his fingertips, until their independence was threatened and he had to focus on leading an army instead of being a father.

But even more upsetting than that, is Tubbo's admission to how he designed the nuke. He tells Jack after one is stolen that there is a manual detonation option, a dead man's switch. He designed the bomb to have a suicidal solo detonation option as a last resort, so if he ever needed to use it and Jack wasn't there he could take matters into his own hands. Tubbo was so ready to ensure if something happened to his self-made colony he could deal his revenge even at the cost of his final life. His reasoning for making the nukes was not for self-defense, it was so he could finally take a swing back at whoever took from him again. He'd seen L'Manberg destroyed twice by people who initially sided with it, had 2 canon lives ripped from him by way of betrayals. He might not have thorns on his armor but by god will his death have them, and heaven help whoever is on the receiving end of his suicide-start nuke.

This mimics Wilbur's final steps but from the logical, more level-headed mind of Tubbo. He's created a bomb, a weapon of destruction he's willing to die with. Wilbur wanted to die with L'Manberg, Tubbo is willing to die for Snowchester.

[taetaespeaches]

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 2.3K

a/n: Hi, lovelies! In this drabble, Peaches gets jealous over Tae getting close with a music collaborator and it leads to a small but a bit heated argument. It just kind of shows how Tae and Peaches handle conflict in their relationship. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading! :))

EYES peering over the top of your book, you inhaled deeply at the small smile tugging on your boyfriend’s lips as he stared down at his phone. Taehyung had been like that for most of the twenty minutes since he’d gotten to your place.

He was sat at the opposite end of the couch, you perpendicular to him on your own respective side as you watched him text his collaboration partner. Frustration building, you closed your book and tossed it to the coffee table, drawing Tae’s eyes for one of the first times that night.

You met his widened gaze. “I can’t focus,” you answered his silent question, the man nodding as he kept staring at you. His hand curled around your ankle, soothing your limb for a moment before you pulled your legs off the couch and stood up.

Without a word, you left the room to the kitchen, feeling Tae’s watchful eyes on you. Standing above the sink, you prepared to do the dishes before your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I told you I’d do the dishes, Peaches,” he said gently, his nose nuzzled against your neck.

“I just thought you were too busy on your phone,” you told him coldly, Taehyung looking up at you.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked sheepishly, you sighing.

“I’m annoyed with you,” you corrected, Taehyung cocking his head to get a better look at your face.

“Why?” He asked tentatively. You were sure he already knew why, but he must have needed to hear it.  

“You spent the entire day with her in the studio and now you’re spending the evening smiling at your phone as you text her,” you told him coldly, plugging the sink to fill it with water. You were never one to evade conflict, which was something Taehyung appreciated about you. Neither of you ever played games with each other when it came to your emotions.

“You’re jealous?” He asked, a small amused smile forming on his lips.

“Of course, I’m jealous,” you told him, looking down at him with a glare.

The man let out a light laugh, dismissing your frustration. “You shouldn’t be, Peaches.”

Shrugging him off, Taehyung backed away slightly, removing his arms from your body in concern. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” you told him angrily, not impressed by him trying to make light of your jealousy, no matter how silly he found it to be.

“Wait, you’re like jealous?” He emphasized the word as if it gave it a different meaning. You supposed it did, because you weren’t feeling the cute form of jealousy where you pouted and acted protective of him from whoever was trying to steal his attention. You were feeling the bad kind of jealousy where doubts started to seep into your thoughts, along with all of your insecurities.

“Yes,” you told him shortly. “Obviously.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” he assured you, staring at you intently as you avoided meeting his eyes. “Peaches.”

“Ever since you started the collab you’ve been talking about her constantly and-”

“Not her, I’ve been talking about the collab,” he interrupted, making you turn to look at his face, his expression showing his quick rise to anger. “Because I’m doing a collab. My first one outside of the group,” he explained.

“You’re sitting there on the couch with me, smiling at your fucking phone, Taehyung,” you lectured, your boyfriend taking a deep breath.

“I’m talking to a friend and collaborator about our collaboration. You don’t have a reason to be jealous,” he told you again, the words just pissing you off further.

“And yet here I am being jealous, so explain that to me,” you glared at him. When he shrugged, you huffed. “I have reason to be jealous, and that’s on you.”

“That’s not on me,” he defended crossly, his eyebrows pulled together. “That’s on you and your irrationality.” The words were mean and you both knew it, but he stood stubbornly as he expected your irate response.

“Oh, fuck off,” you spewed, crossing your arms across your chest. Taehyung shot you a look with just as much anger as you, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. “Call me irrational again and you’ll see how irrational I can be.” Taehyung kept staring at you, giving no indication of saying more, but also giving you no sign of an apology. “My feelings are valid, don’t dismiss them.”

“I’m not dismissing them but I’m not going to entertain them, and I’m not going to take blame for your crazy accusations,” he told you, anger clouding his judgement and choice of words.

“Crazy?” You asked through a bitter laugh. “Now I’m crazy?”

“If you think I’m cheating on you, then yeah, you’re crazy,” he told you, breaking eye contact for the first time. He couldn’t hold your gaze when he was speaking to you like that, but his pride was too overbearing to allow him to backdown.

With your chest heaving as you fumed, you shook your head. “Well if there’s one way to make me act crazy, it’s by calling me crazy,” you told him coldly. “Keep it up.”

“Jesus, Peaches, I’m just saying if I tell you that you have no reason to be jealous, just listen to me,” he stated in frustration.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me to listen to you, your actions speak louder than your words, which by the way have been all about this collab anyway,” you said, fully aware of how ridiculous and unsupportive you sounded.

What shot across Taehyung’s face wasn’t anger but rather sadness as he shifted on his feet. “I know I’ve been talking about the collab a lot,” he started, his voice low. “I’ve just been excited about it.”

Fuck. You knew the he was excited about the collaboration, and you wanted him to share all of it with you. His connection with the girl was just grating on your insecurities, and you hated how that was making you react.

“I know you’re excited, I’m excited too, Tae, but you’ve just gotten so close to each other the past week,” you told him, your sadness seeping into your tone, your expression dropping.

“We’re friends,” he reminded you, toying with the bracelets around his wrist.

“We were friends,” you pointed out, Taehyung looking at you in surprise. His wide-eyed expression looked so innocent, you immediately cursed yourself for insinuating that he was repeating your love story with someone else, as if it was some pattern he repeated over and over.  

A tense silence filled the room, a stare off ensuing between you and your lover as you both waited for the other to make a move. You couldn’t read the expression on Taehyung’s face, or maybe you could but didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d upset him that much. He looked angry and disappointed and beyond hurt.

Suddenly, Taehyung shook his head as he began to turn his back on you, panic rising within you, your heart racing as anxiety hit you like a train. “What are you doing?” You asked in haste, the speed of the words giving away your alarm.

“I don’t want to have this conversation anymore,” he told you, though he didn’t take a step away from you yet. “Not if you’re going to reduce me to some asshole who just tries to get all of his friends in bed.”

“I didn’t-,” you started somberly.

“Didn’t you?” He cut you off sharply. “I pined after you for years, I was in love with you for years,” he reminded you, “And you’re going to throw that in my face as if I just fall for anyone?”

“Tae-”

“I’m in love with you, I’m committed to you,” he pointed out. “I take that very seriously, if I didn’t why would I wait six fucking years to tell you? I mean, jesus christ, I wouldn’t even admit it to myself,” he told you, his volume increasing as he got more worked up.

“I know,” you assured, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize now, you were very firm in your stance just a moment ago,” he refused your apology. “You know, I don’t appreciate the doubt.”

“I know,” you repeated lamely.

“I gave my heart to you and you gave yours to me,” he told you with tears gathering along his bottom lash line. “I’ve made it my whole life goal to protect your heart, I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“I know that, Tae,” you said again.

“Do you?” He asked, tightening his jaw as soon as he posed the question in an attempt to compose himself.

“Yes, I do,” you insisted. Directing his gaze to the kitchen cabinet to his side, he took a deep calming breath. “Tae, I’m not trying to doubt you, I’m just feeling insecure,” you admitted.

“What do you have to be insecure about?” He asked you, turning to meet your gaze.

“Is that a real question?” You asked with a hint of a disbelieving laugh.

“Yeah,” he told you, though you realized with the pureness in his expression that he wasn’t asking because he was dismissing what you believed were your shortcomings. Rather, he genuinely couldn’t understand what you could be insecure about. And that’s when you realized how pointless the whole argument was, because when Taehyung saw you, he saw perfection.

It’s not that he thought you were perfect, he just thought that every single thing about you, flaw or not, was remarkable and worthy of all the love in his heart.

You sighed, dropping your eyes to the floor, wishing it would swallow you up into some time vortex that would allow you to go back to when these feelings first invaded your mind. You’d stop them right then and there, reminding yourself that even though you didn’t see what Taehyung saw, he saw everything in you.

“I wouldn’t even date other people for our entire friendship because no one compared to you. No one has ever been enough since I met you, Peaches,” he spoke overtop your consuming thoughts, you looking up at him tearfully. “You’re my future, and you’ve been my future since we were teenagers.”

“I’m sorry, Dearest,” you pouted.

Taehyung sighed, watching you for a moment as he processed everything that just happened. However, when he saw the first tears fall down your cheeks, his stubborn demeanor melted as he opened his arms to welcome you into a hug. Shuffling the few feet to him, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, his folding over your shoulders, pulling you close.

“I know you have your insecurities,” he whispered into your hair before leaving a kiss to the top of your head. “But you can’t use those against me like this,” he told you gently.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you apologized again.

“I’m sorry too,” he said sincerely. “I’m sorry I made you feel so jealous, and I’m sorry I dismissed your feelings.”

“I just really love you a lot,” you mumbled against his chest, Taehyung chuckling against your hair.

“I love you, Peaches, you know that,” he told you, reminding you of how dedicated he was to you and your relationship. Nodding against his chest, he smiled. “Look at me, baby.”

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you found him flashing you a soft smile. “We’re ok,” he told you.

“Ok,” you agreed just as Tae leaned toward you, catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Now,” he started, turning you around in one quick twirl so he was holding you in a back hug, gently guiding you toward as he waddled behind you. “You’re going to stand right here, just like this, as I wash these dishes like I promised you I’d do, alright?”

Giggling, you rested your head back against him, looking up at his cheerful face. “Okay,” you responded, dragging out the word with a sigh.

“You wanted my attention,” he reminded you, “now good luck getting rid of it.”

“I don’t want rid of it,” you spoke through a pout, the man chuckling.

“Good,” he grinned before placing a kiss to your temple. “Oh, but first,” he said almost giddily, “do you have your phone? I left mine on the couch.”

“Why?” You asked hesitantly, pulling the phone out of the hoodie pocket, holding it up for him to take. He easily typed the passcode in with one hand, opening up your music app.

“Donny Hathaway or John Lennon?” He asked, you gasping in surprise.

“Tae, no,” you whined, the man gigging behind you.

“Pick one,” he insisted.

With a groan, you lightly bit his wrist that was slung around your chest. “Hathaway,” you relented, Taehyung smiling against your temple as he searched up Donny Hathaway’s cover of ‘Jealous Guy’, a song all about letting your insecurities make you jealous, causing harm to your lover. The song was actually pretty heavy in meaning, but you and Tae had used it in the past to poke fun at yours and his jealous tendencies. It was a way to make light of the situation and turn it into a joke as a means to move past it.

“I was dreaming of the past,” Taehyung sang next to your ear, you elbowing him gently in the ribs, the man giggling as he pressed a series of kisses to your cheek. “I love you,” he told you once more.

“I love you more,” you replied.

As he started the dishes, you standing between him and the sink making the task much more difficult than it needed to be, you were reminded yet again how lucky you were to have someone who made it so easy to forgive, easy to forget. By the time the dishes were all washed, the front of your hoodie was soaked and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. And your heart? Well that was full of love for one Kim Taehyung.

[shoichee]

Hey! I read your Kise imagine recently and I adore it, it's rare to see someone write about manga!kise and I really loved it. Furthermore your writing is so so good to read 🥰 I wanted to ask you Kise x reader prompt 1! I would really like to read about him in such a situation ☺ Thank you Iain advance 😘

WAHHH TYSM ANON <33 IM SO HAPPY HEHE, and phew yall thought asshole kise was something but... have yall heard of TEIKO-era asshole kise??! NO?? dw, bc he’s debuting here // i wanted to really showcase his dual sides through more of dialogue (so we won’t really see what’s in Kise’s mind for this), so here it is hope you enjoy this anon! 

Kise x Reader

Prompt: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Word Count: 2120

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it, Kise.”

“Huh?” he mocks with a condescending tone. “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d pull shit out of their ass like my last ‘ex-girlfriend.’ Just because I let you hang around me doesn’t mean you can parade around campus with an inflated ego.”

Your hands shake furiously at your sides, trying not to punch the basketball player square in the face.

“Me? With an ego? Look who’s damn talking!” you seethe. “I’m tired of the fact that we keep playing this stupid flirting game for months, only for it to go absolutely nowhere!”

“Have you ever stopped to use your brain and think about how flirting inherently is done in good casual fun?” Kise explains slowly, implying that you were the immature one in the situation. “Meanwhile, you have the audacity to get mad at me when you’re the one who’s using me for your own selfish gain!” Kise sends a heated glare but his eyes were tinged with betrayal.

“What the hell are you even talking about? Are you out of your mind?”

“Fuck this,” he scoffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m leaving, I’m not dealing with this shit anymore. If you want attention, I’m not gonna entertain you anymore.”

“No, you will not leave!” you yell, trying to stop Kise in his tracks. He merely ignores you as he holds up a hand to do a wave with his back to you. “You’re going to explain what the hell you were talking about!”

You sprinted and held onto his sleeve to tug him back to face you, only to be met by the most bone-chilling gaze from him. You would’ve absolutely cowered in his presence if it wasn’t for the fact that you were irrationally angry from the false accusations Kise threw at you prior. You can definitely tell that Kise was biting his inner cheek to keep himself reasonably calm.

“Ryōta,” you say.

“Don’t call me by my first name anymore,” he says flatly.

“Where did you get the idea that I was using you?”

