#I just dont understand entering an adult space and saying adults don’t talk to me

[anonforlackofabettername]

I run a tumblr community on here. It’s small, all ages, fairly slow — nothing to really write home about. I’m fairly hands off as an admin (I only made the community so that it would exist, not because I had some grand vision for it) and most of my work is removing spam posts and porn bots from the community. That being said, I do every couple of weeks take a glance through everyone who’s joined to make sure there aren’t any porn bot or spam accounts lurking around. One of those checks had someone who’d been on tumblr for all of a week with an “[age under 18], 18+ dni” message in their pinned. Why they decided to join an all ages community run by adults idk but after talking with the other mods we decided that the best course of action was to remove them from the community with a note of “hey if you decide you’re comfortable interacting with adults feel free to come back but until then, sorry.”

I share this because there was no way for them to interact in the community without violating their own stated DNI. Maybe they just wanted to lurk. Maybe they didn’t think that far ahead cause they were a teenager. It’s really unimportant in the grand scheme of things. They put themselves in a position where any post they made was going to have their boundaries violated and rather than wait until an incident happened, it was easiest and safest from a mod perspective to remove them from the space. That’s what I think about now when I think about DNIs. I think about someone walking into a room full of people talking with a sign that says “if the wrong person talks to me I’ll start screaming” and the knowledge that 99% of the people talking were the wrong person.

i don't respect DNIs not in the sense i go out of my way to break them but in the sense that i don't respect DNIs as a concept and consider them to be something of a red flag in general.

i'm not sure how to explain it but it's the combination of usually putting very serious issues on the same level as fandom stuff, the fact that half the time people don't even know what they're against beyond 'the bad stuff' therefore even further watering these issues down, and the idea that other people are expected to manage your online existence for you.

there's a passiveness to it that i think is actually a problem and it does not surprise me in the slightest that people with DNIs tend to view what media they consume as activism. do you get what i'm saying.

[nyctophilin]

A little rant

Hi! So, I have seen this post, and I told myself “This shit can’t be real!” so I decided to exit the page and enter it again and the post was still there. So I did it again and again and again and the post was still there. So this shit is real! Okay. :D

The op said that people got her hot and you know what? She got me hot too, so let’s talk about this. There were so many...things going on in that post and honestly, I am still trying to convince myself that it’s real. Fortunately, op broke it down in three sections so it will be easier for me to address that hot mess.

Warning: I have mentioned some triggering things in here like r@pe, abuse in BDSM relationships, sexualisation, spreading of personal information. Please proceed with caution.

Let’s start with section A, shall we? This whole section is about people being uncomfortable with other people writing smut. OP starts this section by saying “something people need to realize is not everyone is a soft stan or minor.” and they are right. However, there is a difference between being a hard stan and straight-up sexualising someone. 

There is nothing wrong with writing smut, but how you behave outside of that smut fic is what defines you. Some of the writers they are defending just straight up sexualise the boys. There is no creativity there. Being turned on by Hyunjin talking to his dog and sexualising something that Chan said as a response to a mean comment is another level of disgusting that some people have reached. There is no hard stan behaviour in all that, there is just disgusting people behaviour. The fact that they are “adults” does not excuse it.

Another thing they said in the A section was “as writers they can do what they would like to when it comes to their content.” and they are right here too. Is not like we can stop them from continuing to post whatever the fuck they want. However, that doesn’t mean that what they post is right and people shouldn’t be upset about it. Lolita mangas is a thing people do because they want to. Does it make it right? No. Writing fanfiction about real-life terrorists is a thing that people do because they want to. Does it make it right? No. So when someone comes for your favourite smut writer with other arguments besides “I don’t like it.” and points out problematic things with the fic then you have no right telling people to “just dont read their content.”. There are writers that write r@pe fanfiction, abusive BDSM dynamics, sexualising little space, romanticizing mental illness and many more and people have all the rights to be upset about this and call them out. So even if it “makes absolutely no sense” I will “take time out of my day to question a writer’s content” not because I don’t like it, but because it’s wrong. Believe it or not, some things are just wrong, whether people like them or not.

Moving on to section B and this is the one that upset me the most. This section is about how some people are uncomfortable with the age gap between idols and writers that are adults. To sum it up for you because I am not about to quote the whole shit, OP is basically telling us that as long as both the idol and the writer are adults then the age difference shouldn’t matter.

First of all, let’s not talk about how hellbent has been used totally wrong in this context and it took me a moment to realise what they meant, but yes, some people are really fixated on the age difference between idols and writers. You can’t come at me with the bullshit that “it shouldn't matter if everyone in question is an adult.” because you are saying that an almost 30 years old having sexual fantasies about a 19 years old is okay. It’s not. The 19 years old is fresh off of high school and the 30 years old has been working for 6 years. If you wouldn’t be okay with it happening in real life then you shouldn’t be okay with it happening to an idol. 

Some smut writers don’t even write for Jeonging because they say that it’s uncomfortable having this big age difference between them and that they can’t see themselves having sexual fantasies about a senior in high school/freshman in college. If they feel like that and understand the concern people have regarding this matter then so can the other writers in a similar situation. There is no excuse here. If you are a 28 years old thinking sexually about an 18/19 years old(because this is what you need to do in order to be able to write smut) then that is just disgusting. Period.

Second of all, I won’t even talk about the “mathematical representation” part. That whole bit it’s just pure garbage. Just take the whole part and throw it away. This is not a situation that you should represent using math. We are talking about real-life people here, not numbers. What if you were 19 and had a 30 years old write their sexual fantasies about you? Would you feel comfortable with that? Of course, the boys know that the fans have sexual fantasies about them. They are not stupid. However, and this is just my opinion, I don’t think that the first people that come into Jeongin’s mind when he thinks about that, are people approaching or being in their 30s.

Now, part C and this one is a handful. This was supposed to be about minors being upset that adults gatekeep smut but I don’t know if it really respects the theme. It starts with the question “if youre a minor and you get upset over adults writing smut then truly what are you doing??” and this is exactly what they are doing. They are getting upset that adults write smut. It says it right there, in the question. Honestly, this has nothing to do with the “gatekeeping smut” part. If you wanted it to be about that, then it should have been structured in a whole other way.

But anyway, they continue to say how minors interacting with NSFW is wrong and they shouldn’t do it and I fully agree and I have stated this before. They should not partake in this kind of activities because it was not meant for them, but I have never seen anyone say anything about “gatekeeping” smut. Minors are upset at the hypocrisy. And believe it or not, minors writing erotica is not illegal. It’s very much legal. Is it morally correct? Absolutely not and it’s best if they don’t go down that path because it will only harm them. But can you do anything to stop them? No. The only thing you can do is ask them to stop writing it and if they refuse is best to block them. But again, I don’t support minors doing that and I hope they don’t.

Also, don’t even dare tell me about adults that have minors dni or 18+ in their bio. I know for a fact that 80% of those people go and interact with minors themselves. How come you say don’t interact and then you are the one to interact? And on your NSFW blog? At least make a SFW one. None of those people actually care about keeping minors “safe”, although it is a nice impression that you have about them. With the spreading of personal information, keeping minors that write smut secret and telling possible minors to not reveal their age so they can keep interacting with NSFW content, none of those people actually care about minors. They only care about their asses. But again, it is a nice impression you have of them.

Then they go on and say “some minors think theyre mature enough to handle that shit.... NO NO YOU ARE NOT” as if turning 18 magically makes you mature enough. It doesn’t. You still have the 17 years old mentality you had the day before your birthday. I am not saying that minors are mature enough to do that, but again, is anyone mature enough for the r@pe fics and unhealthy BDSM dynamics?

And because OP screamed in that next part, so will I. HOW ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO “GO READ SOME FLUFF OR ANGST” WHEN THE TAGS ARE FULL OF DAMN SMUT? FIRST HAVE SMUT WRITERS STOP TAGGING THEIR SMUT FICS IN THE FLUFF AND ANGST TAG AND THEN THEY WILL GO AND DO THAT TOO.

And this wasn’t planned, but we also have a bonus part. This is so exciting! They say “STOP TREATING STRAY KIDS + EVERY OTHER DAMN KPOP GROUP LIKE BABIES!” and I have been saying this for ages. And you know what I am about to say. However, doing any of the things mentioned in this post cannot be called infantilizing. Wishing that people wouldn’t sexualize or write problematic fiction about them is not babying. Getting uncomfortable when someone 10 years older than an idol has sexual fantasies about them is not babying. Stop acting as if people wishing that other people would stop pursuing disgusting behaviours is wrong.

And please “these grown men”. I almost laughed. The only man that can be called grown there is maybe Chan, but people from Hyunjin to Jeongin are definitely not grown. They are in the process of growing and becoming grown, but they aren’t grown. Of course, people are aware that they know about sex, but they shouldn’t have to deal with having r@pe fics written about them or having people much older thirst about them. And if you don’t agree with that, oh well, that’s sad.

[slothgiirl]

Nothing’s gonna take you from my side (mc x noah fic)

15k. in which mc deals with the fallout of redfield/jane all while reconnecting with the boy they thought they’d lost forever. should be gender neutral but @ me if i made a mistake.

warning for mental illness. 

happy spooky month. (i basically started playing choices again and that made me miss my boy noah marshall and here we are 48 hours later. pls dont let this flop

before.

You can't sleep with that tree outside your window. Still, out of the corner of your eye as you get ready to lie in bed awake until morning, you can still see Cody's dead body in the branches. And every single time it's a rush for the bathroom as bile rises in your throat.

It's five in the morning when you finally snap, grabbing the axe from your garage and sinking the blade into the tree trunk with a satisfying wack. You can't sleep. You're a newly minted adult but ever shadow in the night, in the dark, makes you jump.

You swing the axe again, with a closed mouth scream of animal desperation.

The precious few hours you are able to sleep are hardly enough: especially when shut eye equals nightmares for you. It's a mixture of Jane and the monster who turned out to be Jane in a goddamn tragedy and all the really fucked up things that didn't happen (everyone dying). You dream of the girl who was Jane. You dream of being stuck in the same way that Jane was, as you scream and scream and no one ever comes to help you and it's easy to see why your friend ended up as twisted, a poor version of herself, after being left alone to rot all those years.

And that makes you think of him.

You swing the axe even as the tears sting your eyes because it wasn't what everyone thought. Maybe. . .you can never find it in you to blame him for his actions, not when you understood-understand him so well. It was Jane. And in the end.

You leave the blade stuck in the tree trunk, not even halfway cut, as you cover your mouth with your hands and let out a grueling cry. It's an accumulation of living in fear for months: of the terror that seems to live in your mind even in the aftermath, even when the woods have been peaceful for months. Slumping into the ground, you hug your knees to your chest, still in pajamas, and let yourself cry. Again.

Sometimes it feels like crying is all you're capable of. It seems strange to keep on living when-it should've been you. He deserved to live, to be happy, to be more. . .

“Aw kid,” Cid says, walking up to you, cup of coffee in hand. “Let's get you inside.”

You nod shakily, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, before getting up, brushing the dirt off your legs.

Cid wraps an arm around you, giving you more care and attention then your parents have in years. No wonder you understood him so well. You should’ve reached out sooner. You should’ve never pulled away after Jane. . .

“Jesus kid, you’re freezing. How long have you been out here for?”

Shrugging, you utter, “I-I couldn’t sleep. . .the tree.” And fuck, even to your own ears you sound like a complete disaster. Where did the fire that had you charging into the woods for Andy go? You look at your reflection in the glass planes of the back door and see a teenager who looks more like a ghost then a real living person.

There’s dark shadows under your eyes that no amount of concealer could hide. You lips a harsh line across your mouth. And there was a haunted quality in your eyes that matched the photos of refugees fleeing war. It was PTSD as Lucas would say back when none of your friends could sleep through the night.

“I’ll call someone to get rid of the tree,” Cid offers, as he gently guides you up the stairs, “just try and get some sleep. How else are you gonna enjoy your last summer before college?”

You nod listlessly.

Before you can curl up in the guest bedroom, you stare out into the woods behind your house. But there’s no shadows congregating into a shadowy person. There’s no red eyes glowing from the treeline and you have to wonder if Ava’s right; if Noah really is. . .dead.

“Relax Lucas,” Stacy grins, “no one’s gonna know,” she says, taking her hand off the steering wheel to slap his arm.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “I didn’t even say anything.”

You’re sitting smushed in the back with Lily and Ava and Dan. Andy had physical therapy today, otherwise there would be even less space in the back seat. Though Stacey’s mom van is roomy enough.

“Then why do you look constipated,” Ava laughs, not looking up from her latest book on witchcraft.

“Ava!” Lily giggles besides you.

“Have you figured out what to do with Pritch’s house,” Lucas asks instead.

“Not really,” Ava admits, “it's a dope house but. ..” everyone sombers up, “I-I don’t really want to live that close to the woods, y’know.”

It’s lily that jolts you all out of the awkward mood. “Maybe you should’ve gone to a college out of state then,” she prods, “Didn’t you get into Washington University?”

Ava shrugs, “community college is way more fucking cheap though. We can’t all get a full ride to Berkeley.”

Lily blushes, but smiles proudly all the same.

You stare out the window as the woods thin out, as you drive further and further down the interstate and a bolt of panic enters your chest as you realize you’re leaving the woods behind. You wrap the jean jacket that isn’t yours more tightly around your chest. It’s summer. But there’s a chill in your bones that never seems to relent.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stacey teases, “Berkeley’s alright, but it’s no NYU.”

“Are you a big city girl now,” Ava teases her, finally shutting her book, “going to go meet your Mr. Big?”

“Since when do you watch sex in the city?”

“It’s Sex and the city actually,” Lucas corrects with a grin.

“We binged a couple of seasons at Andy’s house the other day. That Miranda lesbian episode was fucking gross though,” Ava adds.

“We’ve always lived in a small town,” Stacey explains, “and New York seems like a dream.”

“Pizza rat though,” Lily counters.

“Okay, you’ve got a point,” Stacey admits, “but it’ll be nice not being known as former Major Green’s daughter.”

“I thought you guys were working on it,” you speak up, slumped against the backseat.

“We are,” Stacey nods happily, “it’s not really my parents. It’s me too I guess. I hate when people act like that’s all I am. And I think it’ll be a great experience. I loved the campus when I visited.”

“I’m happy for you Stace,” Lucas says softly.

“Plus I’ll get to heckle Lucas around town!” Stacey says once again, taking her hand off the steering wheel to slap Lucas’ shoulder.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “You’re buying me McDonalds.”

“McDonalds sounds good,” Lily adds, “I could go for some nuggies before we hit up Ikea.”

“Nuggies,” Ava snorts as Stacey pulls up to the Mcdonalds across the street from Ikea.

“Do you not want nuggies,” Lily says arching a brow.

“Oh I want nuggies,” she replies shamelessly.

“What about you hon,” Stacey asks. There’s only one other car before you have to order but you’re not hungry. Your appetite seems to have vanished along with your sleep. Even getting rid of the tree hadn’t helped much. Currently you had taken to sleeping in the living room, but sleep was still hard to come by.

“I’m okay,” you answer, “maybe just a small coffee.”

Stacey glances over at Lucas, before fixing her concerned gaze on you. “You sure? We haven’t had anything to eat since we left.”

You wanted to say you hadn’t even had breakfast, but you don’t want her to get any more concerned then she already was. It had been six months and you were still fucked up. Meanwhile your friends had recovered. Maybe they weren’t at one hundred percent, but none of them were calling you crying at three in the morning. . .anymore. It was just you that couldn’t get over it.

And there was no one you could talk to.

They hadn’t been there at the end with him the way you had. They couldn’t understand. When you told them it was Jane and not Redfield, when you told them what Noah had sacrificed in the end, they couldn’t wrap their head around it. And they didn’t want to. They just wanted to move on.

But you couldn’t.

Some essential part of you was forever in the ruins, as if you’d never left that night at all.

And the only other person who could understand was there too.

Right?

He had to be.

The same way Jane had been.

It was a selfish wish, knowing how being tethered to the power could twist a person, but you couldn’t help it. It was Noah. If you were a better person, you’d wish he’d moved on like Jane, and maybe he had. Maybe that's why nothing had happened in the months since that night.

Dan slips his hand in yours, and squeezes.

You smile gently and try to focus on enjoying the day with your friends.

The woods seem strange without a monster lurking in the shadows.

You're not even that close: hadn't even stepped one foot in the woods since that night. When you'd emerged hysterically crying and covered in dirt, all banged up from Jane, uttering his name like a prayer for which no words exist and quickly been taken to the hospital, you were sure you'd never step foot in the woods again.

Andy told you days later that no one had been able to find the ruins after your friends. No one had recovered his body.

You swallow thickly, hands pressed into a fist at your sides. There might be nothing out there. But if there's any chance that he is-that he's alice in whatever shape or form, you can't live with yourself if you abandon him the same way you'd abandoned his sister.