“Hah! Why? Does it matter? Are you gonna go to them and try to threaten them after? It’s so clear from the way you’re talking right now that you only see me as a prize to show off.” You inhale a huge breath to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“I never saw you as some object, Ryōta,” you mildly scoff. “Let me make myself clear. All I wanted was a clear answer from you every time I asked you if you wanted something serious, but every single damn time, you changed the subject or never answered the question!”

“It’s all done in good fun. Does it really need to be serious?”

“But I want something serious with you!”

Kise merely turns away in silence, but you can see his body slightly tremble.

“... Ryōta?”

“Don’t lie to me like that…” he says, slightly sucking a breath. “... Look, if you really wanna use me to boost your popularity, just… just come clean, okay? I’ll go along with it if you tell me now. After all, we’ve been… good friends.”

“Lie? Why would I lie? I never thought once of using you or having any motives other than to get to know you personally as a friend, Ryōta,” you say, looking down on the grip you had on his sleeve still.

“What reason is there to know someone like this other than to activate a ticking time bomb while playing a game to pass that time? Isn’t that how it’s always been? Isn’t that what we are right now?”

Your senses tell you that something deeper beyond this surface argument has been troubling him. You slowly let go of his sleeve, before turning away with a sigh, leaving Kise absolutely confused.

“I think we both need to cool our heads,” you sigh. “We’ve both said too much, and… just… forget what I said, okay? And I’ll forget about what you told me.” Kise’s eyes widen at your statement.

“(y/n)-cchi…?”

“We can still do light-hearted banter like we always do the next time we see each other, okay Kise?” Your fists on your sides tremble before you hold up your head to give him a cheerful smile that’s eerily all too familiar to his own. You turn to walk away, but his heart squeezes painfully at the sight of your back to him like this. You’re so far from him. So far.

“Hold it, now…” he says, slightly sprinting to catch up to you. He grabs your hand, still balled tightly by your side. “You’re cruel, you know that? Demanding me not to leave but then leaving the conversation on your own accord? You’re a hypocrite.” He spins you around to see your eyes barely struggling to hold back fresh tears. Little did he know that your countenance was a mirror to his own.

“... Our heads aren’t in the right place, Kise. You should probably let go.”

“I probably should, huh…” he says, but still giving no sign that he was actually going through with it.

“Knowing you, you’d really hold my fist until someone has to actually separate you from me.”

“And knowing you, you’d probably punch me before anyone else had the chance to do so.”

“You know me so well, hm?” you muse, a tiny curl of your lip a different world than the one you gave moments before.

“... No,” he says with a slight frown. “I don’t think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t know you enough either, Kise.”

Silence falls between the two of you, frail as thin ice, before you eventually break it.

“... You’re right, this whole friendship we have right now… it’s a time bomb. It’s bound to fail and fall apart.”

“W-Wait,” Kise slightly says in shock. “That was… I didn’t mean it like—”

“No healthy relationship of any kind would last if we keep dancing around each other like this. I wanna be honest with you for once… I… don’t wanna do this banter anymore. I don’t wanna do these flirting games. I’m kinda tired of it. Especially when you always keep me at a distance.”

“Pfft, (y/n)-cchi,” he snorts loudly, flashing his sunny smile. “I’m practically so close to you holding your hand!”

“You know exactly what I mean,” you sigh, and you avert your gaze away. “You feel so far. I just… you feel so out of reach even when I’m in the same room as you… even as of now. I just want to know where we’ll end up.”

You firmly shake his grip off you, watching his hand falling back to his side as he does nothing but stare at you. You don’t know if he’s angry, offended, or shocked, but whatever his expression was, you couldn’t tell, not when you still stared at the concrete to the side rather than at him.

“Of course I wanna be friends with you,” you continue. “But can you blame me for believing that there’s something more between us when we do romantic gestures and flirting for months on end? If we’re just going to be friends, that’s fine, but I’d prefer if you’d also stop addressing me with -cchi, just to draw a clear boundary between us.” You finally look up to see Kise, but to your own shock, he looks quite bitter.

“You say that you’re confused about what we are, but then you go prattle to everyone else that you’re my significant other when we haven’t even talked a single thing about being a serious thing. You’re so fucking confusing.”

“I… did no such thing?” Your eyes, still puffy from the tear ducts, shine in genuine bewilderment.

“You… didn’t?”

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I… um… oh…” All he could do was to stand there completely stupefied, mouth gaping as multiple realizations suddenly hit him like bricks. He rubs his neck as he shamefully looks away.

“So tell me,” you slowly say, giving him a more bone-chilling gaze than the one he gave you. “What exactly have you been hearing in the hallways?” You both stand there in silence again as Kise struggles to think of a way to explain it without sounding completely dumb.

“Okay, look… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have listened to the rumors so easily, especially since I despise them too, but… they were about you, and I just couldn’t help myself…” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I… the thought of you getting close to me to use me really, really hurts.”

“And you thought just cutting me off on the spot was the most reasonable decision you can think of?”

“H-Hey…! Don’t put it like that! I thought I knew you well, but when I heard what people gossiped, my mind just went somewhere, and I thought maybe I misread you at some point. If you really did have ulterior motives, cutting you off wouldn’t be as easy as that other girl. Because I… w-wait! Where are you going?!”

“Home, Kise,” you flatly say. “It’s after school after all.”

“At least hear what I have to say!” He tries to catch up with you, but you only speed walk to outpace him. “Let me explain myself!”

“Hypocrite~” you say, using Kise’s mocking voice. “I don’t recall you letting me explain myself in the beginning.”

“(y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! I’ll pay for all the outings we’ll do this week! And um… I’ll always talk to you if something’s bothering me—don’t ignore me!”

“Didn’t I tell you not to use -cchi?” you sigh, stopping abruptly, causing Kise to accidentally bump against you. “I’ll forgive you, but we’re still only friends. I guess I’ll apologize for assuming things on my end, too.” Kise drops his head on your shoulder from behind, and you only roll your eyes in amusement at the familiar contact. “Oh dear, Kise. I didn’t think you were the type to be so clingy after a fight.”

“Okay, I’ll ‘fess up,” he says, voice muffled by your uniform blazer. “Even though we’ve always gotten along so well, there’s always been a part of me who’s been on the lookout for any possible signs that you only saw me for my reputation. While I enjoyed having you around, I had always been ready to cut you off if I saw anything suspicious, but… lately the thought of letting you go ached so much… and then I heard what the other students were talking about… how you were acting the entire time… how you somehow screwed over other people before… couldn’t really think properly after that.”

“Boo hoo,” you huff. “Do you want a kiss to make you feel better?”

“... I actually do.”

“I think our heads haven’t completely cooled down. I’m going ahead.” You were about to walk away, even though you very much enjoyed his head on your shoulder, but his arms wrap around you to stop moving any further from his side.

“You said that you wrongly assumed what we were…” he whispers. “But you’re actually right. We’ve been more than friends for a while without me really acknowledging it,” he chuckles at your groan, “I guess you really do know me well… I’m really attached to you… but it’s not fair that you’re so collected even when I’m hugging you like this.”

“Kise, you’re an idiot, do you know that?” you snort. “How are you hugging me but not noticing how fast my heart is beating?”

“H-Hey! Can you call me by my first name again? I said it without really thinking, okay? It hurts me every time you do that.” He gives the most comical pout, but you only punch the top of his head on your shoulder before walking ahead.

“I’m still mad at you. I’m going home.”

“(y/n)-cchi, w-wait! Let me walk you home, then!”

“Don’t call me that either. I’m still mad at you.”

“But aren’t we dating now? I can call you that if we’re a thing.”

“But I’m still mad. You still said all those horrible things, and that stung. You think you’re the only one hurting right now?”

“I’m really, really sorry! I’ll make it up to you, and I won’t say anything like that again, and…”

“You’re not being really convincing.”

“I know I was being immature and the one with the inflated ego, and I said things that aren’t remotely true—”

You sigh before you turn back to a panicking Kise behind you.

“Then you better make it up to me by cuddling me and telling me some sweet nothings, because I can really use that right now, Ryōta.”

[wowitsel]

meeting the team

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

masterlist

Summary: You and Spencer have a big age gap, and when you meet the team, they have some things to say.

Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: age gap relationship (13 years), arguing

Category: angst to fluff

As you close the clasp on your necklace, you’re finally all dressed and ready for dinner with your boyfriend’s infamous team. You and Spencer had been dating for 7 months, although both of you had been very hesitant to let each other meet the important people in each other's lives, because of the obvious age difference between the two of you. With him being 33, and you being 20, there was bound to be some judgment from some people. Because everything went relatively smooth with your friends and family, you were feeling pretty confident heading into this dinner.

As you walk out of your shared room, you see Spencer standing near the front door, holding the car keys in his hand. He silently hands them to you while he says, “Can you drive? Please bub?”

“Fine, but you owe me. You know you're not the only one who hates driving.” You replied as you kiss him on the cheek and rush out the door.

“Well then, thank you, sweetie. Now hurry! We’re going to be late!” He tells you.

You chuckle at him, get in your car, shut the door, then start driving.

+++

You finally arrive at Rossi’s “mansion”, a whole five minutes late. You were not fazed by this, but it was safe to say that Spencer was. You moseyed out of the car, not in any rush, but then he nearly shouted, “C’mon! We’re already late Y/n!”

“Hey, calm down Spence. I’m sure we’re not the only ones late.” You said to him, but it was safe to say that you were very wrong.

+++

When the two of you walked in the door, you saw all the people that Spence had told you about, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, and Alex Blake. All the eyes were on you.  And you knew exactly why. Your age gap wasn't exactly a secret, seeing as you looked around your own age, but you had assumed that Spencer had told them about it.

“Welcome, Reid! And umm…” David Rossi said as he struggled for a name.

“Uh, It 's Y/n.” You said awkwardly as you went to go sit down at the table.

“Well I’m David Rossi, It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I know… Spencer told me all about you guys.”

You could cut the tension with a knife, but nevertheless, JJ propositioned you and Spence, “So, Spence, Y/n, do you two want some wine?”

When Spencer declined, everyone was quick to comfort him, remembering his past with addiction, but then you had to decline: “Umm no thanks. I’m underage”.

“Don’t you think you’re too young for Reid?” Morgan inquires.

“You can’t even drink yet. Are you sure you should be dating him?” Hotch asks.

“Shouldn’t he be with someone closer to his own age?” JJ questions.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the questions, you burst out, saying, “Hey! I’m 20, not 16, I'm plenty mature, and I’m not some teenager who will always act irrationally.”

“Actually babe, the prefrontal cortex, which deals with emotional reactions, isn’t fully developed until 25-” Spencer stops when he sees the look on your face.

There is an overwhelming silence that ensues until Blake decides to break the ice, and try and diffuse the tension: “So, Y/n, where do you go to college?” Assuming that you went to college because of your age.

“Actually I didn’t go to college.” You reply.

You take a deep breath, and then begin to go on a long rant about the elephant in the room: “Listen, I can hear what’s going on inside all your guys’ heads right now. And I get it. You’re thinking, ‘How wrong could this girl be for Spencer Reid? She’s 13 years younger than him, and doesn’t have any fancy degrees.’ And you're right about all those differences. But you’re wrong about me being wrong for him. Yeah, I may only have a high school degree, but I’m smart enough to know what Spence needs, and It’s me, and I also know what I need, and It’s him. So think what you want about our age gap, but we love each other, and nothing you do, can stop that.”

The room seemed like a sauna, seeing as you were fuming, steaming with anger. You quickly pushed your chair back, and stormed out of the room, heading to your car. You knew you were being childish, and overdramatic, but you couldn't help yourself. You knew that you were just proving their point, but that didn’t change anything. You just sat there and sulked in the car, until you heard the door open.

Spencer came and sat down in the car, and you two just sat in silence, which he then broke when he said, “You know we have to talk about it eventually right?”

“Yeah, I know. Just sit with me here for a while.” You sighed out.

+++

When the two of you got home, you both got ready for bed, and then, had some serious pillow talk.

“I’m sorry for all of that at dinner, bub. I was just so angry and emotional. I guess that just proves their point.” You admitted to him.

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. They were the ones out of line. You were right.”

“Thanks, Spence.” You told him with a small smile.

“What happened after I left?” You inquired.

Having an Eidetic memory, he recited exactly what he said to the team after you had left:

“Are you guys kidding me? I finally bring my girlfriend to meet you guys and all you do is berate and integrate her? I love that girl. She understands me. She knows what I need, even when I don’t even know. And she does this without being a profiler. She’s just that amazing. Yes, we may have thirteen years between us, but that means nothing to me. Did you guys even notice how much happier I became 7 months ago? Did you even care enough to notice? You guys have to learn that you don’t know everything about me and my life.”

After he told you what he said, you were sort of shocked. Spencer was never the person to loudly lash out in anger. Granted, he wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions, but when angry, he tended to be more serious and quiet than loud.

He told you, “I just got so mad at them, bub. You are my life and my everything. I just wanted them to like you, but then they were being so rude to you, baby, I couldn’t handle it.”

“How did the team react? You curiously asked.

“They were pretty shocked, I’d say. It was out of character for me, I guess.” Spencer replied while running his fingers through your hair.

“Well thanks for defending me. I love you” You said as you slowly drift off to sleep.  

Spencer looks down at you sleeping and smiles to himself. He is reminded why he said all those things to his team and is reminded of just how amazing and happy you make him feel. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, before drifting off, himself.

+++

The next day you decided you were going to bring Spencer lunch, you knew that you would have to face the team, but you and Spencer desperately need the time together.

As you walked into the BAU headquarters, you felt a sense of dread upon you. But that all went away when a certain Penelope Garcia saw you. She rushed over to you, pulled you in a hug, and profusely apologized for everything that had happened last night.

“I am so sorry for last night. You seem like such a nice girl, and aghhhh I can't believe we said those things. I’m so sorry, again.” Penelope blurted out.

“Hey, It’s ok. It’s not like it was you were the one saying those things right?” You replied very wearily.

“Yeah… well, either way, I am so sorry!”

You then see Spencer at his desk and decide to head over there, but before you can, the rest of his team corners you, and bombards you with apologies.

“Hey, I'm really sorry about that.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that”

“You really make Reid happy, and that's all I really want”

Those were some of the many things that you heard. You weren’t sure what to do. You weren’t sure if you could forgive and forget. But then something in you clicked, and you knew what to do.

“You know, I was really upset, but you guys are Spence’s family, so I really want to get along. So why don’t we start over?” You said as the team looked at you, a bit confused.

“Hi! I’m Y/n. Dr. Spencer Reid’s girlfriend.”

+++

So, from that moment on, the team made it a priority to get to know you, for who you really were, not just from their predispositions about you.

It was going well. And everyone was happy.

[erenaeoth]

vastly underqualified to give and largely stolen from you anyway, here you go @claudioseraph​

63. What is one fear that you’d be ashamed of your friends knowing about?

Lars: That my greatest strengths are also what concerns me the most. I know I’m good in a fight and that I can convince people to follow my orders. Those are both qualities that are hallmarks of the Mishimas. I’m not afraid to say that I fear becoming like them, but admitting that to those close to you is different. My allies need me to be steadfast and hearing that I sometimes fear becoming like the people we’re fighting against is something I’d be ashamed to admit to them.

81. What is the weirdest thing that gets you angry?

Lars: Look, we all have our own eccentricities, and mine might be that I’m somewhat infamous for losing my temper a little too quickly. I don’t think any of those things are ‘weird’ but, alright, I know my squadrons keep lists of the things I’ve gone and got irrationally angry over. I’ll indulge you because I have a good sense of humour, which can be decisively counted in my favour and outweigh any of these things.

Things Captain Alexandersson has got angry over:

- his cape got stuck in an elevator

- when you watch him take his helmet off to see his hair do that thing

- if you say the belt buckle looks like a dog not a lion

- one time just because his phone rang. he was even expecting a call

- when he took us all to scandinavia after the coup, we would deliberately mispronounce swedish placenames because it made him so mad

- one time when because of this he mispronounced a placename himself

- when he picked up someone else’s order at a restaurant and ate their food he got mad at the person who’s food he ate

- he fell asleep in a chopper and had a dream and woke up mad because of it

- he gave us orders and then lost his memory, and then got mad at whoever made up these “terrible orders”

- when no one can pronounce “yggdrasil”

- if you start complaining about old Tekken Force bosses, he will join in and go on for hours and get madder and madder. its like your boss is mad at all the bosses you hated too

- if you ask LT Tougou for embarrassing stories about him and he is within earshot

- if he doesn’t eat dinner on time he gets mad and doesnt even realise

- if you look at his hair when it is wet

- when LT Tougou steals gherkins from his burgers. seems to be some kind of regular joke. always makes him mad

[whitetrashjj]

“I love Pope for the most part but he is a very flawed character- which I think needs to be acknowledged by a lot more by his fans. I go back and forth on him because of these things but it’s also very evident to see when people hate on Pope because of his genuine character flaws and the people who just have internalised racism.”

what flaws? you keep saying pope has flaws, pope stans see through his flaws, the things he’s done wrong… what flaws? can you please list them for us? i’m not even trying to be rude i’m genuinely confused

Okay so I know you’ve been eagerly waiting on the edge of your seat to hear my thoughts on this so I’ve finally got to it. But thank you so for your patience and realising that I don’t actually owe you a response.

Before we start let me state once again, as you’ll chose to ignore this. I don’t hate Pope, I loved him for the first half of the series, that’s the Pope that I like to think of, that’s the Pope that I write in my fics. Then he did some stuff that did not sit right with me, I haven’t completely written him off but I do think that how he’s written in s2 will have a big impact on my opinion.

I’m gonna try and take this in chronological order. So well start with 2x7. This isn’t a big one for me but just something about it didn’t feel right.

So we all know JJ stealing that money wasn’t a great choice. I really wish the rest of the pogues tried to actually understand is reasons rather than jump down his throat and assume he was just being impulsive JJ. So when JJ appealed to Pope about it, points out that JJ had just confessed to a felony, took a beating and now owes $30, 000 and possibly could face time served, and is basically just saying I did that for you can you just try and be on my side here. Pope just goes ‘I’m gonna pay you back. I didn’t ask you to do that’ which I just did not vibe with. It felt like saying ‘well you chose to do that so if I pay back the money I don’t owe you anything’. It completely ignores all the other massive effects it’s had on his life and as if Pope eventually being able to pay JJ back doesn’t eliminate the fact that he owes that money now.

No, it’s not gonna make me hate Pope forever but I just didn’t like that reaction.

So then we have ep 8 and Kie and Pope’s fight on the HMS Pogue. The ‘why is it always about John B?’ which is just ridiculous. Why is it about John B? Because he’s just stormed off in a rage with a gun to confront his father's murderer? Like he could be either getting murdered himself or doing some murdering and while I understand Pope is under a lot of pressure about his scholarship those two situations just aren’t comparable. He also then goes on to call her a shitty friend that only cares about John B and wouldn’t care about him or JJ if they were in that situation but then justifies that by bringing up a situation where she wasn’t there for John B. Which makes no sense? It essentially proves that she’s in a different place now than she was then, in which she wasn’t there for John B - a reason why she is so active in wanting to be there for him now - so the fact that she is now proves that her actions then don’t speak to who she is now post-kook year.

That bring us to what really annoyed me about that fight. Pope throwing Kie’s kook year back in her face simply cause he was jealous and mad that Kie wasn’t giving him the same attention she was giving JB. Like, at a really low point she confided in Pope how bad the Kook Academy was for her, told him that she was suicidal and that Sarah was her only beacon of hope only to drop her without question and turning her into the pariah of the school. And what does he do, uses it to antagise her because he’s not happy. I don’t love that Kie pushed him her but damn can you blame her? She told her friend something she had struggled with alone for so long and he just uses it against her like that. I don’t understand how you can be that cruel to someone you supposedly love. 

Ah, yes the love confession scene. Now even if we ignore how bad the timing was - and act like being high was a justifiable excuse. Let’s talk about the fact that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’ve seen Kie get so much hate for how harsh she was but she tried to let him down easy but he just kept pushing and pushing. Insisting that her reasons weren’t good enough as if she needed a reason other than she just doesn’t see him that way.

Now, of course Pope is allowed to be upset by this, but there is a difference between being upset and the friendzone incel nice guys finish last bullshit that Pope pulled. The acting rude and cold and distant towards her like she wronged him. He was angry at her for not feeling the same way and acted like it was her fault and her problem. The revving of the bike scene will never not make my blood boil, she’s trying to approach him as a friend, talk to him and work things out. He could of told her that he needs some time, that he was upset and hurt but no he shows a complete lack of respect for her and literally silences her. It makes me think about that post that goes ‘men like to talk about how much it sucks to be friendzoned. But what about the hurt of thinking you had a friend only to find out they were only nice to you cause they wanted to fuck you.’ It’s understandable he would be upset but he dealt with that situation so poorly - almost in the way that a flawed character would. 

And then to end it all - now this isn’t Pope’s fault I know - our straight white men in the writers room reward him for treating Kie like that with getting the girl. I don’t know a single girl that would change her mind because of that. It was gross and I hated every second of it. 

I don’t hate Pope, but those we’re shitty things. And yes even if he had his reasons, even if he got mad and acted irrationally, they are still shitty things and that’s okay. He’s a flawed character who acted wrong in a situation, because he’s not perfect - and admitting that doesn’t mean you can’t still love him with your whole heart. 

[paperbodiesamongthestars]

Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions

Hello, I am a day late with my mythological creatures AU, oh noooooo. Also, I had this filed in my brain as a love potion story and it took me way longer than it should have to realize that there isn’t actually a love potion in it. 

Read it on AO3!

Steve handed him his movies and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he closed it again.

"Spit it out, Bambi," Billy said. Steve stared at him for a minute, glancing around to make sure Billy was the only customer at Family Video.

"I just wanted you to know that it's not your fault," he finally said tentatively. Billy thought about all the things Steve could be referring to and decided he needed more specifics.

"What are you talking about?"

"The...thing. The attraction thing." Steve gestured between them. "It's not your fault." Steve sighed as Billy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not trying to make this weird. I just...I've seen how you look at me sometimes, and I wanted you to know that it's not you. It's me." Billy decided to ignore the fear in the pit of his stomach at the idea that Steve had apparently caught him looking. Neil was gone, he reminded himself. Sure, his first impulse was to shove Steve against a wall until he promised never to say shit like that again, but he suppressed it. He wanted to know what the fuck Steve was talking about.  

"Still not following, princess."

"I was cursed. By a witch. So people are, you know, attracted to me." Billy stared at him.

"And that's a curse because..." he prompted.

"Oh, the curse is that everyone is attracted to me, but no one can truly love me until the curse is broken." Steve seemed remarkably cavalier about it. Billy just stared at him again.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, still lost. This was not a conversation he had been expecting to have--ever, really--so it was taking him a minute to catch up.  Steve sighed again.

"I was kind of a shallow dick at the beginning of high school. Someone in our graduating class didn't like it, so she cursed me to experience the shallowest possible expression of love until someone comes along who feels strongly enough about me to break the curse."

"What does that even mean? And how will you know that the curse is broken?"

"Great questions," Steve said. "Unfortunately, the witch in question is still a little vague on the details." He raised his voice throughout the sentence until he was practically yelling the last part. Robin came of the back room and Steve played up glaring at her.

"Wait, Robin is the one who cursed you?" Billy asked. That seemed harsh, even for Robin, who could be absolutely savage sometimes. Also, she was Steve's best friend. Robin grimaced and threw up her hands, already defensive.

"Ugh, we're talking about this? Again? First of all, part of Steve's whole attraction deal is definitely the Fae thing, so you can't put all of that on me. Furthermore, I was sixteen and the girl I liked wouldn't stop looking at him, and we weren't friends yet, and I thought he was just a stupid dickhead jock!" Her gaze went to Steve and her tone was a little gentler, though still exasperated. "How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry?" Steve just shrugged. Billy looked from Robin to Steve and back.

"Okay, first of all, I have never heard about any of this so, yeah, we are definitely talking about it," Billy said. "And secondly, you made it so that Harrington can't experience love, Buckley. That's a lot of apologizing."

"Oh, that is rich coming from the dude who almost beat Steve to death approximately five minutes after arriving in Hawkins," Robin shot back. It wasn't exactly an unfair point, but Billy wasn't going to say that. He stared her down instead.

"Billy already apologized for that. And it was a long time ago," Steve said generously. Steve also generously did not mention that Billy had gotten so choked up he could barely finish the apology, and that he had spent the entire second semester of that year helping Steve with his homework without Steve asking him to. Billy also still sometimes shoveled the walk in front of Steve's apartment in the winter, and he showed up periodically to do maintenance on Steve's car. He was reminded of his guilt every time he saw the scar at Steve's hairline, was all. He definitely wasn't just looking for excuses to spend time with, or in the general vicinity of, Steve. Also, none of that was the point right now because it turned out that Robin had also fucked Steve over. And furthermore, what the fuck was the Fae thing?

"He can't. Experience. Love," Billy repeated. Jesus, Steve deserved better friends. "And also, what the fuck is the Fae thing?"  

"Steve's mom is Fae," Robin said. "And you're always so fucking dramatic. He can experience love," she insisted, but she sounded a little uncertain. "He falls in love all the fucking time."

"Yeah, but no one's ever going to love me back until the curse is over," Steve sighed. He leaned on the counter, looking a little forlorn.

"Every curse can be broken," Robin said stubbornly. "I just wasn't very detailed about the wording of this one."

"And that's important because..." Billy prompted. He let the Fae thing slide for now. That revelation felt like it warranted an entirely separate conversation. Robin sighed.

"Like I said, every curse can be broken. Typically, an experienced witch will build the conditions for breaking the curse into the spell itself. Said witch will be as specific as possible, to ensure that the conditions are actually met before the curse is broken. If, hypothetically speaking, you have an inexperienced witch who used the wording from a spell template she found on the internet, you get stuck with something vague like 'the curse will be broken when the power of love outweighs the power of the curse.'"

"Ok, so someone just has to love Steve more than you were mad at him when you cursed him. And, one more time, how will you know when the curse is broken?" Robin winced a little.

"There's usually some kind of indication?" It was much more a question than it was a statement.

"I take it that's another thing that is usually covered in the initial spell."

"Yep," Robin said, staring intently at the floor. There was a long silence, and she finally looked up at Steve. "If it helps, I think that curse is probably the reason my love life is a complete disaster. Witchcraft does not reward shitty intentions, even if you're cursing a stupid jock with dumb hair who, at one time, almost definitely deserved it." Steve stared at her, visibly suppressing a smile. 

"That's a really touching apology, Robin."

"Shut up, dingus." She nudged him with her elbow and he nudged her back. Now they were both suppressing little grins.

"I can't believe you're both just fine with this," Billy said, staring at them. He knew he was irrationally angry, but he had a nagging feeling that he had been personally wronged by this entire situation. He chose not to think too hard about why that was. Robin narrowed her eyes at him.

"I tried to lift the curse a bunch of times," she said. "I can't do it. Probably because it was such a shitty spell to start with." She sighed. "At this point I'm worried that if I keep trying, I'll just make it worse." Steve shrugged.

"It's okay. It's not like it changed my life all that much in the first place." Billy's eyes narrowed at the hint of bitterness in Steve's tone. "Besides, it's not like I can do much about it now. Except wait and see if someone ever falls in love with me hard enough to break it." Steve's tone had turned wistful, and he had a faraway look in his eyes.

"Someone will," Robin said quietly. She bumped her shoulder against Steve's and smiled at him. "I know they will, dingus." Steve appeared to come back to himself a little bit. He stood straighter at the counter.

"Anyway," he said to Billy, "I just wanted you to know that it's not you, it's me. And it will fade with time. It always does." He gave Billy a reassuring smile, seemingly unaware of how fucking sad that sounded. Billy stared at him for a long moment, thinking hard. Then he smiled back, a little wolfish.

"Thanks, Harrington. That is good to know." He gave the two of them a little salute and then took his movies and walked out of Family Video.

Billy got in his car, but he didn't start it immediately. Instead he sat there, staring into space. Steve was wrong, obviously; that wasn't even a question. If the only thing Billy felt for Steve Harrington was attraction, his life would be significantly easier. He knew what to do about that. Hell, he probably would have already done it, and he thought Steve probably would have been into it; Billy hadn't been the only one looking for a while now. The problem was that he wanted to hold Steve's hand and gaze into his stupid doe eyes almost as much as he wanted to lick him all over, and Billy didn't have the first fucking clue what to do about that.