Sure, you were kids. You hadn't known better with Jane. But you're 18 now. You won't repeat the same mistake twice.

“Noah,” you whisper, taking a step closer to the tree line on one of the roads into town. You couldn't be at home right now, not with the open house going on.

Nothing.

Not even the crack of leaves or a bird singing. Just eerie silence as though the power and woods were one and the same and without the monster lurking in the dark, the woods were less haunting: less magical.

“Noah,” you repeat, taking a step forward until your hand touches the bark of the nearest tree, still safely held in the daylight, “Noah, it's me. Are you out there?”

You sniffle as tears well up in your eyes because you don't know what to do if he's really gone. You barely knew what to do with him when he was alive, all the complicated feelings of love and loss between you made it too hard for you to think clearly when it came to him. You only knew you couldn't let him go. Not again.

Too bad.

He'd still. . .that night. . .

“I meant it,” you utter louder, “I'm not leaving you again Noah.” If he even remembered who he was. Jane hadn't always remembered. “Noah, please let me know you're still out there.” Your gaze flits about as you look around the woods hoping to see any sign of shadows pooling together or those burning red eyes.

But there's nothing.

You wrap your arms around your chest, lips pinched tightly because fuck maybe he really was gone and you should be happy he isn't a monster but it's Noah and you're selfish because you should hate him after what he'd done to Andy and the others and you but you can't and you just want him back but things are never going back to the way they were and maybe that's a good thing because before you hadn't spoken to Dan in years and you wouldn't have know where everyone was going to college but at least Noah was alive if not happy and-and-

-you're gasping for breath.

A panic attack.

The first time this happened, you hadn't known what to do. It had felt like dying, stuck in that chair unable to help your friends all over again. It had felt like a blow to the chest as Noah came to the cold hard realization that there wasn't much left of Jane in the monster.

It had been Dan who'd talked you through it. And you take deep breaths and try to calm down because you were going into the woods again.

Just not today.

Tires screech to a halt behind you as you try to compose yourself in the midst of tears, short choked breathes that leave you gasping, and you're always so fucking cold even in mid July. Your flannel and jean jacket do little to keep you warm.

“Hon,” Stacey calls out, running up next to you, before saying carefully, “what are you doing out here?”

“She's clearly not okay,” Connor sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, taking your other side. “Shit you're freezing.”

“I'm fine,” you reply tightly, voice cracking.

Stacey smiles sadly, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug, the kind of hug you've always wanted from your parents when they tell you everything's going to be alright and you actually believe them. “You're okay. They can't hurt you now.”

Connor looks back at his truck, emergency lights flashing, “we were going to get pizza, wanna come with us? It's family night.”

You hug Stacey right back, arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder, gazing out into the seemingly normal woods. “You guys do family night now?”

“We were going to make pizza,” Stacey mummers by your ear, “but we killed the yeast and the dough never rose.”

“So we're buying pizza now,” Connor adds with a laugh.

You nod, “if you think that's alright.”

“Of course it's alright,” Stacey responds right away, “you're always welcome at my house.”

Her words make you want to cry all over again. It's enough to tease the smallest of smiles out of your lips. “Sounds good.”

Her grip on you eases to match her brothers, one arm around your shoulder. You're flanked by the Green siblings: safe and sound.

They lead you back to Connor’s truck, gossiping about how Staceys moms still wondering if it's not too late for Stacey to major in economics and how leaving politics has actually made their family much better, but that might just be the family therapy they're all going to. “Mom also wanted to roadtrip to New York to drop Stacey off,” Connor grins, “s’ gonna be so embarrassing for you. Have your parents walk you to your first class.”

“Oh shut it you,” Stacey retorts, clicking her seat belt.

You glance back one last time at the woods and-

there, behind a dead tree, it's rotting husk is a bounty for all the decomposers and bugs that live in the woods, a pair of glowing blue eyes looking right at you. Your heart skips a beat as you place your hand on the window, whispering so softly, “Noah,” as Connor drives into town.

Neither sibling hears you.

“Are you sure you want to live here,” Andy says skeptically as Dan and Ava help you carry the boxes of things you'd decided to keep when you sold your old house. It had too many bad memories for you to sleep there. “It's-,”

Bound by the woods on three sides, the backyard merging with the woods of the small cottage from the 1930s, before the cookie cutter houses of the suburbs were built.

“It's got character,” Ava grins, tossing a box down in the hall. “Still can't believe your parents let you sell the house.”

“They really like Alaska,” you shrug. You weren't sure what part their research base was in. Were they even still in Alaska?

“I wish my parents let me move out already,” she rolls her eyes, “but no. If I'm staying for community college then I have to live with them.”

Andy sits on the couch, crutches resting on the wall next to him. “I still can't believe I have to repeat senior year.”

“At least we’re together,” Dan says shyly, taking care to put down the box he'd carried inside down and out of the way so no one will trip.

“And we don't have to worry about Redfield this time,” Ava adds.

Dan elbows her.

“What! I'm just saying!”

Andy rolls his eyes. “So you're back to being the scariest witch in town then?”

“Damn right I am,” Ava grins. “Check this out.” She sticks her hand out and even gets you to wander over to her. Ave glances at you all, making sure you're paying attention, before snapping her fingers.

Nothing happens.

“Um,” Andy's about to start.

Ava rolls her eyes, snapping her fingers once more.

This time, smoke wafts up from the space between her thumb and middle finger.

“Shit Ava,” Andy's eyes go wide. “Should we even be messing around with that again.”

“It's just magic,” Ava huffs.

You say nothing, wondering if Noah would show up now that you were closer to the woods. Closer to him.

He hadn't appeared since that day.

It was enough to make you wonder if you really were seeing things.

“Well whatever it was that,” Dan, swallows, “that power Pritch told you about. . .its still out there even if it's not. . .” he trails off as unsettled as Andy who had rapidly lost all color.

“No-no. It's gone,” Andy said, “right?”

“Ask them,” Ava nudges you with her arm, “you're the one that spends all your time staring at the woods.”

“I-ugh,” you stutter wondering what happened to leave you this much of a mess. You look in the mirror and wonder where the person who told off Cody and Britney for bullying your friends went.

“Ava,” Dan snaps. “leave them alone. Let's just-”

“Not talk about this,” Andy finishes.

“No one ever want to talk about it but it's right there,” Ava yells, pointing her hand out the window.

“I think it's gone dormant again,” you lie. “like before we found that place.”

“I hope so,” Andy mutters.

“I'll be fine here,” you reassure them. “I don't want to be afraid of the woods for the rest of my life.”

“Right,” Ava says with a pained smile. “Let's finish getting these boxes in so we can start watching what we do in the shadows.”

“Again,” Andy complains, “what's wrong with-”

“We're not watching spider-man again!” Dan groans.

“Spider-man is a trans icon,” Andy replies.

“The only acceptable spider-man is the 1st and 2nd movie with Tobey Mcguire,” Ava adds.

You giggle softly, “why can't we just watch both. It's not like we have school tomorrow.”

“Finally someone with a brain,” Dan smiles.

Noah tosses rocks into a lake, little pebbles he can't make skip.

You laugh, teasing him easily. “What a loser!” From your spot sitting on the lake edge.

He turns back towards you with a scowl that carries no real heat, “I’d like to see you do better.”

“You think I can't,” you retort easily, getting up and dusting the dirt and grass from your butt. You never did know when to back down from a challenge.

“I know you can't,” he grins.

“Asshole,” you bite back as he drops a few pebbles into your outstretched hand, warm from his touch, and doesn't that make your insides turn to mush.  

“Takes one to know one.”

You take a pebble into your hand and flick your wrist.

It sinks right where it lands.

“Motherfucker,” you curse as Noah breaks out into laughter, his wide brown eyes dancing with glee as you pout.

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you wave off, “best two out of three.”

“No,” Noah snips back, “you lost.”

You roll your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Alright alright but I don’t even know how to swim so it’s not really my fault.” You look around at the lake. It’s a beautiful sight, the woods on the other side of the shore like something right out of a painting.

“You don’t know how to swim,” Noah says without missing a beat, ready to keep on teasing you.

You shrug, “it’s not like I had a pool in my backyard.”

His expression falls, “yeah well,” he fiddles with his beanie, “mom filled it up not long after. . .”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, closing the distance between the two of you, and wrapping your arms around him in an easy hug because you knew that Noah could be weird about this sort of sudden affection.

“It’s fine.”

“Still.”

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek.

The gesture sends your heart beating like a hummingbird in your chest, the base of your throat burning with anticipation for something you’ve never let yourself think about because when had it ever been the right time for this. When had you ever had the time to think about the possibility you dared no name.

Noah’s brows furrow, “where are we?”

You frown, looking around without moving away from him. The feel of his hand against the skin of your cheek felt like the only thing anchoring you to this world. It made you feel real in a way that you’d stopped feeling like a part of the world ever since the terrors of your senior year had started. The shoreline looks beautiful as you gaze out at the lake and behind you there’s a small quaint town and you know this has something to do with Tom and Andy but you can’t remember what right now even as you bite your lip in thought.

Your gaze goes back to Noah, words dying on your parted lips when you meet his eyes. Gone are the warm brown irises that had given him the perfect puppy dog eyes as a child, able to slip out of trouble easily. Instead his eyes burn an electric blue because it’s not Noah anymore but the shadow monster and you flinch in fear, pulling away so fast you stumble, tripping over grass and then you’re falling into the lake.

You can’t swim.

You scream, arms flailing out trying desperately to catch yourself.

Noah-the monster-the monster that might be Noah, reaches out one shadowy limp, and then you’re underwater.

Plunged suddenly into ice water, you take a deep breath from the shock that fills your lungs with water and you kick your legs but they are stuck in something and the sunlights never seemed so far away.

You don’t want to drown.

You don’t want to die here.

“Noah,” you scream in the water. Because if it is Noah he’ll help you. He won’t let you die. He died to save you once after all and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that day. You hadn’t wanted to die but you hadn’t wanted him to die either. You had just wanted him.

You had just wanted the nightmare to end.

Gasping, drenching in sweat, you jolt up from the desk you’d fallen asleep on. Everyone’s packing up their things and leaving. The class is over and you’re shaking, looking around wildly as if you can conjure Noah up by sheer force of will.

He’d been in your dream.

Just like Andy a year ago.

It was real.

Noah was still out there and you had to find him before he lost his mind alone in the awful forest that you still hated. The leaves rustling outside your windows at night was enough to keep you from leaving your bed. The way the trees cast shadows meant you threw the trash away in the morning.

Noah was still out there and he needed you.

You don’t realize you’re crying until your English 101 Professor walks up to you, still sitting even as the next set of students start filling in.

“Do you think you can stand up,” he asks, peering down through his glasses. He’s an older man, beard gone white, short, with a bit of a belly like most middle aged people. Clad in corduroy, a white shirt, and a wool vest, he’s the very picture of what you imagine a professor to look like. Nothing like your biology professor who’d walked into class with sandals and a big tie dye piece of fabric that almost worked as a dress.

You nod, grabbing your notebook and hastily shoving it into your backpack, ignoring the searching stares of other students.

You follow your professor out the door, still shaking, shoving the hair that was sticking to your forehead, damp with sweat, out of your face. Your eyes flit around, searching for a boy you know isn’t there but if Jane sensed your distress with Cody then maybe Noah will sense yours.

“Sorry,” your professor says bashfully, “I still haven’t learned names, but are you alright? You look really shaken.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, all bundled up in a flannel, sweater, and jacket combo that helped ease the a/c that blasted the lecture room into arctic temperatures. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just had a nightmare.”

“Hope I wasn’t that bad,” the man chuckles, “it was only the first lecture.”

“No,” you try, “no, it’s not you. I’ve-I have a lot of nightmares. And I don’t get much sleep.”

“Because of the nightmares,” the man asks, and you wonder what you’re doing spilling your guts out to this stranger when you keep telling Andy that you’re good. You keep telling Dan that you’re getting enough sleep and no mom you were eating a big heart breakfast even though it was usually only cereal that turned to mush before you could finish it.

“Yeah,” you sigh, clutching onto the strap of your backpack. “I’ve just sort of been a mess. And,” your voice cracks, “it’s just me. For a while it was all of my friends but they got better and I feel like shit because I can’t move on and it’s been almost a year.” And there was the word vomit.

“I know it’s not much but,” your professor tries, “everyone heals at different lengths of time.”

“I think I’m late for class,” you suddenly realize, because you’d scheduled art history right after english so you wouldn’t have nothing to do on campus for over an hour.

“It’s just the first day,” he repeats.

“I should get going,” you tell him.

“Of course.”

“I’ll try not to fall asleep in your class.”

“How about you first try to get some sleep at home.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks, “yeah. No promises though.”

You’re painstakingly trying to make dinner that isn’t kraft mac and cheese or a frozen entree from trader joes. But you quickly learn that you don’t have a lot of the pantry staples. Like pepper, or bay leaves, and kraft mac and cheese was looking likelier by the minute. Who knew making pasta was so complicated.

At least you have salt for the pasta water, from the salt packets you’d collected over the course of the last month of take out. It was economical despite what Stacey had chastised you about the last time you’d facetimed. One takeout box worked as lunch and dinner.

Maybe Dan had a point.

You probably weren’t eating enough. All your jeans were a little loose now, but at least you were finally using the belt Ava had given you for your birthday so that you too could be “a bad bitch like me,” according to her.

At least the pasta sauce was easty, being from a can, all you had to do was heat it up.

There was enough daylight left, even as fall crept into the world, that you left the curtains open. It wasn’t like you were completely abandoned out here. You lived at the old house at the end of a street. And yeah, the woods surrounded your humble abode one three sides, but if you screamed, the neighbors would definitely hear.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be Cid running over to check on you anymore.

You finally finish making pasta, only to find you didn’t leave the pasta boiling for long enough. The noodles are still chewy but you power through it in the name of self care.

It’s not that bad. Really, for the first attempt. You’ll have to go grocery shopping for more than chips and lunchables though if you plan on cooking more in the future and fuck why does everything connect back to Noah.

Like a great student in the cast of the Lucas, you’ve already finished your assignments due tomorrow but only because yeah, Andy had sort of been right, living this close to the woods freaked you out at night but every single night, like tonight, you bundled yourself in an oversized sweater you might or might not have begged off Noah’s mom, and step into your backyard with a heavy duty flashlight because you know you saw him. He’s out there, and maybe Lucas and Lily had been right to leave far far away, but you couldn’t when Noah was stuck here forever.

He didn’t deserve that. He was just a messed up kid the same way you all were after having gone messing around in those ruins as kids.

You step into the chilly air in dollar tree flip flops that you’d bought when you’d all gone to drop Tom off at his new job by his university, the local one that Tom had sort of always wanted to go to because unlike you, he’d thought about college since junior year instead of waiting for the last quarter of high school to panic. Your feet still get dirt on them, but not as much as if you went out barefoot.

“Noah,” you utter as loud as you dare in the quiet of the evening.

You didn't fancy becoming the local neighborhood crazy lady though you were on your way there.

Maybe it could be you and Ava as the village witches.

Holding the flashlight loosely, the same one Noah had taken into the woods when you’d both gone to save Dan, you cry out, feeling more sure of yourself by the minute, “Noah, are you out there? I think I saw you but considering how many police officers thought I must've seen things back in-well that night, I could have just imagined you. But I didn't, did I?” You sigh, peering out into the dark. “Do you remember me Noah? I'm your friend and-I just want to know you're there. I miss you Noah.”

Nothing peers back at you.

Last year, you'd feared seeing something looking back at you from the trees. Now, you wish there was a monster lurking about. Your monster.

Your life had officially gone from an Ari Aster horror movie to a Guillermo Del Toro movie. But given the last months, you weren't surprised.

You bite your lip, taking one last look around the yard before turning back to go to bed. “Goodnight Noah.”

Even Ava would be concerned if she knew you were purposely trying to get the shadow monster creature that Noah now was to come. She was firmly on the Noah is a SOB club. Which you might have been in if you hadn't seen Noah in the last moments of his life.

If he hadn't ultimately saved both you and Jane. In the end.

If if if. Your entire life now centered around what ifs.

You kick the kitchen counters in frustration. “Fuck,” you yell, wishing you could fix things: feeling helpless and alone and this would probably be another night tossing and turning until sunrise.

The pan of pasta you'd made earlier clatter to the floor, tomato sauce spilling like blood on the tile floor.

You scream, the ice in your veins thawing for the first time in months only to give way to the familiar terror of knowing something was in here with you. Something was in your kitchen.

You turn, bracing yourself for disappointment.

A figure coalesces from the shadows in the middle of your kitchen--you'd walked right by it without out noticing--it's eerie blue eyes glittering like fireflies in the encroaching darkness of the twilight hours. It casts its shadow across the entire house, blotting out the lamplight from the hallway, from the patio lights.

Noah.

You don't think twice, because it's Noah. Doesn't matter what shape or form he takes, you'd know this boy anywhere. Maybe it was Jane or running into the woods alone together that had bonded you until you couldn't even accept the idea he might be gone when every fiber of your being knew he wasn't, but you know it's him.

You reach out towards the shadows, taking a step forward, “Noah,” you whisper gently, awed by the fact he was finally here. “I've missed you. I-I was scared I wouldn't see you again. That you didn't want to see me.”

The creature that is and isn't Noah tilts its head, and you wonder if he remembers you at all.

You take another step forward, full in the shadows reach, “Do you remember me Noah? I'm your. . .” Friends wasn't enough to cover the ocean currents of emotions that swept through you when it came to Noah. “You're Noah. And I promised I wouldn't leave you again and I mean to keep my promise.”  

Your outstretched hand hovers between you, putting the ball firmly in his court. You're close enough where you could just touch him, but you wait.

Finally, after holding your breath and listening to blood rush in your ears, Noah reaches out with his own hand-like shadow brushing like a cool breeze against your hand.

“Sss s-stay.”

You nod quickly, a smile forming in your lips, tears of joy in your eyes forming rivers down your cheeks. “I will. You don't have to be alone anymore Noah. Not ever.”

during.

Your painstakingly cut out all the different groceries on the flyers as well as adding in all the index cards of additional groceries that weren't on the flyers instead of finishing your calculus homework. You couldn't wait until you were done with math for life.

It was nice to sit on the floor if a little awkward as Noah hovered about. Sometimes it was a lot like talking to yourself.

“-So my english teacher, professor I mean, put me in touch with a company to do their social media since I'm good at english or whatever. You know, the one I told you saw me wake up from a nightmare. Which is nice since I could use a big girl job. I sent my very sparse resume this morning so I'm just waiting to hear back from them.” You start spreading out each card on the floor before curling up on the sofa.

“Okay Noah,” you gesture with a laugh because really what was your life that you were letting Noah who didn't even have a body decide your grocery list for the week. “Remember we want a pile.” You'd dubbed this monster motor skills practice much to Noah's annoyance.

His eyes flicker red and you can guess the look he's giving you.

“Oh shut up,” you laugh easily, “I have to have my fun somehow. We don't all get to knock food off the counter when you don't like it.” He didn't even eat and yet somehow your cooking skills were still offensive to him.

He laughs in an approximation of leaves rustling in the wind: leaves crunching under boots as you walked through the woods. Then, Noah finally starts grasping at the bits of paper in creative ways. Sometimes he conjures up a gust of wind which has vastly improved from blowing everything to just getting the right bit of paper onto the couch by your side. Occasionally he'll grasp at the paper which is a toss up if it'll actually work. Then there the good old vanishing and reappearing which is the most taxing but fun to watch.

“I see you think we have that adult money,” you grown as he goes for the wagyu beef. “I'm going to have to stop letting you watch worth it when I'm in class.”

Noah grumbles, before sending a pillow your way.

Another headshot.

“Don't be a dick.”

“Sss o rry,” Noah says, not meaning it even a tiny bit.

You dissolve into laughter because honestly what was your life that this was how you spent your days. With Noah. With your monster.

It takes another hour but you finally have your list. “I'm not making lasagna. Baked ziti is easier.”

Noah sends a burst of wind your way.

“Shut up I’m not lazy. Cooking is just so long! You have to cut all these things and lasagna means boiling so many noodles without tearing them and I always feel like I'm wasting salt by seasoning the water.” You ramble on as you copy down the homework answers for your math work from Slader.

“Las yyya.”

“Ziti,” you counter, refusing to budge. “Maybe art history could be my major but I think I like the writing part of english the most, but I wouldn't want to be an english teacher.”

“Lasss a ya.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes, “I won't change the subject but the answer’s still ziti.”

If he could, you imagine Noah would roll his eyes as he settles down on the couch in front of you. You sitting criss cross applesauce on the couch with your laptop and notebook.

Noah reaches his hand out and you no longer flinch at the cool touch of shadow that obscure everything. Like a black void, not cold or warm. His touch is the closest thing to warmth you've felt since that night and maybe something inside of you was permanently broken if you couldn't get warm.

His hand against yours, hovering in the air because he wasn't corporal enough to hold your hand and fuck your heart aches at the thought that this is as good as it gets. That your growing pile of research into folklore and the occult that you hid from Ava wouldn't fix this. That you couldn't bring Noah back to.  . .back to himself.

Someone knocks on the door.

It must be Dan.

Noah rises like the moon in the night sky, smothering out the light pouring in from the windows, eyes flashing red.

You roll your eyes. Men. “It's just Dan. He's a friend. Your friend too. Remember I told you about our friends?”

Noah tilts his head. “fr iendssss?”

“Yeah. Friends,” you concur, tucking your hair behind your ears as you close your computer. “Now go. I'll be back tonight.”

“Noah ahhh lone.”

You shake your head having gone through this a hundred times before. “Don't be so melodramatic Noah. I'm going to the grocery store and mooching off Dan's car, ‘s not like I'm going to the moon.”

Within the span of a blink, he's gone.

You open the door to Dan’s cheery face. “So High school still sucks. I should've done online homeschool.”

“Well don't tell Ava that. She'll never let you live it down,” you comment.

Dan shrugs. “It's nice having Andy though. And you two.”

“Ah yes, us,” you tease, “the village weirdos.”

“It's good to see you laughing again,” Dan comments without judgement. “You looked rough all summer.”

You bite your lip, thinking his words over. “Yeah. It’s. . .Its nice to feel like a real living person again.”

“Did you go to therapy like Stacey said,” Dan asks.

You shake your head. “I stopped looking back.” Which was almost the whole truth. You'd stopped looking back because Noah was here with you now.

Deciding to change the subject because you hated lying to your friend, you ask, “did Ava say what our halloween plans are this year?”

Dan nods, letting it go, “Rocky Horror Picture Show plus lots of booze. Her words, not mine.”

“Andy shot down the cemetery idea?”

“Tom was the winning argument,” Dan confesses. “Called getting drunk at the cemetery too pedestrian.”

You laugh so hard your shoulders shake. “Fucking Tom, man. Yeah I wasn't looking forward to sneaking into a cemetery either.” You hated the idea of Noah having a gravestone when he was still alive and kicking. Your major annoyance of a roommate.

“Thank god for theater then,” Dan says with a smile as you pull into town.

It's springtime in your dream. The flowers are brighter and more fragrant than any wildflower bloom you'd seen with your real walking eyes. Even as the rain pours gently in a scene that would never exist in the same perfection in real life.

You're in the same opening in the woods that you'd found Dan in. A place you hadn't ventured since.

Noah sits, back against a tree truck, as close to flesh and blood as he could get nowadays.

Without hesitation, you run to him, “Noah,” you cry out in joy.  

His disarmingly warm brown eyes meet yours, brimming with the same joy you feel bubbling up from the tips of your toes all the way to your lips where you're smiling so hard it hurts. “Sup.”

You giggle, sitting down next to him, “I see you finally learned to talk.”

He rolls his eyes, before he wraps his arms around you and hugs you against his chest. “Is this real? Or just a dream.”

“Funny,” you whisper back softly, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

You're missing him the moment he lets you go, pulling back. His shoulder still resting against yours as if you're two trees leaning against each other for support, too intertwined to separate now.

Noah studies you carefully, without any shame, with his own features for once. He looks at you with a kind of heart wrenching earnestness that you can't bear to see for this long without reaching for him but you don't dare.

You look away, the hollow of your mouth filling with emotion. You don't know what to do with it.

You hug your knees to your chest, lapsing into silence.

He brings his hand up to your cheek, causing you to wordlessly lean into his touch, a bone deep need that would send you into his arms even knowing that he'd led you and all your friends into a trap. Even then, you'd still follow him down to the ruins.

“I'm sorry,” he finally manages, his hand cool against your skin like his shadow form. And for once, in this dream, you're not shivering with cold.

“If you had told me,” you utter gently, “about Jane, I would've helped you.”

“Well I know that now,” Noah states bitterly, his thumb caressing your hallowed cheek. It seemed like months of barely eating had taken their toll on you after all. And while you were now making the effort to eat, you still weren't at your natural weight.

You smile tightly, wishing like you knew he was, that things had gone different somewhere along the line: that you had more than just dreams and a shadow. You wish you had the boy you missed even if he was a dick sometimes. You wish you could act on the feelings that had only grown even with Noah in his current state.

“Where did your chipmunk cheeks go,” he suddenly teases, steering the conversation away from becoming a sob fest on your end. Maybe his too. You weren't sure.

You scowl, but don't pull out of his hold, feelings incredibly relaxed with him. “Don't-”

He smiles a shit eating grin, mischief twinkling in his chestnut eyes, “is it because you can't cook?”

“You're such a dick,” you utter with a disbelieving laugh, even as you shove his shoulder roughly, breaking whatever heavy tension had weld up between the two of you.

“Oh and you're a fucking angel now are you,” he retorts.

“Well excuse me for forgetting which jar of white stuff was the sugar and which was the salt! I was just trying to be cute!”

Noah doesn't relent, “and which was the jar of coke.”

You roll your eyes. “You've got to ratatouille me if we're ever going to get anywhere in the kitchen.”

“God I love that movie,” Noah says with a fond smile on his face that softens his entire features up. When he smiles like that, he's heartbreakingly handsome that you can't look away, caught in his gravitational pull and fuck you don't stand a chance.

“Me too.” You agree. “We should watch it tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Noah says, puffing up his chest and sitting up straight as he holds his hand out.

You shake on it, before you both burst out laughing.

For the first time in months, you have to force yourself to wake up.

You're making pancakes for lunch. Nothing fancy, a box mix much too Noah's annoyance. You were in the mood for them and you had a mix so it was a total no brainer.

Noah's in the woods somewhere. He's yet to drag you in too deep, having quickly realized that you were still fucked up about venturing into the woods even with the biggest baddest monster around as your best friend. You can sense him out there even from your downsized house which was homier than your actual house ever was.

It's been over a year.

You think you're making a lot of progress.

You sleep through the night. You turn the lights off. And you don't flinch at the sound of random large noises.

Lucas even talked about visiting for the summer.

Progress.

It's a saturday morning and you only have an hour or two of work to get through, mostly email correspondence. Working from home was unexpected, but it saved you from dealing with customers. You got enough horror stories from your friends. You've got most of the day to spend with Noah and you're starting to feel like you should take him up on a walk through the woods.

Someone knocks on your door.

You aren't expecting anyone.

You swallow, reminding yourself that nothing was haunting you now. There was no monster waiting to kill you anymore. And monsters don't knock.

They knock again.

You brace yourself, before peering though the peephole.

It was just Tom and someone you'd never met before. Just Tom.

You open the door. “Hey Tom,” you say friendly enough, remembering to smile and act like a real human being instead of the heavily traumatized teenager you still were.

His own face is a grim mirror image of yours only a few months ago. All dead eyes and hallowed out. “I,” he looks at the friend he's brought along, “We have a problem. Like the one that happened here.”

Your stomach drops and you can only think Noah, as the ice in your veins ratchets up and you feel frozen in place.

Tom continues on, caught up in his own terror, “I already texted the others. I-I didn't know who else to ask.”

You feel yourself nod in some strange out of body experience which finds you sitting on your sofa.

“I smell something burning,” Tom's friend asks, clearing wondering if you're going to get up, but that seems like an impossible task as you think and think yourself into a black hole of misery.

What now.

Someone must've turned off the pancakes at some point you think as your friends still in town fill your house even as you sit on your sofa, a little ball of self amplifying panic that fills your chest and you're so so cold. It's summer again. A hot 89 degrees Fahrenheit and you're wearing a hoodie that's long lost Noah's scent.

You pull the sleeves down over your hands as Dan takes a seat next to you.

Ava has a thick three inch black binder of occult lore ready to go even as Andy jokes about Ava having finally achieved her lifelong dream.

It doesn't take long for the smiles to fade as Tom’s friend goes over ��their situation and yeah. . .it sounds like a monster. Like Jane. Like Noah.

A monster in a lake.

It made sense.

What was a forest without something lurking among the trees. What was a lake without something hidden in its depths.

“I can't swim,” you utter the same words you'd told Noah months ago. It hadn't been a dream then anymore than your usual nights were. The only time that you and Noah saw each other as close to normal as possible.

You'd missed the quirk of his mouth as he laughed, the corners of his eyes all scrunched up.

Tom forces a smile for your benefit. “When we get rid of this thing you guys should come over for a swim.”

“Hell yeah,” Andy chimes in, patting your knee, “I can teach you to swim.”

You shake your head. “That's not what I meant. I-,” you glance at all the faces staring at you, waiting. You take a deep breath, your heartbeat slowing down as you sense Noah draw near. You hug your arms to your chest, always cold. “I had a dream about a lake, a couple months ago. I drowned. . .something drowned me.”

Dan inhales sharply, staring intently at his shoes.

“You think it's got something to do with the power,” Andy asks out loud.

“It has to be connected dude,” Tom says with a nod. “If they're sensing it from here.”

“It is only on the other side of the woods,” Ava points out, looking over at you with a frown.

Noah's inpatient. You can sense him pacing around the tree line behind your house. Your anxiety must’ve worried him.

You make the tough call. “Guys,” you stand up, moving towards the back door. “I have something to show you.”

They follow you out without a thought, everyone reeling from their own trauma as Ava and Tom bounce ideas off each other. Toms friend. . .you hadn't caught a name, looks just as shaken as you used to feel every day.

You force yourself to look at the trees. “Noah,” you reach a hand out, “it's okay. They're friends. You can come out.”

Ava's face immediately tenses, shooting you a dark look that means you are definitely having amping talk with her later. Right, she was part of club Noah was a rat faced liar.

Tree branches rustle and you smile as you spot a cluster of shadows in the split second before they form a humanoid body.

“Oh jeez,” Andy says painfully, wincing as Noah emerges into your backyard, eyes a sparkling blue of a lightning bolt.

You draw your hand back to your chest, imagine the way he'd held it in the dream, and that he couldn't in life.

“Friend ss!”

Dan jumps back a good two feet. Tom's gaze flits between you and Noah, before deciding to focus on Noah.

His friend utters, “is-are we safe?”

“Yeah Noah,” you reply ignoring her, “they're friends. They have their own not so friendly scooby doo monster they need help with. Remember Tom.”

Noah nods, “bass ket ball….Andy!”

“I'm sorry,” Ava cuts in sharply, glaring at you. “How long has this been going on for exactly?”

Noah looks at you, and you don't know if it's sheepish or if it's, you want me to get rid of them, so you cut in. “It doesn't matter. This,” you say, waving at Noah, “is help isn't it?”

“She has a point,” Tom utters with a shrug.

“Sssss orry Ava,” Noah utters loud enough to scare off the birds that had been standing on the utility pole.

Ava blinks, clearly thrown for a loop. And then decides to let it go for now, “Fine, fine but don't blame me when the shadow monster kills us all.”

“Which shadow monster,” Dan points out because now there were two. But one was Noah and he'd never hurt anyone. You knew that for a fact the same way you knew that Noah would capitulate to playing fear factor tea party even though he found worms disgusting as a kid.  

“We have the worst luck,” Andy groans.

Tom's friend shrugs, “I'll take all the help I can get.”

You look back over at Noah, who's at least trying, by shrinking himself down to almost human sized. “Behave.” You say teasingly, wagging a finger and everything.

Noah's eyes flash red which sends them all a step back. “Yessss mom,” he croaks back in the most teenage angst tone of voice that has you thinking you might just lift the my chemical romance ban for the week.

“You're such a dick,” you snip back with a laugh. You catch Andy's gaze, his expression funny as he looks at you, but says nothing.

Ava rounds on you as soon as Noah and the others are gone. You can sense him getting further and further away and your gut turns because what if he never comes back. “When the hell were you going to tell us about that thing!”

“It's Noah,” you protest with a whine.

Andy scowls angrily, “that's not Noah. And even if it was he tried to kill us, or don't you remember?”

You flinch because yeah. There wasn't exactly much you could say on that front.

“He was trying to help Jane,” you speak up, trying anyway.

“Ugh,” Ava groans, punching her nose bridge, “that was never Jane and it's not Noah. It's a monster. Get that through your head.”

You curl up into yourself.

“Guys,” Dan tries to speak up, but Ava is on a roll.

“It could have killed you,” she shouts, voice breaking.

“Noah wouldn't-” you protest, trying to get them to understand, but your limbs are heavy. Your cold and all you want to do is curl up in bed until he gets back.

“Noah tried to kill us,” Andy reiterates.

Which has you back to square one, “because he was trying to save Jane! He didn't know she was going to kill us and it doesn't matter because he died for me in the end,” you snap back just as pissed off.

“It wasn't Jane,” Ava says waving her arms aggressively.

“How else would she have known about the whistle?”

“Because Noah told Redfield!”