It was three weeks later when Robin cornered Billy at the auto shop. His behavior toward Steve hadn’t changed, and sometimes he thought he saw a hint of wistfulness in Steve’s expression when Billy flirted with him. Like maybe he was a little hopeful. Mostly, though, he seemed resigned. A little sad. Robin watched their interactions with sharp, knowing eyes, and Billy wasn’t exactly surprised to find her waiting for him after a long shift on a windy, overcast Wednesday.

Robin’s eyes stayed on him as he approached, and then she glanced down at his pendant.

“You never take that off?” she asked. He was caught a little off guard. He hadn’t expected her to open with that. Or to ask about it at all.

“No," he said, suspicious. "My mom told me to always leave it on,” he added, not sure why he was volunteering information except that Robin occasionally reminded him a little bit of his mom. Something in her affect, maybe. Robin nodded, like his mom's insistence on it made sense to her for some reason. She pushed off the side of his car and waited for him to unlock it.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“Go where?” he asked warily.

“My parents' house.”

“Why would I do that?” They weren’t exactly friends, despite all the time Billy spent at Family Video. Robin’s grin was sharp.

“Because I have a theory,” she said.

“Still not hearing anything about why I would want to do this.” Her grin widened.

“Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not?” she asked. Billy stared at her for just a second too long without responding, and her eyes sparkled, and then it was too late to do anything but get in the car and let her in the passenger side.

“Steve is cursed, remember?” His tone was acidic as he tried to regain the upper hand.

“He is,” she agreed, “but that might be less of a problem than we thought.” He glanced over at her and then back at the road. It came to him all at once, and suddenly he felt a lot less off-balance.

“You think I'm going to fix this for you,” he said quietly. Robin’s smile vanished and there was a long silence.

“Maybe. Kind of,” she admitted. “But not in the way that you’re thinking.” He glanced over again and cocked an eyebrow.

“Spit it out, Buckley,” he prompted when she didn’t elaborate. She shook her head.

“I’d rather show you when we get there,” she said. “You’ll never believe me otherwise.” He frowned at her, but didn’t argue. He could indulge her for a little while.

When they pulled up in front of her parents' house, Robin didn’t get out of the car right away. She stared up at the gabled  roof of the house instead.

“I don’t take it lightly, you know,” she finally said. She was still staring out the window. She didn’t look at Billy. “I was young and stupid and scared and it wasn’t Steve’s fault I felt that way, but it felt like it was. I did something terrible and I haven’t been able to fix it and it kills me how nice he is about it.” She turned to look at Billy and her eyes were dry, but he could see the emotion there. "I imagine you can relate," she said drily. Then she narrowed her eyes at him, calculating. “I really expected you to be a dick about it. I thought you’d find it so funny that King Steve was totally fucked when it came to love, but you didn’t look amused at all.” Robin’s eyes were intent on Billy. “You looked surprised and then angry, which was interesting. So I started paying more attention to you.” Billy stared at her, torn between anger and fear. Someone paying close attention to his life had not, historically, ended well for him. She must have seen it on his face. “Easy, big guy,” she said. “I’m not threatening you. In fact, I think I can help you.” Yeah. He’d heard that before. But Robin thought he could help Steve, maybe, and that was worth something. He sighed.

“So this theory.” Her smile was bright.

“Follow me.”

They ended up in an attic room at the very top of the house. The floor was bare wood with intricate designs painted on it. Billy thought they were chalk at first, but they didn’t smudge when Robin walked over them. Billy felt a tingle at the back of his neck when Robin closed the door, and then his ears popped. He looked sharply at Robin, who nodded to herself.

“Ok, so I need you to take off your necklace.”

“We literally just covered this; I don't take it off.” She was nodding.

"I know. But we're in a magically sealed room with very solid wards, so whatever your mom was protecting you from can't get to you here." She leaned closer, eyes on his pendant. She held a hand over it, not quite touching, but close enough to make him a little wary. "No, not protecting," she murmured, largely to herself. Her eyes went a little wide and came up to Billy's. "This isn't a protection spell. It's a concealment spell. A major one." Billy felt an echo of something familiar in her words, and it was deeply unsettling. He tried to keep the waver out of his voice when he spoke.

"What are you talking about, Buckley?" She straightened up and sighed.

"Again, it would be easier to show you." He just stared at her, stubborn. She rolled her eyes.

"Ok, fine. Your pendant is absolutely saturated with power. Fortunately for you, the only people you hang out with who are likely to notice are me, because witch, and Steve, because Fae senses. When you said you never took it off, I assumed it was a protection spell, but, well, you used to walk around with an awful lot of injuries for someone wearing a protective charm. That hasn't been true for a while, though." And there it was--the reason close scrutiny was never very good for Billy. Because he had a lot of secrets, and he still didn't like people knowing about them. His face must have betrayed him again because Robin's voice was gentle when she continued.

"Again, I'm not going to harm you. I can swear to it, if it would make you feel better."

"That's not super reassuring coming from someone who inadvertently permanently cursed her best friend," Billy muttered. Robin stared at him for a beat and then nodded.

"I'm going to let that one go because you're so obviously uncomfortable. But maybe be a little nicer to the person who is currently trying to help you."

"Don't need help," Billy said stubbornly. Robin just grinned at him.

"I think you just might. Now off." She gestured at the necklace. "Come on, you can put it right back on, and I promise this is a secure room. It's magically sealed up nice and tight." Billy stared at her for a long moment and then decided to humor her. He wasn't sure why. He lifted the necklace over his head and dropped it into the small silver bowl she held out to him.

"Cleansed and warded," she said, as though he had any idea what that meant. But she handled the bowl with respect as she set it gently on a table behind her. Then she turned and stared expectantly at Billy.

He felt the same as he always did, although he was just now noticing that the room was warmer than it had been before. He glanced at Robin and followed her wide-eyed gaze to his hands. His own eyes went wide as he stared down at them. His fingertips were glowing gold. The sight should have been shocking, but instead it was...familiar. It tugged at something in his mind--

And then he wasn't aware of much at all as a flood of memories swept over him. Sights, sounds, smells, the feel of power in his fingertips. His mother, talking him through the process as she prepared salves and potions and tinctures. The smell of fresh herbs and the mustiness of her drying room. Watching as she worked on his necklace every night for months. Her big eyes, sad on his as she explained. It's not safe, baby. I'm so sorry you have to hide, but I can't be there to protect you. It's not forever, I promise. My sisters will find you and they'll help you. The memories just kept coming. He was drowning in sensation and he couldn't get his bearings...

"--lly. Billy! Are you ok?" Robin's voice finally penetrated the haze of memories. Billy shook his head, trying to clear away the lingering headache caused by the flood. He gradually became aware that he was kneeling on the wooden floor of the room, hunched over, hands on the sides of his head. Tentatively, he lowered his hands and looked up. "Fuck," Robin breathed out. "You scared the shit out of me." She slumped down next to him. His fingertips were still glowing, but at least now he knew why. They sat in silence for a while. Billy eventually shifted until he was sitting cross-legged and closed his eyes, just breathing. The chaos in his head was settling, the memories slotting into place among the ones he already had. He took his time, wrapping his head around the way his entire world had just shifted on its axis. Robin seemed content to breathe next to him for as long as it took. It was a small kindness, but Billy wasn't used to kindness at all.

"So you thought I was a witch," Billy finally said slowly.

"Suspected," Robin corrected. "And I was right." She clearly had any number of questions, but didn't ask any of them. She just looked at him, eyes careful on his face.

"My mom was a witch," he said, trying out the words. They felt comfortable on his tongue. "I'm a witch," he tried next. It felt good. Right. He felt whole for the first time in a long time.

"I picked that one up from context, actually," Robin teased. He glared at her, but she just smiled.

"The necklace hid my power." He sighed. "She was trying to keep me safe." Robin was nodding. She carefully did not ask from what, and Billy appreciated that kindness too.

"Your mom must have been really good," Robin said. "That's major magic." Billy nodded a little. Now that he remembered his training, he knew just how much had gone into the spell. No wonder Robin had noticed it.

Billy flinched at a sudden knock at the door, and Robin's head snapped around.

"Robin? Honey? What exactly are you doing in my workroom?" Robin grimaced. She looked at the necklace on the table. Billy stood and reached for it, but she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"What if you lose your memories again?" she asked. Billy hesitated. The knocking came again and Robin seemed to make a decision. She tightened her hand around Billy's wrist. "My mom is...a lot, ok, but she's also very good. She might be able to help." Billy considered it. He wasn't ready to lose all those memories again. He let the pendant slide back into the bowl, hoping he was making the right choice.

Robin crossed the room and opened the door. Her mother stepped in, and Billy felt her presence immediately. It was clear why Robin had described her as 'a lot.' She wasn't particularly tall, but the room felt smaller as soon as she entered it. Her eyes swept over the two of them, just as sharp as her daughter's. Billy kept his back straight as she studied him. She closed the door behind her, and Billy felt that tingle at the back of his neck again. This time, though, he knew it was the wards kicking in, and he remembered the sensation from his mother's workroom at home. Robin's mom turned her attention to Robin, and Billy saw her swallow once. He tensed a little, but Mrs. Buckley just shook her head, a little fondly.

"Why exactly you thought I wasn't going to notice power of this magnitude in my own workroom escapes me," she said drily.

"I didn't know what was going to happen," Robin said. Her mother sighed, exasperated.

"That's not really better, love," she said, but there was affection in it. She turned her attention to Billy, eyeing him speculatively as she moved closer and held out a hand.

"Elle Buckley. Robin's mother and local High Priestess."

"Billy Hargrove," Billy said. He wasn't sure how to explain the rest. Fortunately, Robin's mom didn't seem to need much of an explanation. She crossed to the table and passed a hand over the bowl holding his necklace, though she didn't touch it. One of her eyebrows went up and she looked back at Billy.

"That must have been a confusing few minutes," she said. "You won't lose your memories if you put it back on. It will conceal your power from others, but not from you anymore."

"You're sure?" Billy asked.

"I am," she said with confidence. "It was elegant spellwork." She stared at him for a long moment. "Your mother, I assume?" Billy nodded. "She trained you?" He nodded again. Mrs. Buckley nodded to herself and turned back to Robin.

"That was reckless," she said. "What exactly were you thinking?" Robin flushed under her mother's scrutiny.

"He should know what he is," Robin said. Her mother just cocked an eyebrow and held her gaze, waiting. Robin sighed. "And I thought maybe he could help with Steve's curse," she admitted, mainly to the floor. Mrs. Buckley's expression went a little hard around the edges.

"We've been over this, Robin. The Harrington boy can get help from his family if he needs it." Billy looked at Robin, who was still looking at the floor. The Harrington boy? Not Steve, not your best friend. There was a story there. "Besides, Billy needs our help at the moment," she continued. She turned back to Billy.

"You've missed a lot of time as an apprentice," she said. "How old were you when your mother gave you the pendant?"

"Thirteen," Billy said. He wouldn't forget that age anytime soon; it had been a bad year. Mrs. Buckley nodded.

"We'll have to get you set up with someone in town," she mused.

"Not right away, though," Robin interjected. Her mother looked at her, surprised. "He literally just found out. He can take a little while to get used to it, Mom. He's got the basics, right?" Robin glanced at him and he nodded. His mom had taught him enough to keep himself and others safe. Robin's mom looked between them for a long moment, and then sighed.

"All right. Come see me when you're ready to get started. And keep that pendant on, for now, if you're not in a sealed workroom," she said to Billy. He nodded again. He had planned to do that anyway. Mrs. Buckley looked at Robin. "Next time, maybe give me a heads-up before you want to use my workroom? I can only help if I'm actually present when something happens." Robin also nodded, and Mrs. Buckley swept out of the room, pointedly waiting to open the door until Billy had his necklace on. He felt better with it back in place.

Robin led Billy out of the workroom and back through the house, and then followed him out to his car. She stood at the passenger door expectantly. He sighed and unlocked it. They sat there in silence while he lit a cigarette. She shook her head when he offered her the pack.

"What are we doing?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"I have two pieces of good news for you," she said. He gestured at her to continue. "You're a witch," she started.

"Wait, what?" he said, acting surprised. The smile vanished off of her face for just a second until she realized he was kidding. She shoved at his arm.

"You dick. I thought you had lost your memories again." She glared at him while he laughed. "What I was trying to say was that there are a couple of implications of your new status that you might find interesting."

"Oh?" he asked, drawing out the word, tone as obnoxious as possible.

"First of all," she said, smile going a little sharp, "curses don't work on other witches. So whatever you feel for Steve is all you, friend." She smirked when Billy looked over at her, and then she kept talking. "That was why I wanted to test my theory so badly." Billy thought about it.

"You know this doesn't actually fix anything, right? He's still cursed."

"Sure," Robin said, "but we found a nice little loophole, and now we can just exploit the shit out of it."

"So what, Steve just has to spend the rest of his life cursed? Come on, Buckley." Robin looked at him and then smiled.

"Hey, maybe the curse will be broken as soon as you kiss him. I suggest you try it. But please do me a huge favor and tell Steve the news when I'm there? I really want to see his face."

"Yeah, no, I'm definitely not doing that." Robin stared at him, amused.

"You don't seem quite as happy as I thought you'd be," she said, and then her eyes widened. "You don't know how to tell him that you like him," she breathed.

"What? I don't...I mean, I do..." She let him flounder, smile growing wider by the second. He finally trailed off.

"Good luck with all of that," she said, gesturing in his general direction. "The good news is that you're a witch and Steve is half-Fae, so you've got a long-ass time to get your shit together. I have a feeling you're going to need it." She opened the car door and got out.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, and then he felt bad. She had, after all, given him back a part of himself that he hadn't even known was missing. "Thanks," he said again, more sincerely this time. She held his gaze and nodded, giving him a small, genuine smile. Then she closed the car door and turned to head back into her house.

Billy sat there for a while, Robin's words from before ringing in his ears. Do you want a shot at Steve Harrington or not?  He did, obviously, and now he had one. What he still didn't have was any fucking idea what to do about it.