You shake your head. “You were there. You saw her cross out Redfield,” you tell the three of them. “And I was there at the end. Noah chose to die so Jane could finally be free. He died so I got to leave that place.” A violent shiver runs down your spine.

Andy draws back. You hadn't said a word of what transpired after you were left alone with the Marshall twins, it had seemed to be a private and intimate matter.

“So yeah,” you finish, “maybe he did lure us down there, but he also died to keep any of us from dying. You don't have to forgive him but he's lord fucking voldemort or sauron.”

Dan looks at you with pity.

You all sit down in an angry cloud of silence that buzzes and pricks at your thoughts. This was exactly why you hadn't told them.

“At least you finally found your spunk again,” Ava offers after a few minutes.

You ignore her.

She rolls her eyes, looking through her supernatural research.

“How long,” Dan ventures to ask.

The others are listening. They don't look at you but they straighten up on the couch.

For once you're glad not everyone is here. Stacey was relentless and Lucas never would never stop going at it even when he'd made his point. Lily might understand, but she'd still be hurt.

“Since last fall,” you admit.

Dan nods as though he had guessed as much, “when you started getting better.”

You nod. “Noah doesn't let me eat frozen meals or takeout all week.”

“Oh fuck,” Ava swears, “it really is Noah.”

You pull the fleece blanket that's usually somewhere in the living room over your shoulders to try and warm up, a useless exercise, you knew that by now but it didn't stop you. Not when your joints hurt from the cold. You couldn't wait until Noah got back.

“You know it's 93 degrees out right,” Andy says lightly.

“Yeah,” you shrug shamelessly, “I'm freezing though.”

Ava tilts her head in thought.

“Yeah, I'll say,” Andy replies, “you're not even sweating in this heat.”

“He's-he's never hurt you, not even by accident,” Dan asks gently.

“No-god no,” you answer honestly. “He's-well he's got okay control now. He did ruin a couple light bulbs but he's. . .he’s never forgotten he's Noah so no he wouldn't hurt me.”

“I hope for your sake you're right,” Andy mutters darkly. “You're the one playing house with a shadow monster.”

You slump into the couch as your cheeks burn. You can't make yourself look at any of them because Andy's words hit closer to home then you would like.

This was probably as good as it was going to get for you and Noah. There was no first kiss, no holding hands or. . .there was just the hours you slept in bed and your own monster who kept you cool if not warm.

And even with that realization, you'd still choose him.

Wasn't that what love is?

after.

“I can't believe you went on a dumb ghost adventure without me and unlocked a whole new skill,” you complain while sipping on your match latte that you'd bought that little electric thing for specifically.

Noah does jazz hands with a deadpan expression on his face that makes the action even more surreal, now semi transparent and glowing a ghostly blue but at least looking like himself.

You'd both been binge watching danny phantom for ideas.

You were coming up on the second year of community college and it was time to think about transferring. . .to the nearest university because Noah was pretty much bound to these woods. And there was no way in hell you were leaving him. So there was one choice.

This morning you really only had to select your next fall semester classes. But first, spotify. You needed some jams to get you through the morning.

“At least there’s something to be said for being a ghost monster thing,” Noah shrugs, sitting down on the floor, attempting to turn the page on a book you’d left open last night, too exhausted to clean up. His hand passes right through the pages.

“Noah,” you complain weakly because boy oh boy did this boy say the saddest things sometimes and it sucked you couldn’t actually hug him because you had the feeling that your words didn’t always stick. It was clear that Noah didn’t always believe you when you said your plethora of comforting words in place of hugging him until he realized just how much he meant to you.

He looks up at you from the floor with an easy smile. “Yeah?”

And you roll your eyes. Joking about it was good. Your therapist had said it wouldn’t always be as bad as it had been that first week when you’d been practically catatonic in the hospital. “How does tame impala sound,” you ask him because manners. It’s not like he could change the music, and you never wanted him to feel left out just because he wasn’t solid enough to affect the material world.

“I’m not listening to elephant for two hours.”

“Hey,” you yelp, “sometimes I listen to let it happen.”

He sneers, “still not listening to the same two songs on replay.”

“Who listens to an entire album all the way through,” you complain. “Fine, what do you want to listen to? And it can’t be angsty. I want to have a nice morning.”

“Oh come one,” Noah laughs, “Evanescence is unmatched.”

You scrunch your mouth in thought even as you bob your head in agreement. “It does have to be good to be meme worthy. But also, like what emo preteen didn’t have a big fat crush on Amy Lee.”

“I remember you being obsessed with daredevil,” Noah reminisces.

“Hey,” you point out, looking up from the list of classes, “I was obsessed with elektra. Get your facts straight.”

Noah laughs, floating up to sit by you on the couch because he might look like he used too but he was still more ghost than living breathing person, “like that makes it better.”

You smile nostalgically, your knees bouncing with delight as you abandoned the pretense of school to talk with Noah: an easy choice. “You remember when me and Jane would pretend to be elektra and catwoman?”

He snorts, shaking his head with amusement, hands resting on his knees even as he leans in closer to you, “I remember you two would chase me around the house with a stick.”

“It was a knife man,” you say between laughs, “you’ve got to use,” you raise your hands to mimic spongebob, creating a rainbow shape, “you’re imagination.”

He brushes strands of auburn hair from his eyes, and the action strikes a chord in your heart that makes you wish more than anything you could reach out and touch him.

But he’s intangible.

You shove that thought down, focusing instead of enjoying this moment with him. “How about Florence and the Machine?”

“Why are you always shooting down my ideas,” Noah huffs, smiling too softly as he gazes at you to truly be hurt or annoyed.

“You made us listen to Nickelback last time!”

He shrugs shamelessly, “Nickelback is unmatched performance art. And I stand by that statement.”

You shake your head, wracked with laughter until you feel pinpricks of tears in your eyes because this boy! It always came back to Noah and how easily he was able to tease a lightness out of you that you thought you’d lost forever after the night of the school dance.

“Gorillaz?”

He hums in thought, “Demon days.”

You scroll through spotify easily enough. That album was among your top played.

You keep the volume low because you are a certified adult and it's morning and you don’t want a racket this early in the morning. Well, noon, but that was early for you. Okay, so you were only sort of an adult, but you could make pasta without burning anything so baby steps.

“Hey,” Noah asks gently.

You look up, only to find him having shifted closer to you. If Noah could breathe, you’d no doubt be able to feel the warmth of his breath, but you’ll settle for his soothing presence that takes the sting from your perpetual chill. He’s leaning forward and his hand hovers above the skin of your cheek and you don’t dare to lean into his touch no matter how much you yearn to feel the touch of his skin that you know you won’t get because he’s not tangible.

So you lock eyes with him, holding your breath, gut clenching in anticipation.

Noah parts his lips as if to speak, but utters nothing. He closes his mouth again, letting the silence press on.

It might all be in your head, but you swear you can feel the warmth of his hand against your skin. His thumb rubs circles you can’t feel against your cheek.

He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, a sigh escaping your lips at the close contact. There’s a deep well of longing for more than can ever be possible between you and Noah at the base of your throat.

It’s easy to forget, but Noah’s dead.

He died and he’s here but not in the same way you’re part of this world.

A breeze passes over the swell of your mouth, and you slowly open your eyes, heart lodged in your throat.

Noah’s shifted his hold down to your jaw, sitting up on his knees as he leans towards you like a sunflower grows towards the sun, his thumb brushing over your mouth. And you wish more than anything that you could kiss him.

It’s always strange to look into his eyes, expecting a soft hazelnut hue, and seeing an inhuman vibrant blue of an electrical shortage.

“I’m glad it's you,” Noah whispers softly, his voice as gentle as a summer breeze.

It’s enough to break your heart all over again. “I’m just happy you’re here,” you say, painfully aware of the tears forming in your eyes. He was the choice you made over and over again because you’d take whatever Noah had to offer.

“If-,” he utters carefully, “if I could, I would kiss you right now.”

“I’d let you.”

His eyes reflect the same heart wrenching pain of knowing that anything more between you two just wasn’t in the cards.

You summoned the courage to lift your hand to cup his jaw, mindful to hover just over the space where his body should be, guided by the spectral blue outline. There’s nothing but air under your fingers.

Noah, forever out of your reach.

There’s a reason you try not to think about this situation too hard.

There’s no happy ending to be found here.

One second, Noah’s intertwined with you.

Within the span of a blink, he’s gone.

Disappeared.

Right, he’s a ghost, he can do that.

You walk through a trail behind your house. The suns still high in the sky and the anxiety is manageable with Noah goofing off along with you as you complain about having to take biology as a english major and the fact no one in your group for political science did any work but you and this international student from Malaysia which you couldn’t point to if someone held a gun to your head. The dumb american sterotype held true for you when it came to geography.

The woods don’t seem as menacing anymore.

“Malaysia’s in southeast asia,” Noah offers.

“How do you know that?”

Noah shrugs, “I wanted to travel. Go anywhere but Westchester.”

You frown. He’d never get to leave now. “Really? I just wanted to go to disney world,” you reply because it was true and you knew it would make him laugh.

He snorts, shaking his head, “you’re so basic.”

“Shut up!” You cry out, smiling easily. “My parents had a conference in disneyworld one year. And after that Disney would send us vacation information and videos back when VHS and DVDs were a thing. It just seemed. . .I know it's a tourist trap but everyone seemed really happy and I’d wanted the videos a lot on the weekends.” You admit, looking down at your sneakers. It seems silly when Noah knows what your family is like, what your perpetually absent parents are like, but you still feel a sense of shame at admitting that your parents never prioritized you.

They were more than happy to have you spend the night with Noah and Jane if that meant not having to take care of you, back when they still flew back to Westchester.

“Disney in Japan’s better,” Noah quips, “and you don’t even have to step foot in florida to go there.”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “because we live somewhere better than florida.”

“Much better,” he teases, “we don't have humidity.”

You snort, shaking your head as you continue down the well worn trail.

“Did-can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you tell him, looking back, and waiting for him to catch up.

Noah floats in front of you, only an inch or two of the ground but it’s fine because no one really goes into the woods here as if there’s some subconscious warning ringing in the prey part of the townspeople’s minds, keeping them away from here. “Did your parents come to your graduation?”

You purse your lips. “No.” And then proceed to make the age old excuses for them. Parent-teacher conference week with your current nanny had been fun. “They were doing research up in Alaska I think. It was the only time of the year for some fish species. . .And Now I don’t really need them.” You think they’re in Antarctica, but you can never be sure. They're very hands off and don’t call except for christmas trusting that if you need anything, you’d call them.

Noah’s eyes flash red, and for a second, he loses control over his appearance. He’s an angry storm of shadows.

It speaks to the fact that for over a year now, he’s been your main companion that you don’t even flinch, just wait for him to calm down.

“It’s whatever,” you shrug, used to being on your own, “I had our whole group and Ava invited me along to her graduation potluck.”

“It’s not whatever,” Noah snarls, having regained his spectral blue form complete with his signature beanie. “They’re your parents.” His outburst sends the birds flying out of the trees, far away from him.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “we don’t exactly have great parents.” Noah’s had been okay if tense before the accident with Jane.

Noah frowns deeply, still seething. When he got into a mood, he could spend days mulling it over, working himself into a whole downward spiral of dark thoughts.

You leave him to his brooding as you make your way back to your house, hands in your jacket pocket: your old leather jacket for once. You knew what to expect from your parents and that was an allowance and a phone call at christmas. Not even almost dying had caused them to fly home and check on you.

The backdoor is open.

You know you'd closed it when you left. Having your own personal ghost hadn't made you sloppy.

You share a glance with Noah before calling out. “Hello?” It could just be Ava pulling a mean prank on you, but she had blatantly refused to come to your house as long as Noah was lingering around. It was a pointless stance when Noah could really wander freely around Westchester and often did. You sensed him around town sometimes when you were in class even if you couldn't see him.

“Oh you're finally back,” Lily says, calling out from your kitchen.

Wait, Lily! Wasn't she supposed to be in California?

“I told you we should've let them know,” Stacey cries out from inside, shrill voice carrying.

Oh! Were they all here.

You step inside excitedly, Noah following suit, still scowling.

He'd eventually get over the thing with your parents. You had.

“What are you all doing here,” you ask, taking in the sight of your friends spread out in your house. It was a tighter fit than your childhood home, but it felt more like a home than that house ever had. Even Toms here on the couch exchanging notes with Ava.

“Friendsgiving,” Lily offers.

You'd forgotten that's why you had the week off from school. It had slipped your mind after years of not doing anything for this holiday. “I thought we were against Thanksgiving?” You feel touched and surprised and happy.

“Oh we are. It's all a bunch of government propaganda,” Lucas says pushing his glasses up, “but we're all in town for the week so. . .”

You smile.

And then Stacey spots Noah lingering by the backdoor.

“You,” she yells, her entire face flushing red.

Noah, who's dick-ish tendencies you're well aware of, proceeds to smirk which only pisses Stacey off more and has Lucas rising to his feet, fueled by the same anger as Stacey. “Me,” he smirks.

Stacey lobs the nearest thing she can find, a plate you'd bought at Ikea a year ago, at him.

Ava looks really pleased with herself.

Noah dodges even though it would've gone right through him.

The plate shatters against the doorframe.

He totally could've caught that. He could've saved your plate.

“Missed Stace,” Noah cackles.

Your friend turns even redder, before grabbing the vase on the table and aiming for Noah once again.

Ava smothers a laugh on the couch.

Lucas is starting to look like he wants in on the action.

Lily looks uncomfortable in the middle of the action. Like she's rather not deal with it which has been your friends m.o. for the last few months. They don't ask about Noah's and you don't bring him up. It'll save Andy an ulcer in the long run.

The vase shatters as it hits the wall, Noah having stepped out of the way in time.

Stacey eyes your favorite black mug emblazoned the sanderson sisters museum, and you know you have to step in.

She's hoisting the mug trying to get a clean shot, not caring that she just spilled half a mug full of water on your floor, when you step in between her and Noah. “Stacey, you're never going to hit him!”

“I don't care,” she snarls furiously. “He tried to kill us!”

“He didn't know,” you defend Noah. Because saying it's been two years wouldn't work. You can't force anyone to forgive him.

“You can't be serious,” Lucas says shaking his head. “After what he did.”

“He was just trying to help Jane. It's not his fault that the power corrupted his sister to the point she would try to kill us!” In the late sleepless nights, you'd thought about Jane and finally gotten that ghost to rest. What else had there been to think about alone and sobbing in the dead of the night, curled up like a bear hibernating for winter.

“I can't believe you're defending him!” Stacey yells.

You cross your arms over your chest, staring her down.

Lily tilts her head, glancing behind you at Noah, “I didn't know you could look like. . .you.”

“Yeah,” he deadpans, raising his arms to do jazz hands. “Ta-da.”

“It's a new development,” you offer through clenched teeth, still busy staring down Lucas and Stacey, who still has your mug in her hand.

“He learned it from our lake monster,” Tom adds, looking through your vinyls. “Man you've got to get some older stuff and not just what urban outfitter’s selling.”

You frown. “What's wrong with Lana Del Rey?”

“You just need more variety,” Tom councils.

“I told you,” Noah says with an annoyingly charming smirk. He pats your shoulder with his hand even though it goes right through the layers of clothes that you're bundled up in.

You roll your eyes.

“No,” Lucas says, head in his hands, “we’re not doing this. We’re not acting like everything's fine,” he manages through a clenched jaw.

You raise a brow at your friends. Stacey’s still visibly pissed. Ava has her own arms crossed over her chest, but resigned since she's had more time to process. Andy's sneaking a slice of pumpkin pie as the drama unfolds.

Lily won't meet your gaze.

Dan looks like he wants to speak up, but he doesn't and you understand because it's a lot to forgive let alone forget for long enough to sit down to a friendsgiving when Noah can't even eat food anymore and instead goes around pestering you to make meals from scratch.

“It's fine,” Noah says quietly. “I can just go.”

“You do that,” Stacey replies bitingly.

“Noah you-,” you turn to protest. But he's gone.

You swallow your words, looking at your friends. “So are we making or just reheating,” because you love your friends as much as you love Noah. It's why it feels like your heart’s being torn in half.

“A bit of both,” Tom says, “nothing complex.”

“Britney said she's on her way now,” Lily adds. “hope you don't mind. She's bringing Jocelyn since Jocelyn's friends with Tom.”

Your eye twitches. It's unfair that they can have you the two girls who bullied you all for years to the point you got bruises and Lily would skip class to cry in the bathroom but you can't have Noah here when he only tried to kill you all once on accident.

“We might have to use my desk chair and the couch but I think we can make it work,” you say instead of picking a fight.

Lily smiles happily and tells you about these cute turkey plates she got from the 99 cent store at the beginning of the month.

Britney's making you all watch Legally Blonde which no one is really mad about.

You've gotten a thick wool blanket because you're starting to shiver with cold and it's not even 11 at night but you're ready to kick them out so Noah'll come back. You're squished in between Tom and Ava which means they spend the entire time talking your ear off about the power and Ava's current witchcraft project which involves lots of dirt, salt, and herbal oils. They lose you and you're not sure what the spell’s supposed to do but Ava does conjure an actual flame from her fingertip.

Dans laughing easily, sitting on the ground by your feet, with Andy and Jocelyn, who's still bitchy but in a more affable way that gets a laugh out of you.

It's a nice night, one of the best you've had in a while with all your friends and now their friends too and you think that it would be easy to be friends for life. It's been two years since that school dance night. You've all kept touch.

But it's just not the same without Noah.

You're probably the only one who thinks that.

The dream is easy to get lost in. You and Noah throwing popcorn at each other instead of paying attention in the dream movie theater. Every time you look up at the screens there's a different movie playing.

At least here Noah is tangible, the popcorn he throws getting tangled in your hair even as you slump in your seat to try and dodge the attacks.

Noah grins mischievously and you don't have time to move before he's dumping the entire bucket of popcorn on your head.

“You're such a dick,” you laugh, beginning the long work of getting popcorn out of your hair. They don't stick in Noah's brown locks.

“It's a dream,” Noah notes, “just imagine them away.”

“Okay,” you try, shutting your eyes and imagining your hair a lavender purple shade.

You open your eyes and sure enough the popcorns gone. “Kind of digging how dreams work.”

“There's some nice things about them,” Noah agrees.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Like this,” Noah grins smugly before leaning in and-

“Get up,” Ava snaps gleefully, as she pounces on you in bed.

“Wha-”

“Hurry up,” she repeats as you blink, trying to get your bearings.

“How did you get in here?” You ask, shoving her off you.

“Door,” she shrugs, “I found a spell to unlock locks. Where's your boyfriend?”

“My what!” You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you rush to change into a pair of jeans. Maybe a cleaner sweater too.

Ava rolls her eyes. “Your boyfriend. Noah? You're not shivering so he can't be far.”

She grabs your hand as soon as you pull your sweater over your head and drags you out of your room. Tom, Andy, and Dan are loitering around the living room.

After graduating, Andy and Dan have both decided to go to the local university. You knew it had to do with Tom and his whole research into the power even as Ava was planning a semester abroad because she firmly believed that there was more supernatural occurrences in the world.

You close your eyes focusing on Noah. “He's on his way,” you confirm, sending him in the woods near your house. When you both entered the dreamworld, Noah more often than not ended up in the ruins.

You took his word for it.

You didn't plan on ever stepping foot in those ruins again.

“I mean,” Ava laughs humorlessly, “I always thought I was the winona ryder of our group but you're an actual monster fucker so you've got me beat by a mile.”

You can only look at her with alarm, aware your mouth was just hanging open in surprise.

“Please don't say that shit,” Andy groans. “It's bad enough knowing that asshole’s doing fine and dandy not facing punishment.” He says as if Noah didn't die.

“I'm-what, what's going on here?” You look around at your friends.

They exchange glances as Noah appears, back resting against the wall looking too cool for school in his usual disaffected way, hands in his pockets.

Andy sighs, before speaking up, “Tom, I think you should-”

“No,” Ava shakes her head, “I can explain it.”

Tom raises a brow.

She nods. “I'm chill.”

“You've never been chill in your life but go on,” Andy teases.

Ava's expression softens, the guarded rage that simmered in the lines around her frown disappear as she looks at you and Noah. “I think I know how to bring Noah back.”

You swallow, “How-how is that even possible,” because you and Noah have never mentioned the fact that he's dead but he is. You watched him die.

“Ava,” Noah says, long having resigned himself to this partial existence, “even the power can't bring the dead back to life. Just look at the zombie animals. They're not really alive.”

Dan does a little, continue on, hand motion directed at her.

“Well, that's the thing,” she says, locking eyes with Noah, “I don't think you're dead.”

Noah’s expression is stone cold as he outstretches his arms out wide. Which like right, he was literally a ghost right now.

“Yeah,” Ava nods, “I can see that. But, it fits. I first started working on this theory when they mentioned they could sense you, and then there's the fact,” she looks at you now, “you're always cold. And not just you need a jacket cold but cold in the summer heat even with three layers, as if your body was-”

“Dying,” Noah utters aloud.

She nods, looking over at Tom.

He clears his throat, “when people get absorbed into the power, their memories don't last but you remember things pretty well.”

The corners of Noah's mouth lift up, a small smile on his lips. “Well I can't take the credit for that,” he says meeting your eyes.

“Somehow,” Ava says carefully to Noah, “down in the ruins, you two tied your lives together. That’s why you're still yourself and why they're always freezing cold. Because your body is still down in the ruins and I'm willing to bet it's frozen in the same state since that night.”

“Speak for yourself,” Andy scowls, “I'm not stepping foot in the ruins.”

“Redfield isn't there anymore,” Noah frowns.

“Yeah well,” Andy bites back, “I don't trust you.”

That shuts Noah up.

“And how. . .,” you start to ask as hope fills your chest even as you try to be careful because you saw Noah die and now Ava was bringing you a shot in the dark. “How would that work exactly?”

Ava shrugs. “First we have to go to the ruins. See if I'm right and then-”

“She doesn't know,” Noah states. “But I think it's worth a shot.”

“I'm going to wait with Andy out here,” Dan states, fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat with wire you'd kept since that school year.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, wrapping him in a quick hug because he probably had the worst time of you all here and yet he'd still come along.

He hugs you back before you make your way to Tom and Ava are both bickering over some obscure text that might or might not be true: Noah sits on the crumbling step that marks the entrance to the ruins, deceivingly calm. It's the first time you've been here since that night.

You remind yourself there's nothing to fear. Just Noah and you're not scared of him.

“Well then,” Tom motions you first.

Noah rolls his eyes, “if I wanted to kill you I could do it without luring you down there.”

Ava twists her mouth, expression furious.

You go to smack his shoulder, your hand passing right through him and hitting the stone wall. “Shit,” you grumble, rubbing your knuckles.

Noah sniggers, not the slightest bit apologetic.

Ava gives you a look that can be best summed up as him?

You shrug. It's not like you planned on being helplessly in love with Noah Marshall, you just were.

Noah goes down first, his form glowing brightly for your benefit, as you follow closely behind him.

Tom and Ava wait a second before following you down. So they were using you as a test.

The ruins are just as dark and awful as you remember. Rocks slick with water that drips down from the roof. You pay close attention where you step, not wanting to break a leg down here, as you enter the chamber where the creature-that-had-been-Jane forced you to play are you scared.

The chairs are still tossed around the room that maybe was a basement once, or maybe it just reminded you of the idea of a basement, but it's the body lying in the floor that takes your breath away. Noah, exactly the way you'd last send him, covered in dirt and grime, absolutely no color in his skin. There was no rise and fall in his chest, and his lips were tinged blue.

Tom shines his light over Noah's prone body. “Well he's definitely preserved, there's no rotting smell.”

“Try not to talk about me like I'm a piece of meat,” Noah says, lingering next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours (or coming close to the feeling).

You look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression is carefully blank. You turn to Ava, “what do you need me to do?”

Ava looks from you to Noah, “I'm not sure. There's not exactly an instruction manual but, you should be able to draw him out from the power.”

“Bet that goes both ways,” Noah utters grimly.

Tom nods.

“So I could just as easily get caught up down here?”

Ava nods sternly, “but that's not going to happen.”

Noah looks at you, shaking his head, “we shouldn't risk it.”

“What! No,” you shake your head, feeling warmth in your fingers for the first time in years. You reach for him, not caring that your fingers pass right through. It's the thought that counts and you've had millions of thoughts centered around  Noah.

“What if you end up like me,” Noah says, voice cracking.

You swallow thickly, “you can't think like that.”

“It is a lot to risk,” Tom points out gently.

You bite your lip, eyes tearing up, “I know.”

“Well I'm not,” Noah counters, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes glowing an infernal red as he makes his point. “It's my body after all.”

“Noah-,” you start.

“I'm not risking you.”

Ava fake gags, making you turn towards her, crouched over Noah's body with Tom all while taking down notes. When she knows she has the attention of you both, she smirks, “monster. fucker.”

Noah snorts.

“Don't worry Ava,” you joke, “you're still that very witch.”

“Damn right I am,” she grins.

“Should we. . .,” Tom says, scratching his chin in thought. “They're movies but still. . .”

“Maybe it has to just be them two,” Ava posits at Tom, “like it was last time.”

“Maybe. . .”

“So we’re doing this then?”

Ava's about to say something when she catches the death glare Noah's sending her. “How about you two decide that before we start trying anything.” She drags Tom up the stairs.

“Forget it,” Noah huffs, “I refuse to risk you.”

“I want to!” You cry out, “I want to help you and now I have the chance to.”

“Trust me. You don't want to be a monster.”

“You're not a monster,” you counter, squaring up against Noah.

He scowls before shifting into a mass of shadows, eyes a blazing wildfire burning though acres of bush land. He always had to have the last word.

“You're not a monster,” you repeat, still right by him, whether he was shadows or a specter he was Noah and that was all that mattered to you. “You've never been a monster. You've never hurt anyone. You helped out with the lake ghost. You've kept me company. It doesn't matter what form you take, to me, your Noah Marshall and that's all I really care about.” The tears fall down your cheeks freely now, even as you sniffle, soft smile on your lips as Noah calms down.

Fading from red to white to blue, until he's once more wearing the stupid beanie that you teased him about. Even death couldn't make him give up the beanie.

“You really would, wouldn't you,” he says in awe, “stay. Even if this doesn't work.” As if he couldn't wrap his head around the idea that he was that precious to anyone.

You nod. Not trusting your voice.

There's a tenderness in his expression that fills your chest with warmth as he closes the distance between you, careful, as he presses his insubstantial lips against yours and you've never felt this crazy about anyone before: never felt sure about anything like you know that if someone cracked your chest open, his name would be written on your heart.

You're not scared as darkness blots out the light of the chamber.

Darkness descends until you can't see a thing.

Noah holds your hand as you walk through the cemetery. His thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand as you lead the way to where his tombstone is.

“Your so dumb,” you mutter for the thousandth time. Stacy's mom had graciously helped with spinning the whole Noah's actually alive story, but his mom was long gone leaving behind a tombstone for her two kids.

“It's hilarious,” he says nonchalantly even though you know he fidgeted the whole car drive here.

“Tom said to keep your nose down.”

“Tom has a stick up his ass.”

You smack his shoulder lightly, “be nice. I like Tom.”

“I never said I didn't like Tom,” he frowns, and if you didn't know him as well as you do, you'd believe the serious expression in his furrowed brow.

“You're such a dick,” you shake your head with a laugh.

Noah snorts, “I'm perfectly nice.”

“Who told you that lie!”

He pulls you in close, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist, “Lily thinks so.”

“please,” you counter, “if someone asked Lily to help them find their missing puppy she'd help them.”

Noah wags his finger, “now who's being a dick.”

You burst out laughing, still in amazement that Noah was here in the flesh and blood and you were never going to tire of simple things like holding his hand or having his arm around you as you walk.

Neither of you nor Noah were hopeless romantics or sappy people, but having been put through the ringer to so much as kiss, holding hands had become an unspoken agreement when you went grocery shopping or drove over to visit Tom as you finally took him up on the offer to learn how to swim.

You halt in front of his grave.

Noah Marshall.

1999-2018

It's simple. It's impersonal.

You hate it.

Noah doesn't waste a second, opening up the camera app on his phone. and taking a selfy in front of his own tombstone. “Get in the picture!”

You shake your head with a giggle, “okay, okay, just one,” and you snuggle up to him, pulling a funny face as he gets the inscription in the selfy.

“Guess this is goodbye to Westchester then,” he says out loud.

“I guess so,” you nod, peering out into the surrounding woods.

Noah leans in, kissing your cheek, “can't say I'll miss it. Not when I'm taking the best thing in this town with me.”

Your cheeks burn red. But the way the words melt your heart doesn't make you pull a punch. “You're such a nerd beanie boy.”

“Oh shut up,” Noah laughs, pink dusting his cheekbones.

There was no doubt about it. This was love.

[jenniferxprentiss]

You Are In Love

Chapter Two- Coffee At Midnight 

read on ao3 here, listen to the song here

hi! Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this chapter! It’s very angsty, and I hope it hurts you as good as it hurts me. Remember - slow burns are the best when they sting!

tagging the few peeps I remembered who wanted on a tag list - I’ll make a formal tag list request post within the next day or so! @f-m27 @heat-waveee @whiskey-fluent @garcias-batcave @jjsgirlfriend @davidrossi-ismydad @good-heavens-chris-evans @dont-trustyourfeelings

I’m listing a very soft TW for abortion- they discuss Emily’s canon abortion, very light conversation, not a ton of detail. if you wish, and it triggers you, I can send you an abbreviated version of the chapter leaving out the abortion talk <3 I want you all to feel comfy!

anyways, if you want to review, please do! Please?

The silence between them was thick and full of unspoken questions, Emily’s expression blank and unreadable. JJ wanted to cry again, bottom lip ensnared between her teeth. She looked at Emily with a heartbreakingly sad expression, trying desperately to read her.

After a moment, Emily let out a breathy chuckle, blinking rapidly in shock. She raised her eyebrows, cocking her head as she tried to read JJ’s expression and understand exactly why this was a sad thing.

“I’m...wow, Jayje, that’s amazing!” When JJ’s expression contorted to one of sadness, Emily backtracked. “Or maybe it’s not? You’ve gotta let me in on what’s going on.”

There was another awkward silence, JJ’s eyes downcast, shoulders quaking as she tried her best to will the tears away and force the lump out of her throat. She sighed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her slacks before shrugging her shoulders.

“Not here, not now.”

“Okay, since wine is off the table… why don’t we go pick up some takeout and go back to mine?”

Emily let her hand rest on the small of JJ’s back, guiding her towards the parking lot. There was no way she would let JJ drive in the emotional state she was in, her face still pinched in a mixture of sadness and anger.

“You really don’t have to drive me.”

Despite her words, JJ didn’t object to Emily opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, fastening her seatbelt while Emily rounded the car. She flashed JJ a gentle smile - not one of pity or anger like JJ had expected - before starting the car.

“I know.”

Emily kept her tone light, fingers ghosting along the inside of JJ’s wrist like she always did when she was asking to hold her hand. She smiled when JJ turned her palm up, grasping Emily’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

They remained hand in hand the entire drive, the sky black before they pulled into Emily’s driveway. Her house was much larger than her apartment had been, several bedrooms on a semi-private piece of land. She was content there, with her cat and not knowing her neighbors, a goofy smile on her lips as they walked into the house.

———————

They had settled in, Emily sprawled across the couch while JJ curled up in the chair, boxes of pizza stacked high on the coffee table. JJ had put off talking until they had eaten, Emily promptly ordering their favorite pizza - and enough to feed an army, at that.

“So…” Emily trailed off, taking a moment to swallow before she set her plate on the boxes. “You need to explain.”

“Explain what? I’m pregnant, you know how babies are made.”

“Smart ass.”

Emily rolled her eyes, shooting a pointed look at JJ. Her eyebrow was raised, studying JJ’s face for some sort of response. Unfortunately, they were both profilers and knew how to make their expressions unreadable.

“Okay. Fine.” JJ sighed, rubbing her temples. “So, I called Will and told him that I’m pregnant and he asked me what I’m going to do about it. What I’m going to do, like I’m the only one who participated in getting pregnant!”

A blind rage filled Emily, turning her stomach. She felt her pulse quicken and spots form in her vision - a tell that she was angry, not just upset. Will had been an ass to JJ since they got together a few years back, always making comment on her career and her choices. She really just didn’t like him, and that probably would never change.

“Okay, wow, there’s a lot to unpack there. Did he uh, say anything else?”

JJ shook her head, lips pursed into a fine line. He didn’t - but he said everything he needed to without words. He didn’t want kids - hell, she didn’t know if she even wanted children - but he couldn’t at least comfort her? Make her feel even a little better about the situation?

“Alright, do you think him not saying anything else was a bad thing? Was he just shocked?”

“I mean, it’s not a good thing. We uh, we talked a few weeks ago.” JJ let out another sigh, sounding ragged and tired. “He said kids weren’t on the table for us, because of our jobs. He loves work too much and I… don’t know about me. I love my job and I want to be a mom too, but I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t need to have every answer right now.” Emily shot JJ a comforting smile, her head leaning back into the plush pillowing of the couch.

They were interrupted by the sharp ring of JJ’s phone - both groaning because they thought they would be called away to another case. JJ picked it up, her face contorting in anger as she let out a long sigh.

“Will.”

Emily sat up, elbows resting on her knees as she listened intently. She studied JJ’s face as it changed - moving from confusion to anger to tears welling up in her eyes in a matter of seconds. Quietly, she made a motion for JJ to explain, head cocked.

“No, Will, I’m not getting an abortion. That’s off the table.”