[19tozier]

wish you were sober pt. two (richie tozier)

part two of this imagine

warnings: swearing, angst w/ a happy ending

[losers + reader are 16+]

as much as you wish it didn’t, that night after the party changes everything.

you don’t really know what to do with yourself. your heart aches to believe what richie said, but the larger part of you knows he was just drunk. he’s been your best friend for years, there’s no way that he actually likes you, let alone loves you. you just need to forget about it.

you don’t really know what to do about it, though. the logical part of you says it would probably be best to avoid richie for a while, at least until your feelings settle down again, but you’re not strong enough to do that. you’ve never gone longer than the weekend without seeing him; you don’t think you’d survive not having him within arm’s length.

but still, your blood burns whenever he’s close, so almost without you realizing it, you put distance between the two of you. not much, not enough to ruin your friendship, but enough to be noticeable. always at least one loser between you at all times, never being alone with him, talking to him really only when there are other people around. you know he has to have noticed and you feel guilty as hell to hurt him like this, but you’re slowly dying and he has no fucking clue.

you do, however, notice when sandy stops eating lunch with all of you. you notice when his jean jacket stretches over his own shoulders again. and you notice how no new girl shows up under his arm. you notice it all, and it makes you think.

hope is a dangerous thing. it can kill you if you’re not careful.

you think you’re doing a pretty good job of it, all things considered; you still laugh at richie’s jokes, you still banter with him over mundane topics, you still team up with him to rag on any of the other losers. you’ve always believed yourself to be a bad friend because of your feelings, betraying his trust and his privacy by being so in love with him. you’re certain you’re obvious because sometimes you feel like your love for him is bursting out of your skin, but you’ve never admitted it in as many words. you’ve never told anyone about your feelings for him, not even bev or stan. it is a secret you intend to take to your grave.

you only realize you’re wrong when the tension between you and richie explodes.

it starts at lunch one day. you’re all sat around your usual table, being as rowdy and out-of-control as all of you typically are. you’re sitting in between bill and bev, laughing at the story eddie tells, consciously keeping your eyes away from richie. any time you look at him, you can’t pull your eyes away because of how beautiful he is.

still, you’re only so strong, and when eddie gets distracted by bill asking him a question, your eyes flick to richie’s face. you jump when you find him already looking back at you.

he raises an eyebrow at you, a cheeky grin spread across his mouth. he’s got his hair pulled back in a bun today, a few unruly curls spilling out against his cheekbones in a way that’s unfairly attractive. you’re stricken by it, especially when he drops his eyelid in a wink. it’s so hot, you want to climb him like a tree and kiss him—

you jerk, ripping your gaze away from him. you desperately refocus on eddie, ignoring the way bev nudges you. your cheeks are flaming, something hot traveling through your chest and down your arms. you can feel richie’s gaze still on you, prickling and too perceptive. you feel flayed out under it, like he will be able to read your love for him in every line of your face.

you very carefully do not look at richie for the rest of lunch.

you almost think you’ve gotten away with it. richie doesn’t try to catch your attention again, and when the bell rings you book it out of the cafeteria before he can try and talk to you. you don’t share any classes together after lunch, and you think you can probably avoid him after school too if you pretend to talk to one of your teachers. you’re fine. it’s fine. you can do this.

you’re still thinking about it when you take your customary trip to the bathroom, the way you always do sometime during fifth period. it’s less actually having to go to the bathroom and more needing to get out of class, still jittery from lunch but starting to crash and burn out from the school day.

you’re swinging the hall pass around your finger, humming to yourself as you take the long way around, when you pass by the janitor’s closet and feel a hand wrap around your wrist to yank you in.

you squeak in surprise, your heart in your throat, before anger takes over and you whirl on who grabbed you. you can’t see in the dark of the closet but that doesn’t matter. “what the hell? not funny, asshole, who do you think you—”

the chain for the light is pulled. your words die in your throat when you find yourself looking up into richie’s face, his jaw tensed and his eyes dark.

“who do i think i am?” richie prompts when you don’t finish, glaring down at you. his arms are crossed over his chest. “well let’s see, who am i? maybe your best fucking friend who you’ve been avoiding? yeah, that sounds about right, doesn’t it?”

you gape at him, your brain still struggling to make sense of what’s going on. your voice is weak when you mumble, “i‘m not avoiding you.”

“bull-fucking-shit,” he sneers. “you’ve been avoiding me for like, two weeks now. the only reason we’re talking right now is because i pulled you in here, because if i’d have asked to talk you would’ve just blown me off.”

he’s not wrong; you probably would have. still, you blink at him, your eyebrows furrowing. “how did you know i’d be walking by?”

he glares at you, like he’s furious that’s what you’re focusing on instead of what he’s saying. “you always go to the bathroom during fifth period. you had to walk by eventually.”

slowly, the confusion fogging your brain is clearing, giving you the space you need to throw up your defenses. deflect, you tell yourself. “so what, you decided the best course of action was to skip class and wait for me in a janitor’s closet? you couldn’t have thought of literally anything else?”

“i tried!” he growls, his voice rising in volume. “i tried to talk to you about it last week and you just made some excuse and fucking left! you won’t even look at me, toots, so what the fuck else was i supposed to do?”

“not wait in a dingy ass closet?” you bite back, rising up to your full height. it’s not much, not compared to his, but it makes you feel more powerful anyways. “do you ever listen to eddie when he talks about germs?”

richie ignores you, taking a step closer to you. you mirror that step backwards. “you’ve been avoiding me since that party,” he says like you haven’t even spoken, “so something had to have happened then but i don’t remember anything about—”

anger erupts inside your chest, spilling white-hot through your veins and making your hands tremble at your sides. “that’s the fucking problem, richie,” you interrupt him, your voice cold. “you were wasted and you don’t remember anything.”

he blinks at you, his shoulders tensing slightly. “so something did happen then. what the hell was it?”

all at once you are so sick of this conversation. you wish you could go back in time and not go to the bathroom today. you wish you could go back and not have gone to that party. you wish you could go back and never have met richie. you don’t really mean that, you know you don’t, but in this moment you are so hurt and so tired that you do. you feel tears prick at your eyes.

“nothing,” you say, working to keep your voice cold and not let your exhaustion creep into it. “i’m going back to class.”

you reach for the door handle, intent on getting as far from here as you can, but richie presses his hand to the door to keep you from leaving. you glare at him, tugging fruitlessly at the handle, irrationally furious over the strength of his fucking noodle arms.

“nuh uh, we’re not done talking yet,” he snaps, his eyes sparking hotly. “what happened at the party?”

“nothing happened at the party,” you nearly snarl. it’s true, after all; nothing had happened at the party. it was only when you took him home that he had said what he did.

richie growls, stepping closer again. you take another step backwards, your back hitting the door. he’s so close now you can see the circle of brown in his left eye. “stop fucking lying, (y/n). tell me what fucking happened.”

the heat rising from his skin sets you on fire, the scent of his cologne making your head foggy and adding to the blaze of your anger. it rises and rises inside of you, quickening the pace of your heart and making your stomach clench, before finally, with the suddenness of a rubber band snapping, you can’t hold it in anymore.

“fine! you wanna know what fucking happened?” you hiss, jabbing a finger into his sternum. “i drove your sorry ass home and got you into bed and you fucking told me you wished i was your girlfriend instead of sandy.”

his brow furrows, his nose scrunching slightly as he stares down at you. “that’s it?” he asks. you nearly start screaming before he continues, “you’re mad at me because i told you the truth?”

abruptly, you’re even more angry. richie’s never been a cruel or even a mean person, but this feels like he is willingly tearing you apart. sure, he could be an asshole, but you’d never thought he would make jokes like this at your expense, nor that he wouldn’t know where to draw the line. part of you wants to punch him and part of you wants to cry.

you settle for scowling at him. “stop fucking teasing me, richie, it’s not funny.”

he rolls his eyes at you, frowning. “who said i was joking? (y/n), you’re fucking oblivious if you think i haven’t been in love with you since before we even fucking met. sure, probably shouldn’t have admitted that while i was drunk, but guess i just needed some liquid encouragement.”

his words draw you up short. he looks so sincere but you’re hesitant to believe him, certain it’s a joke. things like this don’t work out for you. you don’t get to have the cliche fairytale moments. you’re certain he’s going to laugh and yell how he’d gotten off a good one, but as the seconds tick by he just watches your face, not even trying to fill the silence that is steadily growing thicker. his expression doesn’t shift from the vulnerable earnestness it had settled into.

finally, you manage to shakily murmur, “but what about all of those girls?”

he sighs, carding a rough hand through his curls. “just a distraction. they were fun and all, but they weren’t you, doll. you’re my best girl. no one could ever compare to you.”

“and you’re not—” your voice cracks. you stop, clear your throat. try again. “you’re not joking?”

the smile that spreads across his mouth is soft, sweet, a little bit shy. the way you are suddenly realizing he has never looked with anyone other than you. “no, sugar,” he murmurs. “i am absolutely, 100% not joking.”

your breath stutters out of you, your shoulders slumping against the door. you have emotional whiplash from the past several minutes, abruptly exhausted over what is one of the most insane experiences you have ever had. and you’d bashed in the skull of a murderous demon clown at thirteen. part of you doesn’t think this is real, but if it’s not, may as well take advantage of the dream.

“hey rich?” you whisper, reaching out to touch his ribs. he shudders.

“yeah, doll?” he murmurs roughly.

you smile up at him, brushing your thumbs along his waist. “kiss me?”

he smiles back, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear. “don’t mind if i do.”

he kisses the laughter right out of your mouth, getting close enough to press you back against the door with the bulk of his body. his hands slide around your hips, his teeth catching around your lower lip, and he whines when you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair. his mouth tastes like the mint gum he likes to chew and the smell of him is dizzying up close, you think you might drown in it—

the sound of the bell breaks you apart, both of your chests heaving and your lips swollen. you stare up at him for a moment before you both burst into giggles.

“fuck, i love you,” he beams, kissing you again.

you grin back, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “i love you too, tozier.”

his expression goes so soft it hurts to look at, but you can’t look away. he shakes his head, still smiling. “do you wanna ditch the rest of the day and go get milkshakes with me, baby?”

you nod, slipping your hand into his when he offers it to you. “i would like nothing more, rich.”

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Star Trek: The Characters

Storytelling, especially where it regards movies and television, is always evolving.  

Whether it’s in deeper themes, better effects, different genres, or evolving archetypes, there is always something that is changing, except, perhaps, where the importance of characters are concerned.

Characters are an integral part of storytelling, particularly where it concerns television.  When it comes to television, the setup is everything, and the characters are part of that setup, that ‘home base’ that the audience returns to at the start of every episode.  The characters are the people that the audience gets to know, who star in each adventure.  Characters are what holds the audience’s investment, the reason fanbases tolerate bad episodes and praise good ones.  In the end, the main characters keep an audience’s attention, making each episode, even the bad ones, enjoyable.

In short, characters can make or break a television show.  It is vital that they be likable, or at the very least, interesting, lest the audience utter those eight deadly words:

I Don’t Care What Happens To These People.  

Once those words are uttered, it doesn’t matter how gripping your narratives are.  The viewers will start to leave.

See, while a film can get away with some lesser characters by distracting with an interesting concept, set-piece or a fast-paced story, television can’t.  Thanks to a smaller runtime and a smaller budget, television, by necessity, tends to be character based.  As a result, the main cast of a television show has to be able to work in multiple stories of different kinds.

This means that writing for characters on television can be pretty difficult.

The best television characters tend to merge two ideas together: That of relatability and entertainment value.  

You see, television, like all stories, tells stories of exaggerated versions of reality, especially in the cases of science-fiction adventure shows like Star Trek.  The only way to make an audience buy an unbelievable world is to create believable characters to place in that world, that relatability in the stories and characters.  When we see McCoy’s frustration, or Kirk’s boldness, or Spock’s reservedness, we see elements of ourselves, our own personalities and lives.  It is vital to make characters seem real, if not realistic.

The question is, does Star Trek manage to do that?

That’s the question we’re going to be answering today.  Let’s take a look, starting with the Captain of the Enterprise Crew: James Tiberius Kirk.

Kirk truly was The Captain in every sense of the word.  A Reasonable Authority Figure who did far more adventuring than realistic counterparts would have, Kirk was an Action Man, level-headed, dutiful, and always loyal to his ship and his crew.  A Bold Explorer (it’s in the job description), Kirk, while not fearless per say, took the Chains of Commanding quite seriously, and would often face down hugely powerful beings, power-mad computers, or other forces beyond him in order to save his crew.  A Determinator to the last, known for his interesting ways to think outside the box and refusal to accept a ‘no win scenario’, he is the unquestionable Hero of the show, the Leader, who often throws the rules aside to do what he feels is right, in a constant battle To Be Lawful or Good.  He was a Charmer, an expert fast-talker, and very smart.  In later installations of the franchise, Kirk would become a Living Legend, much as he became in our own pop culture.

All that being said, the common cultural image of Captain Kirk isn’t quite right.  Allow me to adjust it, as best I can.

More than any other character in Star Trek, or perhaps the history of television in general, Captain Kirk is possibly the most misrepresented character of all time.  Since the ‘60s, Kirk has evolved into an icon of heroism, machismo, and brash boldness, with even the recent Star Trek reboot depicting, not Kirk, but rather, the distorted, separate idea of Kirk in the modern light.

This idea, quite frankly, is just not right.  While Kirk did have his share of romances, he was no womanizer, often entering into dubiously consented-to relationships reluctantly, in order to save the ship.  The relationships he did actively pursue, he threw himself into wholeheartedly, and he was just as crushed as the other party every time they fell apart (for proof, watch City on the Edge of Forever or The Paradise Syndrome).  Kirk was no player.  As a matter of fact, he was a deeply compassionate man who respected the women in his life as much as he respected Spock and McCoy.  It just so happened that the women in his life tended to not stick around, unlike his one true love: The Enterprise.

Even his reputation of the ‘Cowboy Captain’ isn’t accurate.  As I mentioned before, Kirk was defined by compassion.  His moments of ‘rule-breaking’ wasn’t to impose ‘the way he thinks things should be’, it’s because Kirk cannot bear to watch helpless people in trouble.  The few times where he does break the famous ‘Prime Directive’ (To not interfere with less developed races) is to help.  Kirk was a deeply moral character, determined to not stand by while people were taken advantage of.  He wasn’t rash, either.  While it may be accurate to say that the ship’s doctor, Leonard McCoy, was a bit on the hot-headed side, it is entirely inaccurate to accuse Kirk of the same.  Kirk was an extremely smart man, a level-headed captain who was an expert at thinking fast.  He trusted his instincts, but he trusted his advisors too, often finding a balance between McCoy’s impulsiveness and Spock’s cold rationality.  Kirk’s intelligence and competence is often lost, overshadowed by his more extreme companions, and some audiences have forgotten the truth of Kirk’s character: a cunning problem-solver capable of saving the day under enormous pressure, whose decisions are far from based in irrationality.  He is a romantic, duty-bound to protect his ship and crew, greatly exaggerated and mis-characterized in the years following his captaincy.