She felt her heart begin to race at JJ’s words, stomach turning. Emily tried to swallow down the bile rising in her throat, staggering to the bathroom and promptly emptying her stomach into the toilet. She felt the telltale burn of tears spring to her eyes, willing herself to stop for a moment - today was JJ’s day, not hers.

It had been so long since she had allowed herself to think of her own abortion all those years ago, and the feelings of shame and guilt and anguish hit her like a freight train. She sighed shakily, ignoring the niggling voice of guilt in the back of her mind - it was what was best at the time, she knew that in her rational mind - before splashing some water on her face, hands gripping the sink as she stared into the mirror.

The reflection was a face Emily hadn’t seen in years - eyebrows furrowed together, mouth pursed into a thin line. She had tried for years to bury the feelings of shame and anguish, the anxiety she had felt, and all of it was rushing back to her again. But this wasn’t about her - this was JJ’s moment, and whatever she decided would be perfectly fine.

Because she was her best friend. Because JJ was a capable adult. Because JJ was able to make her own choices, and Emily was going to be supportive because she loved her, she wanted nothing more for her than happiness.

She left the bathroom, preparing herself for a fight when she heard JJ still arguing with Will.

“No, that’s not happening. No, I can’t.” JJ was scrubbing her face with the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt Emily had lent her. “I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t… I can’t think of that.”

When she saw Emily enter, she looked up at her, brows knit together in confusion. A silent question - an ‘are you okay, please talk to me’. Emily shook her head, a not now, maybe later.

“Listen, Will, I don’t really have any other words right now but I don’t know, I can’t tell you I’ll get an abortion…”

Emily felt the familiar bubble of anger rising in her chest again, an anger she hadn’t felt in so long. She was usually so controlled with her emotions, measured out and carefully let out. She didn’t cry, she didn’t yell, but with Will? Will incited a rage in her that no one else ever had.

With a sigh, she held out her hand for JJ’s phone, mouthing for her to hand it over, that she wanted to talk to Will. She took a breath, fingers wrapping around the phone - burying her disgust in the heart emojis beside Will’s name - before putting it to her face.

“I don’t really know you, you’re too much of a ball licker to get to know your girlfriend’s friends, but you need to back the fuck up. You can’t just tell Jayje to get an abortion! It’s not your fucking body!”

“You know what? I don’t think it’s your body either.”

“It’s not! And it’s not my choice. It’s JJ’s choice, and I’ll hold her hand the entire time if that’s what she chooses. And if not? If she wants to keep your baby - god, poor fucking child to have you for a father. If she wants to keep the baby, I’ll hold her hand through that too. Because I’m not you - because I’m not a piece of shit.”

Emily struggled to maintain her composure, eyes filling with tears once again. She pushed them away, heart pounding so loudly from adrenaline and emotion that she could hear it in her ears.

“You sound like an angry person, Emily Prentiss. I hope your life gets a little better soon. Put Jayje back on the phone.”

“No. She’s my best friend and I know her well enough to know she needs space right now. You guys can talk later.”

She let out a huff, breath shaking, as she hung up the phone. Her lower lip trembled when she set the phone down on the table, adrenaline from their short conversation crashing into her as the tears threatened to spill over her eyelids.

“Fuck, he’s such an ass.” Emily breathed out, tears leaking down her face. She hissed out a soft ‘fuck’, trying to laugh breathily to distract from the tears.

“Hey now, he’s not that bad.” JJ offered, soft pout on her face.

JJ looked on, concern etched into her face - Emily never showed emotion, even on the toughest of their cases. JJ wasn’t used to seeing Emily cry, not even after she had been stabbed, shot, or tortured.

“It’s not Will… the abortion thing, it’s personal for me.”

JJ nestled herself into Emily’s side, fingers trailing down the inside of her arm and tickling at her palm, soft smile creeping up on her lips when Emily grasped her hand. They sat in silence for a few moments, JJ’s head leaning on Emily’s shoulder, both teary eyed and trying to regain their composure.

“Are you ready to talk about it? I won’t judge you. I would never judge you.”

“Jayje…” Emily’s voice was soft, a broken ghost of her usual authoritative tone. “I was fifteen. I got pregnant - um, duh, you have to be pregnant to get an abortion. I was kicked out of my church, but he - my best friend, the, um, the dad if there had really been a baby - he held my hand the entire time. He convinced me to go back to church, with my head held high.”

JJ was quiet, letting Emily have her moment to think and speak. She listened to her tone, shaky and carefully measured, taking the time to enunciate every word - a tell that she was trying her best not to cry. JJ squeezed her hand, nodding in encouragement for her to continue.

“And I feel so much still, so much pain and anguish and guilt and fear… Fear of the unknown, wondering what my life would be like if I had kept my baby. The guilt keeps me up at night, sometimes. I’m good at compartmentalizing, at pushing things away and not feeling them, like they happened to someone else and not me.”

JJ felt her heart clench at Emily’s words, so small and soft and far away. She rubbed her head into Emily’s shoulder, a soft smile on her lips when Emily rested her head on JJ’s own. They sat for a moment, JJ listening to Emily softly sniffle, before she took another deep breath.

“I still feel so much, yes, but I want you to know something. God, Jayje, I could never judge you. I will never judge you - if you feel like this is something you need to do, I’m here. I’ll hold your hand the entire time, the entire way, and I’ll take care of you. You’re my best friend and I love you, and I just… sorry I got weird.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t get weird, because we’re best friends and I’ll see your pain and your hurt and I’ll take some of it to get it off your back for a while.”

JJ rubbed small circles in Emily’s back, lifting her head to turn and properly look at her best friend. Emily looked so wrecked and emotional, makeup tracked down her face, eyes red and swollen.

“I’ll take your pain, and I’ll lessen the load. And I’ll take care of you always, because you’re not alone - you’re never alone when you have me.”

At JJ’s words, Emily let out a hollow sob, hand squeezing tightly to JJ’s. She felt the tears come on stronger now, hunched over and trying her best to swallow her tears and broken cries.

“I keep thinking. I keep thinking about it.” Emily let out a broken sob, free hand coming up to cover her mouth. “I keep thinking about the what if’s, the what could have been’s. I should be over it, I know it.”

“You shouldn’t. You have the right to feel, the right to have your emotions and work through them.”

JJ kept her voice soothing, thumb rubbing the back of Emily’s hand as she just let her cry. She knew that she probably hadn’t allowed herself to cry in a very long time, sobs shaking her small frame. In that moment, she looked so small and fragile - a stark contrast to the badass FBI agent everyone else saw.

They stayed huddled together, hand in hand, until Emily had cried herself out. Her body was shivering, wracked with hiccuping dry sobs, face reddened and damp with the residue of her tears. JJ leaned her head on her shoulder again, dropping a soft kiss to the exposed skin there.

“Are you ready for bed? We don’t have to talk anymore tonight, I know you’ve probably reached your emotional quota for the day.”

“Yeah, uh…” Emily jumped up, wiping at her face with a tissue from the coffee table. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I had cried for that long. Fuck, this is so awkward.”

JJ caught her by the wrist, standing and looking into Emily’s eyes purposefully. She hoped her expression conveyed everything she was feeling - the support, the love, and the pride, so very proud of Emily for coming forward with her secrets and letting her emotions out.

“Hey, stop that. You’re so strong, you put everyone else before you. And yes, you compartmentalize, but you need to learn to let people in. I’m proud of you, you could never be a burden to me.”

There was a moment of silence between them, Emily’s eyes narrowing as she studied JJ’s expression, searching for sincerity. She knew she was sincere, but couldn’t help herself, she needed to know - know that everything was okay between them still, that JJ didn’t judge her.

“Stop, you’re going to make me cry again. I don’t fucking cry.”

“No, you don’t cry, but maybe you should try it sometimes. It’s very cathartic.”

They walked down the hall, Emily stopping at the guest room door as though JJ had never stayed the night at her house before. She made a little motion with her hand, sheepish smile on her face.

“So uh, here’s the guest room… you know that already. Fuck, I’m being stupid.” Emily laughed at herself, a little bit of her usual light and fire returning to her eyes. “Anyways, I’ll be down the hall if you need anything?”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Emily, I’m leaving the door open if that’s okay?”

Emily turned, already halfway down the hallway, a soft smile playing on her lips. She nodded, head cocked as she looked at JJ, studied her face and the way she looked without makeup, uninhibited beauty.

“Yeah, Jayje, you can leave the door open. Sleep tight, come find me if you need me?”

She retreated down the hall, climbing into bed and turning her lamp out. Emily slept with her door open - come to think of it, most of the BAU slept with their doors open, that she knew of - turning onto her side and staring at the window across from her bed. It would be another sleepless night, she just knew it, emotions still racing as her brain worked overtime, thinking of all the possibilities - about herself, her would-be child, about JJ, about Will.

A soft knock on the doorframe brought Emily from her thoughts, clicking her lamp on and sitting up in bed to look at JJ. She was leaning against the door, small blanket wrapped around her body, with the most pitiful expression Emily had ever seen.

The sight of the blanket almost made her smile, the one JJ had claimed as her own when she first became friends with Emily. When she offered for JJ to take it home, JJ declined, saying that she would just have to keep coming over to see Sergio the cat and cuddle up with her favorite blanket.

“Trouble sleeping?” Emily almost didn’t recognize her own voice, small and hoarse from the tears. “Me too.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

Wordlessly, Emily laid back down, lifting the blanket for JJ to climb in. She smiled, nearly laughing out loud at the way JJ launched herself into the bed and crawling under the blankets, a pleased smile on her face.

JJ wrapped around her body, hand clutching at Emily’s tee and head resting on her chest. They were both grinning stupidly - the way they always did when they stayed up too late watching horror movies but were too scared to sleep alone.

“Good night, Jayje.”

Emily felt her eyes fluttering shut against her will, nose buried in JJ’s soft hair. She yawned, wrapping and arm around JJ and squeezing gently, finally starting to drift to sleep in JJ’s embrace.

“Night, Em. Thank you for letting me in tonight - you’re the strongest woman I know.”

She tried to fight sleep to respond, but her body felt too heavy with exhaustion, unable to will herself to speak. Emily settled for a soft sigh, one hand threading in JJ’s hair as they both drifted off to sleep.

[tenbees]

Hi sorry to rant here but like I don’t get the gold star discourse like I don’t hate non gold stars and I’m not opposed to dating them at all but like I don’t understand how they can say gold stars are privileged?? Like when they were pressured into having relationship with men in high school(like some of them say) or something but like is it too hard to simply say no? Is someone actually point a gun to your head and saying you HAVE to be with a man or I’ll shoot you??? to be continued...

and like I understand you know women who didn’t want to accept they were lesbians and forced themselves to have a relationship with men because they hated themselves and I get why they would do it because having depression I have always struggled with self hating and self harming and I think lesbians with men are self harming but I just could never bring myself to be romantically involved with a man not matter how much I hated myself and felt alone and misunderstood. to be continued...

But I don’t think it’s fair to say non goldstars aren’t really lesbians because as a gold star I get a lot of the “you can’t know if you like men or not if you never tried being with them.” And like I don’t have to try and force myself to be with someone I don’t want to be with ??? And sometimes I get back to self hating and thinking yeah maybe I should try and be with men so I know for sure?? But at the same time I’m like I DONT WANT TO!!! to be continued... (the other is the last part)

And I don’t see myself being capable of forcing myself in a situation like that. Point is, saying lesbians who had experience with men OR lesbians who had never been with men are not “real” lesbians is awful and both of us have a hard time enough as it is so I think we should all be more understanding of each other. Because in reality none of us are “privileged”. Sorry for the word vomit in your inbox it’s cause when this discourse comes up I genuinely don’t understand why it even comes up??

at first i thought very similarly to you--i accepted that some lesbians date men because they feel pressured to, because they hate themselves, etc, but that for whatever reason i’ve never done it despite experiencing a lot of the same pressures. but after reading multiple stories of ‘lesbians’ who had religious families (me too), grew up in conservative areas (me too), didn’t know women were an option (me too), felt like they had to be attracted to men (me too), thought something was wrong with them because they weren’t attracted to men (me too) and so on and thus decided to pursue men, ask men out, accept men’s advances, flirt with men, fuck men, date men, marry men, have children with men, i was like... something doesn’t add up.

you said yourself that you feel the same pressure but won’t date or fuck a man because you simply don’t want to and because no one’s actually forcing you. what makes others different? why did feeling all of that make them have relationships with men, when it made us just not participate? what makes some women willing to give men a try while others refuse? i think the women who pursue men despite their (exaggerated, in many cases) disgust are attracted to them on some level and that this shows the difference in how lesbians and kinsey 5 bisexuals respond to homophobia. lesbians respond by avoiding relationships with men, even if it means becoming an outcast, while bisexuals respond by entering relationships with men despite their heavy preference for women/negative feelings about men.

lesbians have been talking about it because the dominant lesbian narrative is that it’s normal for lesbians to have sex with men before coming out, which is a bisexual narrative. a lot of us have felt isolated and like we’re the only lesbians on earth who decided to just never date and instead be alone throughout our childhood/young adult years. it’s very isolating to watch movies, read books, and hear the life stories of ‘lesbians’ who were in relationships with men before coming out, relationships that were completely optional--why should ex-het voices be the most common in lesbian spaces? why should we just accept that lesbians will have sex with men before knowing they’re gay? you don’t just flip a switch and turn into a homosexual, you act like a homosexual your entire life and show consistent interest in women and apathy about men without even knowing what you are. any narrative that suggests lesbians will willingly have sex with men under the right circumstances (social pressure, religion, self hatred, mental illness, etc) is harmful, let alone the idea that lesbians are privileged and lucky if we’ve never had sex with a man--as if all of the women saying that couldn’t have literally just chosen to not have sex with men if they didn’t want it lol. not to mention how ridiculous it is to suggest that women who categorically say no to men's wants are privileged in any way.

[princesshalfdemon]

you know, i was going to try to be the bigger woman about this, but i have something to say. and if you read this; i invite you to read every last goddamn word of this. at the last, you owe us this much. if you have even a shred of dignity and pride in your body, i invite you to read every word.

imagine being such an absolutely idiotic (and transmisogynstic) waste of space you get angry when people don’t respond to the vent posts you make every 5 seconds, hanging around in the private and hidden nsfw channels of a server with 18+ channels you need an invite to join... and comparing grown women posting dick picks to pedophiles and groomers? not to mention your open consumption of transmisogynsitic media in the past, and your rantings about a trans woman because you’re too fucking goddamn stupid to understand any axis of oppression that doesn’t directly affect you... so i’m inviting you to read this shit, specifically in the hopes you FINALLY learn a thing or two. as odd as it may sound, in addition to just venting, this is for your benefit as well, in the hopes you learn SOMETHING for once in your life. for ONCE learn something.

you know (and i KNOW you’re going to see this), it’s genuinely a shame; this is your true colors, huh? from the bottom of my heart, i thought better of you. i really did.

i cared about you. my girlfriend cared about you; you literally asked her out to be with you... only to do this the moment she accepts? and people who have supported you despite every one of your bullshit callouts, because we know who you are. you were our friend. we put tremendous trust into you; you were loved. you’ve made a billion posts about how you were wondering if anyone would ever notice if you just fucked out of their lives? we noticed. we were hurt. badly so. we CARED about you and your pain. but we have our own lives and don’t have the time to comment on your vent posts every five minutes. that didn’t change the fact we regularly engaged with you and cared about you deeply.

I have to start 90% of my daily conversations. me. the person with a 80+ member friend server. with the exception of my girlfriends, if i don’t initiate conversations? i can go an entire day with almost no conversations. that’s how life fucking WORKS. if you want to have a conversation, you go START THEM, you fucking IDIOT. that’s how BEING AN ADULT WORKS. if you want conversations, you go TALK TO PEOPLE. this has been my norm since i was FOURTEEN YEARS OLD. you are nineteen goddamn years fucking old; get your head OUT OF YOUR ASS AND INTO THE FUCKING GAME. haven’t you ever wondered HOW i’ve manage to amass such a massive friend group? by TAKING CHARGE AND COMMUNICATING WITH OTHERS. this! is! how!

but that hurt quickly passed; having a transmisogynstic moron who always complained and cried about how people called them out for being a fucking idiot because they “don’t know any better” out of our lives and our safe spaces where people are free to be sexual so long as they do not harass others (that, again, you chose to willingly enter and could have willingly left at any time), whining about how they don’t understand how your agab affects discourse about transmisogyny and making the entire server uncomfortable until we agreed with you.

you yearn for love; and when someone gives it to you, you freak out and reject it. i could deal with that, we all could... but to think THIS is how you feel. i don’t think i’ve ever gone from sincerely caring someone to losing every ounce of care and sympathy i’ve ever had for them.

you’re a fucking idiot. always have been, and always will be. enjoy your next inevitable kinnie callout; if nothing else, at least i don’t have to worry about constantly giving you advice the entire time on what to do (which you would inevitably ignore and just do the exact same fucking thing again in a few months, like you ALWAYS did). my only regret is how much i ignored these warning signs about you.

idk :/ ppl dont talk 2 me anymore unless i initiate .every1 ik is like *is dating* and im like *is ignored or worse hated* and it sucks. im just. sad. (this one is especially funny all things considered) does any1. like. even care about me anymore. like. if i left all my servers and deleted all my social media would any1 even notice. doubt it. i am ... unloved and unwanted and unnoticed lol.

we noticed. we were genuinely really hurt, especially the woman who returned your feelings. until you kept showing your true colors. and now, you’re dead to us.

you had friends.

i guess now you don’t, huh? have fun with that.

happy 2020. you won’t be missed, and we’re all going to be heading to our bright and fun tomorrows... we would have liked you to have been a part of it, but being dead to us is just as well. have a good life, and good luck... if anyone needs that, it’s you.

more than anything, i make this post for you. so in case your depressive episode ends and you decide you might want to try some kind of reconciliation, don’t bother; you’re dead to us. be angry, be sad, be whatever; as long as you stay the fuck out of our lives, be whatever you want to be. if anyone’s stupid enough to think they could turn back the clock, it’s you, so i want this to be absolutely clear; if you even want to try, go fuck yourself.

the love and friendship is gone and we finally see you for what you are; a transmisogynistic, fucking stupid asshole. have a miserable life; i don’t care anymore.

[lansizhuis]

dude i literally dont understand why there are so many of THOSE type of people are in the MXTX fandom. they harass people for liking all kinds of *problematic* content, but when it comes to the questionable stuff in the novels they just... totally ignore it?? even though in any other situation they'd be throwing tantrums and sending death threats to people over it. like wtf why are you here LOL

HELLO TO ALL OF YOU - first of all, I want to thank all the supportive messages you have sent me both here in my inbox and DMs. It means so much to me that I legit have no proper words how to convey my gratitude to you guys. Second, this is going to be the last time I will talk about this thing just to clear things up on my end. If there was something in particular that you want to discuss with me about - my DMs are always open! I’m forever late in replying anywhere but I promise that I always do. 

Third, I’d like to apologize that your fandom experience had to be tainted like this and a part of it even coming from my blog (bc i made that response post and answered the ask). I sincerely hope that it won’t happen again. Honestly, if you guys have any issues with what I post, either discuss it with me on DM (not on anon bc that’s too depersonalized for a serious topic) or just block/unfollow if you’re not keen on talking. I always tag accordingly as well so if you want me to tag a content (eg a ship, a character, etc) so you can blacklist it, I will always adhere to those requests.

Fourth, I understand that there are minors in the fandom and consume both canon and fan content. I was once a minor in a fandom too but I limited the content I consumed to what I can handle personally without hollering at the skies bc I knew then that the content wasn’t made with me in mind. Mo Dao Zu Shi was created by an adult made for adults. I’d just like to reiterate that all of MXTX’s novels are all R18 and wasn’t made to cater for minors so if you still enter the fandom with that criteria then it’s your call and responsibility to curate your own experience. 

Fifth, for all the stuff said about me, I was chill bc for one I know that things like a/b/o and yandere headcanons aren’t everyone’s cup of tea and that is totally fine. What really set me off was the casual drop of big terms associating me with p//dophilia and child p//rn when in fact, I HAVE NEVER condoned anything of the sort and it was the only argument against me that they didn’t attach any “proof” of. I’m sorry you had to see me get off at that accusation bc personally, those are legitimate real life issues that endangers real life people so to be thrown in such a lot pissed me off.

Sixth, I use metaphors a lot and I can see how these can be taken out of context. In the future, I would be more careful in using them. Most importantly - as much as I love all your support, please never consider everything I say as the mandate of heaven bc I’m just a normal human being like you. If I make a mistake, let me know about it properly (and please expect questions on my end on why it was a mistake bc I’m a fan of intellectual discussions and not just depending on another’s mere words). I’m learning from all of you.

And lastly, my goal has never changed since I started this blog last September 2018 - I want the MXTX fandom to be as comfortable as possible in their own spaces as much as I want in mine. I never take it against anyone if you decide to unfollow or block if that will give you a peace of mind. Again, this is the last time I will be talking about it with people on anon. Another request from me - let’s not bother with that person; as in don’t send them messages of hate and the like because it will drain you guys and just make you feel down; and what makes me happy are you guys being happy. So it’s not worth it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

[zenosanalytic]

4/20/19 HSE 8

Ok back at it

MEAT 15

Cool Fight; Not terribly surprising.

MEAT 16

Dirk’s as much Rose’s father as Rose is his Mother. I guess maybe it’s more convenient, psychologically, to choose a causative direction and stick with it, rather than accept the Mobial nature of their genesis, but for some reason it bugs me this keeps getting overlooked.

Dirk’s over here talking about how right he is all the time and I dont think he was ever right about anything even once in canon(aside from certain aspects of his talk with Dave, and choosing not to kill Hal) XD The only “plan” of his to work was the one re: entering the Session, and 1)he outsourced it to Hal and 2)it only worked because he managed to improvise his way through every aspect of it failing to go the way he thought it would, and even that probably had more to do with their entry being part of HiC’s plan to use them, so she wasn’t trying to wipe them.

Another Thing: I dont think the Ascent Differential is Aspect so much as Personality.

Another Another Thing: That Rose, when discussing her life-long fear of knowledge as a corrupting and ruining outside force(this being a person who always felt her mother wasn’t her mother, in some sense, and responded to that fear by rejecting emotional intimacy with said mother), doesnt see the connection between that life-long fear and her fear that Ascending will be bad, damaging, and corrupting, is Notable. Perspective continues to be important, and lack of self-awareness continues to hamstring ppl in this narrative.

MEAT 17

I feel like this new narrative belligerence on Dirk’s part isn’t going to work out too well for him with a person as aware and recalcitrant to narrative meddling as John. It’s going to be John and WV all over again. This is also a wonderful example of how personal flaw and specificity isn’t solved by Godhood in HS, and can really trip you up; basically all of this, including the “impotence” applies to Dirk, too, when others disagree with the direction he’s trying to push them in, and this whole rant may be meant, ironically, as an example of dramatic irony: basically, that Dirk’s rant about total control and knowledge reveals the limits of his knowledge and will be followed by examples of how limited his control is, which he can’t be aware of, but which the “impotent” audience will.

MEAT 18

...And, almost immediately, John’s objecting to the narration and doing things before Dirk “writes” him doing them(the sigh).

MEAT 19

“So yeah, I’m gonna allow it” Notice how he asserts power over situations he does not, in fact, have power over.

Which is kind of an interesting dynamic to bring up in the context of authorship? I mean: in the realm of nonfictional works an author can’t “make” things happen, only alter for their audience what DID happen. In some respect this is being written as equivalent to that dynamic; the simple admission in M17 that Dirk is misrepresenting events also admits those events happened another way than he’d prefer, meaning it’s also an admission of his lack of power over actual events. And, of course, all the other things I’ve been talking about, and the fact that everyone’s “character” is rooted in natures established in the original work. But in a fictional work an author’s creative power is absolute, and this is a fictional work; though I suppose a derivative or transformational one, which accounts for the shortfall. Another interesting aspect of this is that the “Author” is presented as a Narrator; Narrators merely describe what happened, they don’t create it. I was going somewhere more concrete with this but it popped out of my head >:T >:T

Ok so other aspects of this: I agree that Jane’s been established as a pretty ambitious person, but she was also always a pretty moral person and the way she’s going about this so far doesn’t seem to be in keeping with that part of herself. And also: she literally wants to create shortages, and thus the suffering shortages will cause, for... what? Nostalgia? Because she think she can run Capitalism better than the adults from before all this?? Because Hierarchy is Neat??? Seems like a whole handful of really petty, selfish, and juvenile reasons to me. Also one guaranteed to cause social conflict; I doubt a civ that’s never known material want is going to react too well to sudden starvation and financially-manufactured forced-labor(which, lbr, is what most work in our world is).

Obvsl, as a snake and member of the storied gens Atheris, I agree with Roxy&Calli that patriarchal human concepts of gender are not the end-all-be-all of identity, but what really jumps out to me here is Roxy’s description of the nature of their love for, and previous sexual interest in, Dirk which I find really True. Like: the sentiment of wanting to see children of a person because you really like that person and think they should continue, or of thinking having the kids you might have with another person would be pretty interesting. Also that loneliness is a hell of a drug 8T

I’m trying to figure out why this conversation would be circumstantially simultaneous with The Furthest Ring being “destroyed”, but I got Nothing :T :T :T

MEAT 20

So yeah, Jade’s merging with her Alt!Selves, not too surprising since it was heavily foreshadowed in Endgame.

Given that Sessions are located IN the Furthest Ring, and Sessions MAKE new multiverses, I find it being made out of “negative potential. The absence of a future” pretty ironic :p I wonder if the tentacle hair bit is a nod towards the Horror-Terrors, and theories about them being Players? Rose and Dirk’s view of Ascension would seem to suggest HTs might be SUCCESSFUL players who eventually abandoned their universes out of fear of the damage they’d do misusing their godhood(as it doesnt solve your personal problems), rather than the old HC of them being failed Players.

MEAT 21

My theory about “The Economy” being code for sex doesn’t stop feeling ever more confirmed by this narrative :|

Dirk’s anger at the idea of anyone not thinking he’s right about everything is Palpable on this page. Also I’d just like to note that This:

Is being said by a person currently in the middle of metaphysically manipulating a friends towards her worst impulses(and also potentially some amounts of self-hatred, give her thoughts re: femininity) for the sake of establishing a dictatorship through which she, as his agency-dimmed puppet, will enforce his personal politico-philosophical preferences regardless of what anyone else thinks and he’s saying it about people who just said This:

which is to say: a bunch of political pluralists who are NOT seeking to impose their morality on anyone but rather to establish a system where EVERYONE can SHARE their moral understanding of policy issues and come to a consensus decision on them, within the context of a political society DEFINED by the equality of all as political actors. There’s just so much that’s wrong, weak, and easily dismissable about Dirk’s argument here. Not to mention his obvs, undisguised, physical disgust for trolls >:T

And he’s doing all this Purely because, given his fixation on “Winning”, he wants to Win. Like: he’s not actually even pursuing what he considered good policy; he is, literally, doing this all for Pure Ego, which he has the gall(and lack of self-awareness) to accuse others of acting from. And this self-deluding buffoon is a person who believes himself “Ascended” and therefore possessed of a “higher” and “clearer” perspective on matters above their “petty” concerns about, oh non-humans being allowed to live as they like, or practice any political agency at all, and all ppls being spared unnecessary and pointless suffering due to entirely manufactured shortages. So much (real, actual)Irony, of so many types, in all of this, all at once.

An aside: I am really liking the political-mindedness of these Epilogues so far; really playing to my Interests uwu

The bit about Hybrid babs and shipnames is funny, and it doesn’t read like a shot at the fandom to me at all; it’s more a joke at Dave’s expense given the obvs distress Kanaya’s in and his inability to stop making the situation more awkward(itself prob the result of Bro’s neglect/abuse)

Oh hey look: it’s Dirk the “Omniscient” being distracted, caught unawares and off-guard by the actions of others, unable to handle the role&work he’s chosen for himself(ie “out of his depth”), unable to split his attention between even just two conscious ppl at once, and not knowing what others are thinking. Given this and his handling of Jade’s thoughts in the last section, I kinda feel like it’s less he can actually sense the thoughts of others, and more that he gets some kind of inkling or hunch, or maybe that’s it’s purely just him guessing(that’d fit real well with his comments on Roxy being “inscrutable” to him), or even just having an awareness of the plot he is narrating(and thinks he’s writing). Of course it could also be some kind of Heart thing; not really even access to their thoughts at all, but a sort of awareness of their Agency? Like: Heart is The Self and The Self is expressed through Agency, so he has, in some way, developed an awareness of “Self-Action”, which is to say, Agency? Kinda like how Dave “feels” Time and Jade “feels” Space and Rose “feels” Relevance. Which, just as an asnide, would be something super-basic powers-dev wise, since Dave started having a sense of Time way back in the early Acts, long before godhood. Though I can see how Dirk developing an awareness of OTHERS intentions(and feelings, potentially, given Heart’s other associations) would seem like a big step for him, given how self-absorbed he is.

Ok that’s it for this one I think. I know I’m not being terribly kind to Dirk in all this but, tbf, he’s being kind of a huge snide Dick in basically every respect, and I also don’t have a lot of Chill in me when it comes to 1)arrogant people or 2)manipulators (:T

[nutellaroimperiale]

((I am so sorry for this because I have so many muses, but...)) "I’m not that bad, am I?"

{ For multimuses: Send “I’m not that bad, am I?” to hear one positive thing from each of my muses about yours }

Okay, you want me dead, don’t you? Pardon me if I’ll go with one positive thing from each of my muses on yours but otherwise it’ll never end XD

To Daan from Luci:

“Why are you even asking me that? No, you’re not, you just… sometimes dont really know how to channel your energies in a good way and you do have some stupid ideas- god knows what you and Lutz could do together- but you still try to learn and that’s… good? I mean, it’s been how long? A year? And you complain, sure, but at this point it enters from one hear and leaves from the other.”

To Harm for Luci: 

“Hell no, you’re a fucking good double faced ass- that’s actually pretty impressive.”

To Guus from Luci:

“Man, you are a farmer, which is one of the fucking noblest things, and you like motorcycles… I wouldn’t call that bad.”

To Jan from Luci:

“What? I didn’t really understand what you just asked me, man.”

To Hannes from Luci:

“I…. you got a good national park?” Is that a child? Feels like a child. Don’t be a jerk to kids, Luci.

To Liesje from Luci

“Hell no, we need good hard working people around! The other provinces could learn a thing or two from you!”

To Kees from Luci:

“No man who likes animals and chocolate milk is really that bad? But why are we even discussing shit like that? Tell me more about that sheep breed of yours, emotion-things are… disgusting.”

To Andrias from Luci:

“Nah, man, we all have that person living next door that makes our life miserable-” Talking about France, isn’t he? “I can relate to that.” meaning you can’t be that bad, right? 

To Floris from Luci:

“*Intelligible rambling as he stuffs his mouth with chocolate baked goods*”

To Maaike from Luci:

“There isn’t a single thing I like about you: you’re loud, obnoxious, too tall for comfort- but if Lutz likes you so much there must be something good there and my brother has fun around you so… I guess not?”

To Leentje from Luci:

Okay, dad spirit kicking in as long as he’s alone with no other adults around them. “Of course not!” he comments, sitting down to be at her level and crossing his legs. He’s not the most expressive person, that’s for sure, but he is trying to look as…. reassuring as he can “We’ve all been baby nations, you know? And we all needed big nations to take care of us-” well, it wasn’t his case but at least now things were better “I know sometimes it probably feels like you’re being left behind but trust me, you’ll grow up and become a reliable adult yourself. And then, when you’ll be around my age, it’ll be your turn to look after other little nations. But for now your duty is to play and be happy, mh?”

To Lotte from Luci:

“You work hard as everyone else, that’s… respectable, I guess?

To Tim from Luci:

“Man, you’re, like, one of the few nations I don’t mind to have around because you’re fucking silent most of the time and you seem to understand the concept of ‘needing personal space and peace’- I’m not saying I like you but you’re certainly not that bad to have around.”

[nocteverbascio]

Sam and Alex fic idea! Ruby has a soccer game and invited Alex as a thank you for talking to her about Supergirl and ends up getting invited over for dinner at the Arias household afterwards but ends up paying more attention to her mom than to the food~ 😉

this…..turned out so much longer than i expected. i mentioned im a HUGE sucker for single parent AUs right? i am sO ABOUT THIS SHIP like i dont even watch the series anymore but agent reign?? MMM DELIGHTFUL. i took some artistic liberties with this but we all need a good feeling fic right?

1+1=2 (if you want me too)ao3 link

Alex is trained to notice things. It’s part of her job as much as it’s part of her life now. What she seems to notice right now is Sam.

Sam the CFO, the single mom, the friend. There’s a lot going on for Sam and she’s out here doing it on her own. That says a lot to Alex and there’s no higher level of respect that she can have for the woman. But she can also see where Sam does so much that she misses out on some things.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about that,” Sam says as she settles back into the lawn chair next to Alex’s.

“It’s okay,” Alex responds. “Well, it’s okay for me. Ruby scored a few seconds ago off an assist.”

“That’s great!” Sam smiles proudly before cheering for Ruby.

“Ruby was actually looking for you in the crowd. So I don’t know if it’s actually okay.” There’s a small frown on Sam’s face at Alex’s rambling, which makes her feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really know how to put that.”

“No, I should be the one that’s sorry,” Sam says with guilt in her voice. “I’m always working on something even before I started at L-Corp and I haven’t been giving Ruby as much attention as I want to. Or as much as I should really.”