As such, Kirk was a well-rounded, balanced character, far more three-dimensional than the modern idea of him tends to give him credit for.

That’s all well and good, sure, but how does he fit as a main character in a television show?

As a matter of fact, absolutely incredibly.

Kirk serves as a wonderfully effective lead, compelling, entertaining, and interesting.  Infinitely more developed than most leads of his time, and even more modern examples, Kirk was a game-changer, a revolutionary kind of protagonist who just worked.  The perfect balance of the main trio of the series, Kirk is the perfect face for Roddenberry’s ideals: a hopeful pragmatist, an idealist who proves the best of humanity: compassion mixed with intelligence, boldness combined with understanding.  A man of action surrounded by True Companions, Kirk was an extremely gripping protagonist who felt intensely, a perfect person for the audience to connect to and be invested in.  He drove the stories, opposed the villains, and always saved the crew, as a hero should, but it’s important to note that Kirk was hugely human, possessing many of our greatest attributes, but some of our failings as well.  He wasn’t perfect.  Sometimes he made the wrong choice.  In the end, though, he was us, or us as we should strive to be: always learning and helping, and always reaching for the stars.

But of course, Kirk wasn’t alone in his position as the ‘lead’ of the show.  It’s doubtful the show would have survived in the popular culture as well as it did if it weren’t for his support team, his True Companions: Dr. Leonard McCoy, and, more famously: Mr. Spock.

If Kirk represented the best of humanity, Spock represented the critique of it.  In a previous article, I pointed out that Spock exists as a very unique character: a half alien, half human crewmember who, while equally valuable to the script and the characters as Kirk was, served a different purpose: to point out and explore humanity from the outside.

Like I’ve mentioned before, Spock is a different sort of character than Kirk is.  Where Kirk is a demonstration of the best of humanity as we see it, Spock is a demonstration of humanity as someone else might.  He served as a criticism of the human condition, a character at war with himself and his heritage, split between the emotional humans, and the rational Vulcans.  Spock is the Number One, almost Comically Serious as he eschews his more illogical half and chooses to embrace the stoicism of the Vulcan people.  A Gentleman and a Scholar, Spock has Hidden Depths, a heart of gold and deep emotions that he usually succeeds in hiding.

Most of the time.  More on that in a minute.

Spock’s role in the show was The Smart Guy, the Stoic who had all the answers, all the statistics.  He was the champion of impartial logic, of cold rationality.  His job was to give Kirk the hard answers, to bring to him the facts and give him their options, especially the unforgiving ones.  He is the cold to McCoy’s hot, a stern-faced, cold-blooded computer.

Or is he?

Much like Kirk, there is a lot more to Spock than meets the eye.  While the cultural perception of Spock has often mutated into a parody of itself, much as it has done to Kirk’s reputation, Spock remains a much deeper character than he, or a brief skim of the series, lets on.  As I said earlier, Spock is at war with himself, uncomfortable in his own skin.  He insults humans for their humanity, but has strong, deep friendships with them.  He is not above expressing frustration and their emotional natures when pushed (usually by other forces that knock his guard down), but isn’t frustration a human emotion?

Spock is a bag of contradictions, a supposedly emotionless master of sarcasm, a man without feeling who invites his close friends (emotional humans) to a private Vulcan ceremony, a cold-blooded creature with undying loyalty who occasionally makes ‘illogical’ decisions that would make Kirk proud.  A lover of music and a sympathizer to space hippies (Not one of Star Trek’s better episodes, admittedly), Spock was an outsider who fit neither fully as a Vulcan or Human, a person who was struggling to find his place in the universe.

At first, this seems incongruous with the ice-cold exterior he projects, however, rather than being an example of inconsistent writing, it’s a shining example of development and nuance.

You see, Spock never gives up his following of logic.  He just begins to approach it differently.

Spock’s style changes slightly as Star Trek progresses (most notably in the films, released ten years after the show’s final season), from cold, ‘computer’ logic to something else: human logic.

One thing of especial note in the original Star Trek show is that you could see characters visibly affecting one another.  Kirk, Spock and McCoy all influenced each other in the ways they thought, reacted, and planned, and worked best as a unit.  In this, the humanity of the main cast affected Spock in his slow, reluctant appreciation of human merits.  In time, Spock began to make one or two decisions based on human logic, intelligence and emotion.  In episodes like The Menagerie or The Galileo Seven, Spock makes decisions that seem out-of-character for him, based in emotion.

Spock is, in many ways, Star Trek’s best known and favorite character.  The most visibly recognizable, as well as the most distinct, Spock is given more episodes exploring him than any other character, with installments like Amok Time and Journey to Babel, (the latter of which we explore his parents, and discover why it is that Spock has such a hard time with his human half) helping to examine Spock as a character.

The end result was a beloved science fiction icon, Kirk’s right hand man, an analytical, fascinating character as well-crafted and loved as Kirk himself.

Spock and Kirk are often remembered fondly, and are typically considered the most memorable and iconic characters of the franchise, but they don’t work alone.  Their dynamic is as effective as it is because of balance.  Spock is one extreme, and Kirk is the middle, but it’s no good without the other extreme: Dr. Leonard Horatio “Bones” McCoy.

McCoy is all hot-blooded human, the third of the main Power Trio.  An old-fashioned competent doctor who wasn’t entirely thrilled with deep space, McCoy is a deeply emotional character, duty-bound to follow his morals.  He clashed with Spock regularly, routinely criticizing him for his perceived lack of emotion.  Despite the fighting, McCoy respected Spock greatly, counting him as a close friend, despite their arguments and different perspectives.  A cantankerous pacifist (though not above getting into the action when needed), McCoy is a Super Doc and a Sarcastic Devotee, a Grumpy Old Man who serves as the Heart to Spock’s Brain (hah!), a man who values Honor Before Reason who values the Good Old Ways.  He’s a Determined Doctor who does everything he can for his patients, and a Deadpan Snarker to the point where he can match Spock in verbal sparring.

Bones represents the unpolished rawness of humanity, getting carried away with his emotions sometimes, but always with the best intentions.  Another Jerk with a Heart of Gold, McCoy’s gruff nature accompanied a deeply moral man, very concerned with human empathy and doing the right thing.  No philosophical discussion was complete without McCoy’s two cents, telling Kirk what he thought the right thing to do was.  He was the quintessential Knight in Sour Armor, who would follow Kirk to the ends of the earth, complaining the entire way.

Despite the fact that he’s not as well-known as the other two members of the Power Trio, Bones was a vital component to the True Companions dynamic.  His Vitriolic Best Buds relationship with Spock made up one of the most interesting and compelling dynamics on the show, serving as perfect counterbalances to one another.  However, although his most famous role in the show was arguing with Spock (and delivering phrases such as ‘He’s Dead, Jim’), there is another, equally important position that he held in the trio.

McCoy served as a foil to Kirk, as well as one to Spock, a confidante, a close friend, providing perspective.  While Spock was focused on the logic, Kirk on the best thing for the mission, McCoy’s focus was purely on the ‘patients’, the people, the right thing to do.  No matter the situation, McCoy was the closest to empathy with the people involved, and provided the audience with another surrogate, saying the things that the viewers are thinking.

While not being a terribly big fan of space (and liking transporters even less), Bones was the epitome of the Frontier Doctor to the stars, taking care of every patient, even if they weren’t humanoid (Devil in the Dark) or a heavily pregnant woman who refuses to listen (Friday’s Child).  McCoy was painfully human, reminding us of our most problematic traits while also holding onto that wild, fiery compassion that made him so incredibly humane, relatable, and understandable, making him just as vital to the Enterprise and her crew as Kirk or Spock.

The trio worked best together, providing a perfect main cast for an audience to follow.  The formula was an interesting one, allowing the audience to hear separate viewpoints and ideas, listen in to the philosophical banter, and truly feel the strong friendship holding the leads together.  The dynamic between them was powerful, an extremely vibrant bond that connected all three very different characters.

The result?  Extremely dynamic characters that remain iconic and memorable even to this day.

But the cast didn’t stop there.

The other characters of Star Trek, while not quite possessing the pop-culture iconography of the main trio, still hold their own rather impressive cultural footprint.

None more so than the chief engineer, Montgomery Scott.

Scotty’s job was to be a miracle worker, solving impossible problems in impossibly small amounts of time.  Whether it was the transporters, the phaser banks, the shields, or the engines, Scotty was the man for the job.  Nobody had a better understanding, or love for the Enterprise than Scotty (except maybe Kirk).  He was the king of outside-the-box solutions, and had the Enterprise jury-rigged to push her past her limits more times than can be easily counted.  As the name implies, he was also Scottish, and extremely stereotypically so.  Kilt, whiskey, haggis and all, Scotty was extremely proud of his heritage (though not quite as much as Chekov).  Fitting the traditional stereotypes, Scotty had a fiery temper, with a Berserk Button triggered by any insult to the Enterprise.  A Gadgeteer Genius (and the inventor of Scotty Time) as well as a Genius Bruiser, Scotty was both the brains and brawn, more than capable of holding his own in a fight, or thinking of a new, creative way to push the Enterprise past her capacity.

Scotty also held the distinction of being third in command, routinely taking the Captain’s chair when both Kirk and Spock were in the landing party.  He was also the focus of a few episodes, making him a rare character with a Day in the Limelight, with episodes such as Wolf in the Fold, The Lights of Zetar, By Any Other Name, and The Trouble with Tribbles giving him a little more screen time and story than is typical.  Scotty was an indispensable member of the crew, a life-saver on more than one occasion, and another of the legendary, iconic characters of the original Star Trek.

But it didn’t stop there.

Lieutenant Nyota Uhura was another prominent character.  As the ship’s communications officer, she codified the term ‘Bridge Bunny’, although she proved herself far more useful than she’s typically thought of.  Whenever given the chance, Uhura is a capable Action Girl, intelligent, witty, and good at her job, being extremely fluent in multiple languages.  She too got her days in the limelight, with episodes such as Mirror Mirror, The Gamesters of Triskelion, and The Trouble with Tribbles giving her more to do than just sit at her station and say ‘hailing frequencies open’.  Uhura was Silk Hiding Steel, not typically in the heat of the battle, but tough as nails when she had to be.  (I’ve talked about Uhura’s extensive influence on the real world in the Legacy article, but even that doesn’t scratch the surface of what Uhura’s impact has been.)

There were others on the bridge crew of equal importance, including the ship’s helmsman, Hikaru Sulu.

Sulu was a level-headed officer, amiable and cultured, with an extensive knowledge of botany, fencing, and antiques.  Yet another Deadpan Snarker (it must run in the cast), Sulu is another Genius Bruiser, as skilled in fighting as he is in his piloting, with a great sense of humor.  He is given special attention in episodes like Mirror Mirror and The Naked Time (Albeit as evil, and Brainwashed and Crazy), but often got great character moments in multiple episodes (especially Shore Leave).  A reliable officer and loyal to the core, he made an interesting character by himself, although he did end up forming a fun ‘Those Two Guys’ dynamic with the youngest of the cast, Pavel Chekov.

Chekov was introduced in season 2 as the navigator of the Enterprise.  A bright young man with a fierce, passionate loyalty to Mother Russia (which evidently invented every good thing known to man), Chekov tended to be at the receiving end of a lot of the embarrassing agony in the series (mostly because Walter Koenig had a great scream).  Also serving as a relief science officer, Chekov was plenty smart, if a bit of a Cloudcuckoolander, and the king of Cultural Posturing.  Reckless and impulsive to balance Sulu’s calm good humor, Chekov’s temper tended to get the better of him.  Like the others, he’s given a bit more screen time in episodes such as Mirror Mirror, The Trouble with Tribbles, The Way to Eden, The Deadly Years and Spectre of the Gun, but got to shine in plenty of other episodes, demonstrating his capabilities (despite being ‘The Intern’ and the Plucky Comic Relief) as a competent officer.  Unsurprisingly, he was yet another Deadpan Snarker, lending his style of jokes well to bounce off of Sulu’s drier humor.

But there was more to the crew than the bridge.

Another crew member of note was Christine Chapel, one of the nurses who operated in the sickbay.  Chapel was notable for having an attraction to Spock, as well as being another in the long line of Enterprise Deadpan Snarkers.  One of the most caring of the Enterprise’s crew, Chapel was given larger roles in episodes like The Naked Time, What Are Little Girls Made Of?, Amok Time, and Plato’s Stepchildren.

Arguably though, one of the most important characters in all of Star Trek was the Companion Cube: the Enterprise herself.

The Enterprise was one of the most powerful ships in Starfleet, a character in her own right.  The epitome of the Cool Starship, the Enterprise was well known for Explosive Overclocking, and always coming through in the end (with a little help from Scotty).  A Lightning Bruiser of a ship, the Enterprise became as legendary as her captain and crew, as beloved as the characters themselves to the point where one of NASA’s shuttles was named after her.

The characters of Star Trek are legends, both in and out of universe, and they are for a reason.  No member of the crew is useless.  Everyone has a purpose and a job to do, and each was distinct and unique.  No two characters were the same, and each brought their own special personality and abilities to each episode they appeared in.

And that’s what made the drama of the show work so well.

Each character felt real, memorable and genuine.  We as an audience worry for them with each danger, and cheer with each victory.  We liked these people.  We cared about what happened to them.

And they worked.

In each scenario and situation, the characters found new and interesting ways to deal with the circumstances, while never losing the core elements of their personalities.  That’s important, hugely so.  These characters were loved, and still are, for a reason.  They work very well as characters, both in main and supporting roles, providing entertaining and compelling figures for the audience to invest in.  The balance between relatability and entertainment was hit perfectly for every single character, allowing everyone to shine in their own ways in each episode.  They felt real, and in the end, that’s the point of a character.

After all, one doesn’t get to be some of the most iconic television characters of all time by being boring.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  Join us next time as we discuss Star Trek’s place in the times and the culture.  If you have anything you’d like to say, don’t forget to leave an ask!  I hope to see you all in the next article.