Alex stares sympathetically. She unconsciously reaches for Sam’s hand. “I’m sure she understands. You have an important job after all and you’re trying to provide for your family. Once you get into the groove of things, you’ll be able to find some balance.”

Sam glances at Alex’s hand over hers, which makes Alex blush. There was definitely no reason for Alex to be touching Sam, she’s always been respectful of personal space. Just as Alex thinks to pull away, Sam turns to hand to hold Alex’s still. “Thanks for coming,” she says gratefully. “I know that Ruby invited you, but it’s really nice for me to know someone else is also here to support Ruby.”

“Of course,” Alex responds like it’s no big deal. “I’m more than happy to be here.”

After their conversation, Alex notices that Sam only picks up one phone call for the rest of the match and diverts several calls to her voicemail. While the laptop on her lap stays open, she spends more time trying to find Ruby on the field.

“If I have to be honest, now that I’m actually watching the game I have no idea how it actually works. All I know is that Ruby is the center forward.”

Alex laughs a how charmingly clueless Sam explains herself. “I can help explain if you'd like?” she offers.

Sam smiles gratefully. “I would love that because the internet’s vast knowledge cannot explain soccer to me.”

Alex spends the rest of the game explaining the rules and positions as they come up. When a foul comes up against Ruby, Sam gets up to passionately dispute it. It only makes Alex laugh.

After the game is over Alex helps Sam pack up their lawn chair and lunch bag.

Ruby comes trotting over, bouncing with excitement to see Alex still there.

“Congratulations on the game,” Alex says, earning a happy hug from Ruby that nearly knocks her over. She’s caught off guard and looks over at Sam, who is equally surprised.

“Thanks for coming!” Ruby peels herself away before turning to hug her mom. “I saw you yelling and I was really surprised at you mom.”

“Why are you surprised?” Sam kisses the top of her daughter's head.

“I didn't think you knew anything about soccer.”

Alex snickers because Sam tries to fight the offended look off her face and fails terribly.

She scoffs at Ruby and playfully pushes her. “I had an expert explain the game to me,” she pointedly looks at Alex.

Alex feels the heat rush to her cheeks. The way Sam regards her is playful as it is welcoming. She’d mainly been Kara’s and Lena’s friend so she has to admit it feels different when Sam sends playful jabs her way.

Ruby smiles brightly at Alex that it warms her as well.

“Come on,” Sam gathers her laptop bag and Ruby’s duffel. “We can go home and celebrate your win.”

Ruby bites her lip before looking over her shoulder to the rest of the girls on the team. “Actually mom, do you think I can have some of the girls over?”

Sam looks both surprised and it quickly dissolves into a soft smile. “Sure thing, Rubes.”

Ruby looks relieved at her mom's response and instantly looks over at Alex. “Could Alex come over too?”

Alex is surprised now. “I don’t mind,” and they both look to Sam, “as long as you don't mind of course.”

Sam looks hesitant and Alex is about to say it's perfectly fine and make up an excuse to leave, but then she looks at Ruby, who stares at her hopefully. “The more the merrier,” she answers with a smile.

----

When Alex arrives about a half hour later because she said she’d stop to get some wine for the adults, Sam opens the door looking flushed and out of breath.

“Hey!” Sam greets, trying to catch her breath.

Alex glances Sam up and down. She’s still wearing the same clothes as earlier, but her hair is slightly mussed, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Hey?” Alex greets. “Is this a bad time?”

Sam’s eyes widen at her state. Her face is adorable and Alex can’t hold back a smile. “I’m so sorry.” She moves to let Alex into the house. “We don’t usually have company, so I sometimes let the house get a little disarray. But Ruby’s been making friends, better friends, and I just wanted to make sure everything is clean and ready for the girls.”

Alex enters the house, not entirely sure what to expect. To her surprise, the living room looks immaculate. There’s no dust, there’s no stains or dirt, everything is neatly organized. “Wow, this is such a mess,” she jokes sarcastically.

Sam lets out a light laugh in response. “I cleaned the living room first, which was a mistake because I spent way too much time and forgot about the other rooms in this house. I’m really sorry, you have to see this.”

Alex quirks her head. “It’s fine, Sam. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

“That’s really sweet of you Alex, but I have a stack of dishes and a stove to clean. Not to mention, I’m not sure if I bought enough drinks for the girls or snacks. Shoot! Snacks!”

The spiral that Sam starts manifesting very physically. Alex can see the pulse throbbing at Sam’s neck (not that she’s been staring, it’s just noticeable---her pulse not her neck) and the thin lines on her forehead as she starts to stress. She walks quickly as well, not realizing that she’s been leading Alex towards kitchen, one of the places she actually doesn’t want a guest to witness.

Just as she steps in, Sam does realize that Alex has been following her. She turns so quickly on her heels in the doorway that Alex doesn’t have time to stop and bumps right into her.

Suddenly, their faces are extremely close and their bodies would be pressed against each other, if it weren’t for the wine bottle. Not that the wine bottle helped much because the back of Alex’s hands grasping the neck is pressed into Sam’s chest. Alex usually has better reflexes that that.

“I’m sorry! Maybe, you should stay in the living room? Ruby will be done with her shower soon and it’s in a much better state than this,” Sam says quickly, completely unbothered by their lack of personal space.

Alex has the decency to take a step back, so she can breathe as well. She peers around Sam’s slim shoulders and sees the mess that she’s mortified of. She gets it. There are a surprisingly number of glasses and mugs littered across the counter and island for a household of two. She spies the leaning tower of dishes that are spilling onto the counter as well. It’s more than enough she needs to observe.

“Take this,” Alex holds out the wine bottle for Sam.

Sam takes it with confusion. Alex peels off her leather jacket and hands it to Sam. “What’re you--”

Alex takes step around Sam to get through the small doorway. “I’m going to help you, duh,” she rolls up her sleeves. “You might want to be a good host and put that wine on ice for us.”

Sam stares dumbly. “What? No, you’re my guest.”

“Lucky for you, I am one of the good kind of guests,” Alex says over her shoulder as she opens up the dishwasher. It’s completely empty. “Come on, don’t just stand there. You have a bunch of adolescent girls coming over.” She smiles at Sam, raising her eyebrows playfully.

Sam laughs to herself. “You are incredible. ”

----

They work together. And after Sam’s initial hesitation in letting Alex help, she relaxes visibly. Alex can see the tension slide off of her shoulders as Alex rinses the dishes to load into the dishwasher before, while Sam sweeps around her. They fall into a coordinated dance almost because Alex can tell when Sam is near and moves her hips and feet around for Sam to do her thing when she starts cleaning the counters. Sam is very insistent that she cleans the stove though, not that it bothers Alex. Alex finds a way to make herself useful.

“So food?” Alex asks.

“I ordered pizza, fries, and wings. I might have over ordered but they’re growing so it’ll be fine.”

“Plates and utensils?”

“In the top cabinet next to the fridge.”

Alex moves to pull them out and sets them down on the island. She turns to the fridge. “You mentioned drinks?” She opens it up and finds a moderately empty fridge. “No drinks?”

It dawns on Sam. “Oh god, I must’ve left them in the car.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ruby asks as she enters the kitchen. Her hair is still slightly damp, but she’s clean and out of her soccer uniform.

Sam immediately looks to her daughter. “I might’ve left the drinks and snacks in the car, do you mind grabbing those?”

Ruby nods. “Sure thing, mom.”

“I’ll help,” Alex offers, following Ruby out the back door.

Ruby grabs the keys and leads Alex outside. “Have you been helping my mom this entire time?”

“Yep.”

“I’m surprised she let you,” Ruby says as she pops open the trunk to the car in the driveway. “She kind of hates getting help from anyone that’s---you know, not me.”

“I kind of insisted,” Alex admits, feeling a bit sheepish. “Should I not have?”

“Part of me says no because she has like a method to her madness, but I really appreciate it.” Ruby pushes open the trunk and both of them find the bags.

Alex holds out her hands to help grab things and like her mother, Ruby doesn’t realize that Alex is actually there to help. There’s a surprised look on her face before she smiles and thanks her.

Alex and Ruby spend their time unloading the snacks and drinks talking about the game and Supergirl, while Sam works around them, making sure that everything that’s listed on her mind has been checked off. Just as she does that, Alex can’t help but smile because she sees Sam slowly relax; she gets to take a long breath just as the food arrives.

“Mom, you ordered for an army!”

“You are growing, you need all the food you can get.”

“But we’re not boys.”

“Does that mean you can’t eat?”

Ruby opens her mouth only to shut it and Sam stands there is a shit eating grin at her daughter. Alex laughs at their interaction.

Not long after the food arrives, several of Ruby’s teammates start to show up. They end up with a lot more snacks and food than they intended because some of them also contribute chips and dips leaving Sam overwhelmed.

----

“You and Ruby have a great relationship,” Alex says when they have a minute to hide in the kitchen. Well, Ruby ushers them out out once the girls start playing some board games and switch. Sam isn’t offended, giving her daughter some space but leaving her with a look to let her know immediately if something is wrong. Alex can’t help but notice the way Ruby nods seriously to her mom with a furtive glance over her shoulder.

Sam smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “We try.” She pulls out wine glasses from the cabinet before going to the fridge for the wine.

Alex takes a seat at the kitchen island and stares. “You’re a great mom, Sam.”

Sam raises her eyebrows and lets out a sarcastic, “Suuure.”

“You are.”

Sam opens her mouth to say something but instead she turns around to the drawer to pull out a wine opener.

“What?” Alex asks curiously. “Ruby loves you to pieces.”

Sam turns around with a small sigh. She clasps the wine opener between her hands, fiddling with it as she speaks. “If I’m being honest, sometimes I feel like she’s the one taking care of me.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alex tries.

Sam tilts her head, raising her eyebrows. “She’s a kid. She should just be a kid. She’s growing up too quickly. I feel like that’s my fault. I try to make sure she has everything she needs to be a kid but then some mornings I turn around to see her give me a piece of toast because I forgot to eat breakfast.”

Alex looks at Sam sympathetically. “It’s not a bad thing to take care of each other,” she reminds carefully. “It’s what family does.”

“Alex…” Sam doesn’t look like she believes her.

Alex stands up and meets her. “Have you forgotten that when Kara and I were teenagers, I lost my dad?”

“I’m sorry,” she lets out with guilt.

Alex smiles with reassurance. “It was hard for all of us. My mom had to take care of the two of us all on her own and she wasn’t the best mother all the time. Most of the time, Kara and I took care of each other and sometimes we took care of her too. There were plenty of cold meals my mom would have to eat if she got home late from the lab.”

Sam smiles down at the wine opener in her hands, clearly thinking of a similar memory. Alex ducks to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes meet hers and Alex can’t help but be mesmerized by the shimmering hazel color.

“The point is,” Alex says lightly, plucking the wine opener from Sam’s hand, fingers brushing very briefly that she feels a spark of electricity between them. She ignores it and turns to grab the bottle of wine. “Family is about taking care of each other. And it never hurts to have a helping hand every once in awhile.” She turns the corkscrew with ease and pops it out that it surprises Sam.

Sam bites her lips thoughtfully at Alex. “I might not always be receptive to your helpfulness, just to let you know. You caught me off guard today.” She reaches for the bottle of wine and her fingers close around Alex’s unconsciously.

Alex feels her throat dry because they’re close again. And once again, their in physical contact. “I don’t mind it at all,” she lets out softer than she intends to. She manages a small smile to lighten the mood.

Sam peels the bottle of wine out of Alex’s hand and glances at her while she pours their glasses. “I hope you know that I am very thankful for everything you’ve done for me to today.” She hands Alex a glass and picks up her own. She holds it in her hand as does Alex, because their eyes meet once more and they stand still. And just stare.

Alex hasn’t realizes how much of Sam she’s noticed throughout the day, but looks beautiful when she smiles without a care in the world, even though it’s short lived.

“Mom?”

Both of them turn their attention to Ruby standing in the doorway with a curious look on her face.

Sam clears her throat. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“We were going to start playing Mario Kart and wanted to know if either of you wanted to play?”

Sam smiles. “You know I’m terrible at that game.” There’s a small pout at Ruby’s lips at the mild rejection.

“Yeah and you shouldn’t be drinking and driving,” Alex jokes stepping backwards to go to Ruby. “Come on, I totally crush it at that game.” She throws an arm around Ruby’s shoulder comfortably and guides her back to the living room, throwing a glance over her shoulder. She tilts her head, encouraging Sam to follow at least.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Sam adds, grabbing the bottle of wine and following them.

----

At the end of the night when all of the girls are gone, it’s Sam and Ruby once more. Alex stays behind offering help to clean up. Sam is bamboozled when Ruby grabs onto Alex’s arm and starts directing her the minute she offers. There’s a gentle narrowing of her eyes, but she knows Ruby wants her mom to relax. Alex doesn’t mind it at all because she wants the same thing.

Sam cleans up the kitchen while Alex and Ruby clean the living room. She boils water and makes tea for Alex. Ruby oddly enough asks to go to her room to clean up because unlike her mother, she hadn’t decided on cleaning her private space. Alex and Sam stay in the kitchen, drinking tea and chatting about work. A brief moment where Alex can see that Sam, despite a mild derision of how much she has to work, she actually enjoys it. She finds it just as fulfilling when something goes the way its intended as much as she loves Ruby.

“Thanks for today,” Alex finds herself saying as she steps out onto the porch.

Sam shakes her head. “Thank you,” she emphasizes as she steps out, closing the door behind her. “Having you here today was really nice. You are really good with kids.”

Alex tries not to preen but she’s happy to hear that. “I’m glad you say that. I hope one day I’ll be a good mom like you.”

“Well if you ever want a kid, you can always have mine,” Sam jokes glancing back at her house.

Alex’s eyes widen because she knows it’s a joke but....

Sam quickly catches on.Her gently tan cheeks turn pink and it’s barely noticeable under the porch light, but Alex notices with how closely they’re standing. “I meant--Ruby. If you ever want to take my kid away, you could. Well, not like indefinitely, but if you ever wanted to hang out.” She stumbles over her words so quickly that Alex doesn’t feel awkward anymore. She laughs to catch Sam of spiraling once more. There’s a beautiful laugh from Sam as she tries to regain her composure. She facepalms herself before looking at Alex. “I usually wait for the third date to mention kids, so clearly I’m out of practice.”

Alex lets out an incredulous laugh. “Are you saying that this was a date?”

Sam blushes. Honest to god, blushes at the mention. Alex thought she was a nervous mess more than half of the time, but Sam seems to outdo her tonight unexpectedly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--I mean, we spent the day together, doing all this domestic stuff, and now we’re standing on my porch like the end of a romcom.”

Alex takes a breath. She’s noticed a lot of things about Sam today. Probably more than she should be privy to, but none of which she minds. And she tries to be calm, instead of a nervous wreck for Sam’s sake. “If this was a romcom, I’d kiss you goodnight and hop on my motorcycle while you watch me ride off,” she jokes in return.

Sam bites her lip and stops breathing. Alex can tell by the way her chest stops moving. Her eyes trail down, subtly, to Alex’s lips. Her eyes dart back up to meet Alex’s. Just as she leans in, the porch light flickers and they look up before they see the curtain move.

“Ruby,” Sam breathes out in disbelief.

Alex rubs the back of her neck nervously. “I should get going,” she offers, trying to make the situation easier for Sam.

Sam swallows with a nod. “Ride back safely.”

Alex nods in agreement before turning to step off the porch. “If you ever need me to spend time with Ruby while you’re busy with work, I’d be more than happy to,” she offers over her shoulder. "You're missing out on the best years of adulthood."

Just as Alex reaches the bottom of the steps, she feels a tug at her hand and turns to find Sam standing before her. Before she can even react, Sam’s hand comes up to cup her cheek and the same between them disappears when their lips press together. Of all the things she noticed about Sam today, Alex commits to memory how soft and pliant Sam’s lips are as they kiss. Sam knows how to kiss. Out of practice? Alex doesn’t think twice of that as she kisses Sam back. Their lips easily slide against each others in concert. Alex hand comes up to cup Sam’s warm cheek.

It starts so quickly, Alex expects it to end the same, but Sam pulls back slowly, drawing Alex towards her. It doesn’t register in her mind that they’ve stopped kissing until she has to breathe in.

“Wha--”

“Maybe when I’m not busy, you can spend time with me too,” Sam suggests, biting the corner of her lip as she smiles shyly. She glances up and down Alex before letting her go.

Alex stands in awe as her heart races inside of her. “I’d be more than happy to.” The smile on her face grows infinitely larger.

Sam walks back to her door and Alex walks over to her motorcycle, thumb brushing her lips. She mounts her bike and looks over to see Sam lingering at the door. Then she realizes what Sam’s waiting for. She smiles at Sam before pulling on her helmet.

Alex turns on her motorcycle and kicks off the stand. She gives one last look to Sam waving goodbye to her before riding off into the night.

Just like a romcom.