[honeybee-babe]

The TUA fandom needs to be more self-aware of all the racial stereotypes and biases they hold. Like, I have seen too many "Vanya and Klaus never hurt anyone and are always so bullied" takes, or "Diego being irrationally angry or possibly violent", or "Allison has it easy, she should have been a support object to Vanya", or "Ben is actually abusive to Klaus and Klaus is just perfect". Like who you like, but please stop playing out harmful stereotypes again and again.

Honestly? You are so right. 

The really bad one is the blaming of Allison for her getting her throat slit and acting like she was the one in the wrong for rumoring Vanya (while manipulated, AT AGE 4) and the one offense was worse, like are you for fucking real? Or the not blaming her per se but saying “Allison deserved to have her throat slit”. And being mad at Luther for locking up Vanya, which yeah it was a bad decision... but if it was Klaus whose throat she slit, it would be the COMPLETE opposite reaction.

Diego being irrationally angry or possibly violent, I don’t know about. That’s kind of how his character is in the show is the thing -- he has a short fuse and picks fights a lot. I mean, he and Luther both were boxers at time, and Diego in particular is pretty quick to violence and tries to pick fights (at least in season 1). But I see it more like an immaturity/emotionally stunted thing. I haven’t really seen people acting like he’s bad or anything. I will say though: I like when people have him acknowledge that he’s Latino and “act” Latino in fanfictions, but only when it is done authentically. But most of the people who write him like this are clearly not Latino, and it is very obvious and extremely uncomfortable to read. Like they take only the biggest stereotypes you can imagine, and incorporate them in the most obvious ways.

And about Ben, I agree that it’s fucked up when people act like he’s abusive -- but I don’t think that has anything to do with race. I think it honestly has more to do with them trying to woobify Klaus and act like he’s a Poor Baby all the time, and everyone else is “out to get him.” Even Ben, who stayed by his side for years and constantly helped him, was his only consistent friend, etc. Anyone who doesn’t treat their fave (Klaus, Vanya.... mostly Klaus) like an angel, is bad.

Anyone who acts like Ben is abusive to Klaus, I just...HOW!??! The possession storyline brought up issues of consent, yes I understand that (although, I think Jill was the one who we should have been more concerned for in that situation). But if we’re discussing their relationship at large, how and when is Ben “abusive?” I hate when people throw around terms like that, they act like someone saying one mean comment makes them abusive -- as if Ben telling Klaus one time that his pants are ugly makes him abusive (I kid, but this is truly how people act in this fandom). If anyone, Klaus has been the one who was using Ben for his own gain for 16 years, and you know based on how they talked that he never said thank you.

There is a very potent racial stereotype people use with Ben though, and it’s how the biggest Ben stans have treated him in fanon. With very little to go off in terms of his personality from season 1, everyone decided Ben was this super shy kid who was smart, just read books all the time, was very quiet -- basically, an incredibly passive kid. In season 1, in his very few lines, he is sarcastic with Klaus all the time, always has some sardonic comment, and is very vocal given his situation. In Vanya’s flashback to their childhood when she walks by Klaus and Ben, Ben rather aggressively tells Vanya to get out.... I’m pretty sure.that’s our one example of child!Ben having dialogue.

Like, am I the only one who finds it a bit telling that the fanon version of child Ben is the stereotypical passive/nerdy East Asian kid? Because canon does not show him like that at all, yes he was a good kid, but nothing in canon suggests he was shy, quiet, passive, etc. Vanya was clearly presented as the shy/quiet one, due to her isolation. Also, the comics don’t show Ben’s character to be like that at all either, so don’t try that.

Also, I don’t ship any of the siblings, but I don’t judge people for it. However, I’ve seen people who really hate on Alluther, only to ship the other siblings... it’s hypocritical as fuck, and you can’t convince me that it has nothing to do with them being an interracial couple.

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Had to watch late...wow...yikes

I mean I just kind of rolled my eyes and laughed at it but it’s literally all terrible. Every second of it. 

Let’s start with the Lydia stuff. I just...I don’t understand what this pension scam plot is supposed to be. Is it still meant to have been Paul that did it? If so, why are we torturing Lydia further with Paul nonsense after the credit card debt? What is that actual point here? If it’s not a Paul thing, then???? There’s literally been no talk about pensions or pension scams anywhere. We don’t even know whose pensions she’s meant to have been stealing. It’s not like she stole from people in the village that we knew. And who the fuck are all these people that suddenly care about these things? It just literally makes zero sense and I see no need to make Lydia more miserable. I just don’t get it. And therefore, I can’t connect with any of it because it’s all meaningless. 

I never need to hear about the Amelia/Beth plot again. Please don’t bring it up Dan. It was scarring enough the first time. 

I want to like this Kim/Gabby stuff more than I do cause right now I really don’t care. I just wish I was more invested in this whole poisoning plot. I hope Bernice coming back livens things up. 

Also, I just really need covid restrictions to end so we can have more customers in these places because it’s just always so silly to only have the main characters there in these little groups. 

I’m so bored of Dawn and Jamie. Honestly, I don’t even know how Kim can watch her live stream. It would put me to sleep. 

I don’t know why they bothered hiring that kid to play that Tyson character unless he’s going to do more than ride around on his bike. Maybe he’ll find them both passed out or something. 

I wholeheartedly agree with everyone who doesn’t understand why Sandra is a COMPLETELY different character now than she was last time. It drives me crazy how much they just continually retcon people to fit the plot of the moment. I just want some sense of consistency. Is that too much to ask for? I wonder what the actress thought when she read the new stuff. I mean I know she was flaky before and I know personality number two gave her a pill problem. I don’t remember her specifically having a drinking problem though. I guess they wanted to go for “like mother like daughter” but it’s weird. Also she definitely wasn’t so uninterested in Liv’s life and problems before. I feel like it was almost the opposite even if she didn’t deal with it well. I guess we’re meant to just think that’s the booze? I don’t know. 

Also...the robron slander! Tell you what, Aaron should have kept running off with that fella. I’m sure they’d both be doing better now even if they were looking over their shoulders. 

And the Ben stuff....haha. I mean...speaking of retconning. Ugh. I just hate that Ben is there all the time and just attached to Aaron. It’s so weird. I mean I realize he was there when it was announced that Liv was missing and so he might just stick around to help but it’s still weird. Especially because there was no scene with them where he was like “want me to stay? I want to help”. Instead, we’re just meant to believe Aaron is fine with this guy hanging around? 

Also, him being the one to have all the answers to everything drove me nuts. I guess you could say it’s because he’s not the one going through this and he can be more calm and level headed but still, it’s feels...manipulative...for the audience, to try and get us to like him. Because look he’s supporting Aaron. Blah. Whatever. You have to earn that role mate. 

And ditto to everyone commenting on how he really shouldn’t know that Liv is brave and clever and sharp and whatever else he said. I too was screaming “HOW WOULD YOU KNOW????!” at the screen. 

In my head, I was thinking the best way for them to try and reintegrate Ben into Aaron’s life would be to have them work on something together and have him see a different side to Aaron, but this wasn’t what I meant. This really does just stick him in there like he’s been there all along. It’s weird. If they didn’t want to add in lines that Aaron was hanging out with Ben off screen during those 4 and a half months, which honestly, I’m glad they didn’t cause...gross, the least they could have done was have him check in with Aaron now and try and explain some of it. Like I said above, just have him ask Aaron if he should stay or have him look awkward and have Aaron ask him to stay and help. Anything to explain why he’s just hanging around the whole time. 

Also Chas telling him “thank you love” for the tea or whatever just made me irrationally mad. Haha. 

And I definitely thought Aaron was saying “what are you still doing here?” to Ben and not Chas. And ugh and Chas being all “it’s better he lashes out at me”. 

I just hate all of these people. Haha. 

I just wonder what they’re going to do now with them. Are they going to backtrack from this little detour and have them go on a proper date? Are they going to actually have a real conversation about what it is that they’re doing? Or is Ben just going to keep being his shadow and then they’ll just ....be a couple or something terrible like that? I just have zero faith in these people to even tell a halfway coherent story. As is evidenced by this rant, they clearly have a terrible track record. 

Sigh. 

[himooonlight]

who are you? pt. 2 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 4.8k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: reggie is too cute. that's the warning

A/N: english is not my first language and this is my first fanfic, so please, be nice ok? enjoy :)

you can read part 1 here

- What? How can you know that? - Julie asks, sounding surprised. - No, Luke, I don't know her.

  Reggie's gaze is fixed on me. I feel chills rising from my belly to the tips of my ears so I shake my shoulders, trying to get rid of the sensation.

  - Alex, don't do that. - Reggie says, looking in my direction. Confused, I turn around looking for Alex, but there is nobody there.

  It's amazing how realistic the hologram is. It's almost like I can see the colors of Reggie's eyes clearly, even his pores and freckles. I search for a projector and find nothing, so I decide it's time to stop ignoring my questions. Reggie has already confirmed that he is who I imagined, so it's Julie's turn to clarify what kind of madness is going on.

  The acting classes haven't prepared me at all for the moment that I find myself questioning my own sanity.

  - Are Alex and Luke part of the band? - I ask to no one in particular. I accept responses from Julie or Reggie. Maybe I prefer Julie, since Reginald is a synonym for craziness in my mind. - Reggie never told me their names.

  - Can't you see them?

  - No. Are they here too? Why can't I see their hologram as well?

  Reggie gives a short sarcastic laugh, something I've never seen him do. Be ironic. That was not as attractive as his easy-going personality, his funny and flirtatious ways and his warm smile. It seemed to clash with his version of my dreams and I wondered if maybe it was all a lie. It could be that I had created that Reggie completely and as much as the happiness I felt for him was not a lie, it could be that he, as the person I loved, did not exist. Still, I wanted to be close to him and be able to love him from up close.

  - We are not holograms and I thought you already knew that. - He replied. - No, Alex, it's okay. I can't explain, but I just know she is important. It's natural, just like you can tell when it's time to go to the bathroom, you know?

  I look at Julie waiting for her to say something, mainly because I prefer not to think about Reggie's comparison of his feelings with an internal sphincter alerting his brain about his physiological needs.

  Julie doesn't seem convinced, but she looks defeated.

  - I think we have a lot to explain, but we need time. Can you meet us after class? In the chemistry lab? It's my last class of the day. - She says, looking tired and conflicted. I really don’t want to make her feel that way, but I am already too irritated at the way I handled things before. I'm almost mad at my own personality.

  I am basically a shy person. However, there's a lot of different personas within me that can appear depending on who's around me or where I am. The original Y/N, the person I am independently of the environment or how I am with, is irrationally careful. I prefer to observe people, not bother anyone, not speak too loudly if it is not necessary. That's why I am not offended that Julie doesn't know me; because I am unapologetic for my personality - I am not ashamed of not wanting everyone to know my name, no matter how much I like the art that puts me in the spotlight.

  Maybe art is different for girls like me and Carrie Wilson, for example. She performs for other people while I do it for myself, to help and express myself. I'm still not sure what kind of person Julie is, possibly a mix of both of us.

  - I think I'll spend the rest of the day with... what's your name again? - Reggie says, looking a little more like the version of my dreams.

  I was excited before, but now I am just questioning my own decisions. I seemed to have complicated Julie's life and Reggie didn't seem so happy to meet me. The idea that I had created for that moment was certainly better in my head than in real life, because in my imagination Reginald would have explanations for me and would also fall in love easily. I blame it on my overthinking skills and stupid research, because according to what I had read, it was a case of "connection beyond life", not just a series of coincidences and feelings nurtured with patience. Apparently, we were soulmates. 

  Or it could be that I saw his band somewhere before and created the whole story in my mind. Detailed and with too many specific facts, but it's still a possibility.

  For the first time, I don't prefer to believe in the rational explanation. Sometimes it just takes a little bit of madness and magic for things to sound and be better.

  - My name is Y/N L/N. - I answer. - But in a dream you called me…

  - L/N! - A shout coming from the door interrupts me. Nick is standing there, looking weird. His dark jeans and long black jacket don't seem to match the boy who usually greets me with an excited and happy smile. It's something in his posture and in the way his eyes seem to call for help. He looks uncomfortable. - I waited for you in the cafeteria to help me with math, but you didn't show up.

  He doesn't say anything about Reggie, so I assume he disappeared again. I don't know what Julie's trick is, but I don't turn around to check so I don't look crazy.

  Nick's features soften unnaturally. He seems to be practicing some theatrical exercise, considering that his mouth forms and deforms a smile every second, imitating a broken doll. His eyes are on Julie, as if expecting a reaction from her and I wonder if he's using me to try to make her jealous. Which clearly wouldn't do any good. People don't even associate my name with his; everyone knows that I am only his tutor. And to me he is almost like a distant younger cousin.

  - Sorry, Julie was helping me with a song. - I lie, smiling weakly at him and adjusting my backpack. I don't like to lie because I'm bad at it, but we're not close enough for me to feel bad or anything. The actress persona helps at times like this. - But now I have to go to my next class. Thanks for the help, Julie. Tomorrow at lunch I'll help you, Nick. I'm really sorry, I completely forgot about it.

  I nod at her and widen my eyes when I see Reggie standing beside me. I turn completely to Nick and he doesn't show any reaction, so I just keep walking outside with Reggie by my side, looking at me with a funny look on his face. He walks sideways and I can't help but smile at the feeling of him so close to me.

  In order not to look crazy, I search my pockets for earphones and grab a script from the last play we worked on. I pretend to train lines while talking to him.

  - Nobody can see you. This is too weird. Shouldn't you be a hologram? - I ask, looking ahead and speaking quietly. There aren't many students in the hallways yet because there are still a few minutes before class starts, but I need to be discreet anyway. - Why can I see you then?

  In a wider step, he stops in front of me and starts walking backwards. I can look him in the eyes while I feel butterflies in my stomach. With his attention on me, I seem to have an entire zoo inside my stomach wanting to express how I feel about him.

  - I'm not a hologram. - He answers. - Do you know what happens to people when they die?

  - They turn to dust? - I try. Reggie ponders, but nods no. - They turn into stars?

  He laughs. In a precious way that seems to heal any pain I may feel.

  He laughs. And time seems to stop.

  Seeing his smile and his happiness in front of me makes me want to physically express what I feel, so before I can think about it, my arms reach up to hug him. In slowmotion, I see Reggie close his eyes and smile, as if waiting for my arms to wrap around him, as if he also wants a physical confirmation of affection. His cute dimples appear and I imagine that I, standing alone in the hall, look like an idiot.

  My arms go through him, so I pretend I'm stretching.

  - I wish I could feel you. - He speaks. His tone breaks my heart even when I thought it was not possible to feel more disappointmented.

I don't know what to say to him, so I don't say anything. It was natural in my dreams to walk hand in hand, touch his nose with mine, hug him and feel the warmth emanating from his body. Both dreams, as a man and in the recent ones as myself: I always knew that Reginald was there. As much as dreams were not part of physical reality, I seemed to really feel him, so I made an effort to demonstrate how happy he made me feel. And he also didn't hold back, always expressing with his body that he was there; either touching my hair, playing with my fingers, bumping his shoulders against mine, anything. I didn't understand how frustrating it could be to not be able to touch him until this moment. When this simple verb is all I desire.

  To touch him.

  But he is dead.

  I'm in love with a ghost that lived in my dreams.

  The two of us, defeated and without exchanging another word, get to the auditorium quickly. The door is open, but there is no one inside. We enter in silence and sit in the back. The comfortable black chairs and the maroon carpet are about to witness my madness when he sits beside me and puts his hand on mine. He stares at his fingers with intensity, making a vein in his neck pop a little. I can't help looking at him without reservations, mentally writing down his details. The way his face is triangular, his pink cheeks and his adorable asymmetrical nose. His lips are slightly parted and his hair looks so soft and inviting to the touch. I only look away from his face when I feel a light weight on my skin.

  He is touching my hand in a timid and almost imperceptible way. Shocked, I look at the position of our fingers, feeling hope run through my body. The intoxicating and numbing hope.

  Hope that he can be real.

  - I can hold a few things when I focus. - Reggie doesn't look able to focus on more than one thing at the same time though. - And with you I have difficulty focusing, to be honest.

  With that comment, I can't help but smile. My shock is exchanged with happiness to know that I'm not feeling all these beautiful feelings alone. That I'm not by myself, trying to understand the bad ones either.

  - Are you a ghost, Reggie? - The question rolls off my tongue with difficulty. It doesn't sound like a question; it's more of a statement. He confirms my assumption and I can taste the bad flavor that hope can give. It's a taste of disappointment, sadness, resentment. - And I am your unfinished business, hum? What does that mean?

  - I'm not sure what I need to do, but I know it involves you. At least I think so. And even if you don't feel the same way, you can see me, but not Alex and Luke. Until now, I thought we had unfinished business together, but maybe each one of us has separate things that we need to take care of. - His touch disappears and I miss him. I can't feel him anymore, but the weight of his words certainly make up for it. - We need to find out what's our deal.

  "Our deal". So romantic.

  Before I can answer, the teacher arrives with a group of students behind him. I wave at them and get up, sitting in the third row. I like to be close, but not too close. That way I have some space to ponder about wanting to participate or just keep watching.

  - Y/N. - Reggie calls. I can't say anything with so many people around, so I decide to ignore him. Mr. Ortega, the teacher, looks excited. We will start discussing the characters for the next play and he will probably comment on contributions to the story. - L/N. Darling. Cutie. - I still don't answer, but I can't help smiling. Listening to those things really feels like he's the Reggie from my dreams. - Pumpkin. Precious little nugget.

  My attention remains focused on the teacher, who decides to sit on the edge of the stage. He pushes himself up with his arms and turns his torso to land correctly where he wants to. It's amazing how most of the theater people seem to express themselves naturally, as if they can float. Most of my classmates also look like this, as if they don't overthink anything. What they wear, how they speak, their hand movements; everything is fluid. It's intriguing how different people can be.

  I assume I can be wrong too. Maybe the teacher thought long before he sitted there, maybe he thought about it over lunch. Maybe my classmates are nervous to answer simple questions, maybe even Carrie has her doubts about herself. People are also intriguing because you can never tell what's on their mind, how they truly feel, what's honest and what's just mean lies. 

  Most days I'm fine not knowing though.

  - If you don't answer me, I'll be mean. - The teacher starts talking about our choice between a musical or an immersive play (that he sounds very excited about). - You leave me no choice, Y/N. Hey, bowl of cereal that's been sitting out for like an hour. Tiny wet socks.

  He needs to stop before I start laughing while the teacher talks about his love for immersive theater. I look in his direction as if begging for him to stop, but Reggie sees it as an incentive.

  I couldn't have created his personality. Not in my dreams nor in real life. Reggie is interesting, quirky and too adorable for me to have invented him. My imagination is not so fertile as to be able to come up with a person as engaging as him. But it is no comfort to know that he is a ghost, that there is no chance that my dreams could come true.

  I was basically stuck on a roller coaster that I didn't want to go on. It was like I was at the top, happy to see the whole park and sad to know that I was going to fall soon. Ruthlessly, with the possibility of getting sick on the way, sure. Still there was no possibility of leaving or regretting being there. There was just the option of going forward knowing I couldn't be the same as I was before I saw the park from up there.

  - Rainy day. - He continues. I take a pen out of my backpack and flip the script over, writing a "stop it" in block letters. - Do you need to pay attention in this class?

  I look at the teacher, who continues to talk excitedly about our options for the play, and write "you've got 5 minutes", to which he responds by jumping in his seat. I keep looking ahead, but pay attention to what he says, leaving my palm facing up. He sees it as an invitation and leaves his hand over mine, without touching it. Reggie begins to tell a story of when he went to a kennel and saw a puppy named Y/N and wanted to adopt the little animal, but he found out in the worst way that he was allergic. He said he didn't care. Then he told me that he liked my perfume and that it reminded him of spring. And that he missed being alive. I write a "I can't smell you; what do you smell like?", which he reads quickly. He takes his wrist up to his nose and smells it.

  - I think I smell like autumn. - He shrugs. - I'll let you pay attention now. See you with Julie later, okay? Have a good rest of the day.

  Reggie leans over, like he's going to kiss me on the cheek. He did that in my dreams too many times, whenever he said hi or goodbye. It had started with a conversation about different cultures and ended with a promise to travel together - just words thrown in the wind. I remember waking up sad to know it would never happen. With him so close now, I can only hold my breath and hope he can kiss me.

  - Sorry. - He says, walking away before we can find out how his lips would feel on my skin in real life. He disappears before I can say goodbye.

  I am spring, he is autumn. Opposite seasons that will never exist at the same time in the same place. Both important, intense and simply different; both loved. It's still very bittersweet that such beautiful feelings can't blossom together; because when I bloom, he dies, just like autumn leaves.

  The rest of the class is focused on the choice of the play and I try my best to pay attention, but it's difficult to think of anything other than Reginald. I can only focus on something else when I am in the last class of the day and Nick sits next to me. It's math and I assume he's going to ask for help with his homework, but he starts the conversation questioning my relationship with Julie. His tone is not subtle curiosity, but more like someone who is going to ask for a favor.

  - I really just wanted to ask something about a song that I thought would be good for our next play. - I try to sound chill about it, but the way Nick looks at me makes me anxious. He's different, acting like he's playing a part I don't know about. I don't know much about him to bet on it, but I believe I am good enough at reading people to know that there is something strange about him today. - But is there anything I can help you with? I thought you were going to see her on Saturday. You did go to her house, right?

  He smiles at me and a shiver runs down my spine.

  - Yes, I went to her house. I just wanted to know if you guys talked about me.

  I answer a simple "no" and let my brain interpret his words and actions. His posture is too upright and there is an air of superiority in the way he moves. His body language looks different. He seems to feel like he is better than everyone and I never took Nick as pretentious. 

  He starts to draw something that I don't really identify at first, but I soon recognize the tarot card number one. 

  The Magician.

  The man in his drawing has one arm up and the other is pointing down, representing the magician's connection between the spiritual realms and the material realms. I can only tell this is the Magician card because of the four elements Nick draws on the paper: a cup, a pentacle, a sword and a wand. It symbolizes the four elements water, earth, air and fire, meaning that the magician has it all.

  Nick takes his time to draw the flowers and foliage around the magician, which makes me think that he believes that this person or feeling is very creative and clever. At least, that's the original meaning for the card. The boy also draws the infinite symbol above the head and when I think he's about to finish the drawing with the snake around the magician's waist, he stops.

  It's incomplete.

  The infinity symbol and the snake mean access to unlimited potential. Maybe Nick's magician doesn't feel so powerful. Maybe there's something holding him back.

  - Sneaky, huh?

  His voice is firm and low. He doesn't sound mad or surprised that I was in fact watching him. He sounds superior, like he is trying to tease me.

  - Sorry.

  I can't focus on the rest of the class because it seems that as much as Nick's head is turned forward, towards where the teacher is, it seems like he's paying attention to every move I make. How I hold the pen, how I breathe, how I write. It's nerve wracking.

  When the class is over and Nick leaves, I think about his drawing and notice a detail that I hadn't paid attention to before. Nick's quick fingers painting the magician's robe.

  It's a black robe. Nick's magician has a black robe.

  It's never a black essentially, because it's supposed to be white, alluding to purity.

  - Ready to go? - Reggie's head appears on the door. I pack the rest of my things and say goodbye to the teacher. She smiles at me, not knowing I'm about to speak to the dead.

  We really never know what's going on in someone's life.

  I take out my phone and put it close to my ear so I can "talk" to Reggie. My classroom is in the same corridor as the chemistry lab, but at opposite extremes. Because it's a big school, we have about 5 minutes to get there, especially with the slow pace he and I take. The boy smiles and does the same as before, walking backwards in front of me, so that we can talk looking at each other. I like that he also likes to look at me.

  - Tell me some of your stories. - He asks.

  Testing the waters, I tell him the same story I told a few days ago, in my dreams.

  - My mom once ordered two pizzas from different places because she had coupons. The two delivery guys arrived at our door together and one of them started singing "why can't we be friends" in a very funny way, but the other didn't like it very much. In the end I'm sure they exchanged numbers. Too much tension in the air, you know?

  - I can only imagine their faces. - Reggie replies. - But that's very smart of your mom. She sounds nice.

  - She is very cool. My dad is very funny and my older sister is… well, older. She is grumpy most of the time, but she has a good heart. Do you miss your family?

  I would miss mine for sure. I only have my mother, my father and my sister; the rest of the family decided not to accept my sister's girlfriend, which made the four of us form our own independent clan. No aunt, no grandfather, no cousin. Nobody else; we could only trust ourselves. As much as holidays like Christmas could make us smile fakely and reduce our lifespan a little with boring conversations, at the end of the day it is the four of us against the world. A cruel world that did not accept my sister for who she loved, which was stupid.

  - Yeah, a little. My parents didn't love each other anymore, but they were still my parents, right? It doesn't matter that they were a couple first.

  - And they will never stop being your parents. They can split, but even now, they're still your parents, Reggie. - He smiles sadly at me. - Don't you wanna see them?

  We stop for a while in the middle of the hallway. There aren't many students because most of them have already headed to the exit. I put my phone back in my pocket so I can extend my hand to him. Every contact needs to come from him, because no matter how much I focus, I can't meet him halfway. He has to go all the way by himself. He reads my intentions quickly and imitates me, holding his palm up. I can feel the pressure of his hand against mine and his timid warmth. His thumb gets between my thumb and pointing finger, almost intertwining our hands. His pinky is almost circling mine in a half hug. I stare at his eyes with love and adoration, hoping I'm interpreting right and he is indeed doing the same.

  He must be focusing a lot for this to happen.

  - Would you help me find them? - He asks.

  Reggie doesn't know, but with his hands on mine I'd say yes to anything and everything.

  - Of course! We'll find them.

  He starts walking again and I quickly put my hand down.

  - Thank you. But now, tell me: - His smile makes me smile too. I'm glad this version of him is very happy all the time. - did it hurt?

- Let me guess. When I fell from heaven?

  - No.

  - What?

  - Did it hurt when you fell for me?

  I roll my eyes and walk faster, passing him to get to the classroom before I can say that yes, it hurted. A lot. Falling for him was oh so sweet, but also hurtful.

  Loving him made me realize that distraction and destruction sound awfully alike and sometimes you don't understand which one it is. Distraction, destruction; both, none.

  What started as a way to feel more excited about life and its possibilities turned into something more, something bigger that I couldn't explain. In the beginning the dreams were entertaining, interesting. Just emotions not really related to me as a person. It was more about sensations, experiences. But soon enough I was thinking about him when I got up too, not just before going to sleep.

- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says as soon as I see her exiting the classroom. She's with Flynn, who probably knows everything by now. She smiles and waves at me. I wave back and Reggie does too, like the fool he is. - Do you want to go to my house? You can stay for dinner too, if you want.

  - I'll check with my sister. If I know her at all, she'll take me to your house and check with your dad if he's fine with everything. Is it ok?

  - Sure! - Julie answers. - Is she going to pick you up here?

  - Yeah. She'll be here any minute actually. You can text me your address and I'll meet you there.

  She hands me her phone and I add my number saved under "Y/N (who's very sorry about everything)". They wave goodbye while Reggie stays by my side.

  - I'll see you in a bit, right?

  He sounds unsure and I wonder if anyone would ever be stupid enough to leave him. His puppy eyes are too much for me to handle, so I start walking to the parking lot, where my sister usually waits for me. He follows me.

  - Of course. Even if my sister says no, I will text Julie and we will figure something out. - That would be the moment that I would give his hand a squeeze, just to make sure he knows I mean it. - Don't worry, okay?

  - I'm not worried. I have this feeling I'll always find you, so it's alright. - Before disappearing, he winks at me. - See you later, alligator.

  I'm still smiling when I spot Daisy's car and get in. My sister looks at me with her eyes half closed, silently questioning what happened for me to be in such a good mood.

  - Okay, I have boy problems. - I say. She doesn't drive, so she can still stare at me. - Big ones.

  - Like "his dead body is too big to hide" or "you like him" problems?

  - I like him.

  - It's a shame then. I could've helped you with the other one. - She starts driving and misses the way I roll my eyes at her answer.  - Why is it a problem though?

  - Oh, it's simple. He doesn't exist.

  - Too many fanfictions, huh?

  - Something like that. - I shrug. - Can you take me to a friends house? I'd like to talk to her about my boy problems.

As we drive to Julie's house, I wonder why I'd be Reggie's unfinished business and if I'll ever be able to meet him halfway, because we do share the same feeling, even though I didn't say anything to him before.

  I also feel like I would always find him.

  Doesn't matter when or where, I'd always find Reggie.