#I suppose it’s meant to show that whatever someone can do you physically matters Jack Shit as long as you have God.

[janusfranc15]

Oh this one is poignant and also very unnerving.

It’s the juxtaposition of something missing in a Painful Way and the person being in Ecstasy instead. The bloodless loss.

Adolfo Wildt Saint Lucy

partially gilt candoglia marble, 1929-31

[whump-town]

The Safe Side

No pairings

No warnings (surprising, I know)

Hotch is getting older and that scares the shit out of Reid

I probably wouldn't have finished this if not for @genevievedarcygranger

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

His only symptom is memory loss.

Reid sees it, he knows it. The symptoms he’s committed to his memory for better or worse dispelled so easily, so regularly before him but he can’t help but entertain his irrational fears. He’s not sure why. It would not be more comforting for Hotch’s occasional forgetfulness to be Alzheimer’s and not age and yet he waits for the moment that proves him wrong. For the phone call that Hotch is dressed for work and trying to get up to the bullpen. That they’ll lose him to anxiety and aggression, he’ll lose his temperament and comforting nature bit-by-bit until he’s broken down. And Reid will lose him too.

The good things become tainted by his fear.

At Christmas, they go to Rossi’s like they always do, and while the others dance to the music softly humming through the room Reid finds himself watching Hotch. Inspecting the grey hairs growing ever more along his temples, spread now through the rest of his hair. They age him appropriately but Reid can’t help but feel betrayed by their presence like he’s being taunted. No different from the reading glasses perched at the very edge of Hotch’s nose, the ones Hank lightly reaches up for. Old enough not to grab at them but still curiously taking a finger to trail their frames. Reid neglects his desire to be closer to them, to be drawn in by Hotch’s deep voice and the crackling fire soothing Hank to sleep. He stays where he is, hearing the ghosting bits of “Where The Wild Things Are” for the third time.

All he hears is science. Proof in the voice’s Hotch uses for each character -- “Oh, please don't go — I'll eat you up — I love you so!” -- that his language center had no inhibitions. The way Hank looks at Hotch when he bellows that line the first time, giggling and writing about when Hotch tickles him and squeezes him up tight so Hank can’t get away is lost to Reid for what it really is. That the spontaneous tickling and the reading mean other things. The love between them and Hank’s adoration for Hotch boiled down to symptoms Reid can prove Hotch doesn’t have.

Reid is terrified and it won’t let it up.

He finds himself panicking in Rossi’s backyard, surrounded by laughing people. Happy people who have no idea what his problem is. But he sweeps his over the clusters of chatting people and realizes that in all the groups he can’t find Hotch. Amidst them, he’s fairly easy to spot. Sticks to what he knows and who he’s most comfortable with. Diplomatic in that he makes sure he talks to everyone once but if he’s going to be someplace he’s not where he should be.

This is it, he tells himself. He’ll find Hotch confused, ambling about alone and where he shouldn’t be. Not sure where he is or why he’s here.

And then Reid turns around and finds Emily sitting with him on the porch swing. One of Hotch’s legs stretched out over the expanse of the porch, dark jeans a contrast to the concrete as he rocks them back and forth. Emily’s head on his shoulder and his arm around her back, a glass of wine passed between them. Neither saying a word as they watch the teams they built interacting with one another, families mixing together.

Reid can’t enjoy their smiles, the way they look out over everyone like proud parents.

Even his own birthday with books in a variety of languages sitting around him wrapped in an array of papers that so brilliantly display who their giver was. With his fingers tracing the one covered in newspaper, the one he knows is from Hotch, Reid is lost to this rot in the pit of his stomach. The sludge that fills his veins with tension. It leaves him the only person not smiling, with no idea what’s happening, when Garcia and Hotch stand over his cake fussing about which direction to light the candles. He misses the finger Hotch swipes through the icing and dollops right on Garcia’s nose. Looks up to watch Garcia retaliate with the same treatment but can’t enjoy it, can’t feel love or ease when the room erupts in laughter and Garcia and Hotch stand there with their icing-covered noses smiling at one another.

He finally finds the courage to mention it to someone, tells Morgan one afternoon when they both end up at Hotch’s house. Morgan is there fixing some wooden stakes in Hotch’s garden and Reid dropping off groceries. Hotch is sleeping off surgery medication, unaware of the hushed conversation being had outside.

“Kid,” Morgan can see it. The terror eating Reid alive. “They just hacked him apart and put him back together, all right? He’s on some strong shit right now. He’ll be fine in a day or two. You’ll see.” Morgan tells him not to worry about it, Hotch has been knocked around his entire life. Nearly sixty years of severe blows to the head and if he manages to walk out of this life with just a sketchy memory then he’s getting off lucky.

But when Hotch stands for too long in a room trying to remember what he was doing or when he can’t provide an answer for how much coffee he’s had or if he needs eggs or if he had the last bowl of oatmeal this morning it scares the shit out of Reid.

Really, Hotch is fine.

Hotch had to write his doctor’s appointments down and he’s constantly needing some sort of surgery to fix whatever old injury is coming back to remind him of his previous offense but he’s his normal actively grouchy self. He never forgets to stop by Reid’s apartment Thursday around noon or his promise to get Henry and Hank from school when no one else can.

That doesn’t mean no one worries about him.

He would hate to know the collapse wasn’t when they started taking note of his fragile health.

Two weeks after his forty-fifth birthday he pulled a muscle in his chest (moving the couch so Jack could get a Hotwheels out from underneath) and JJ had watched him pause during his coffee run to press his palm into the strain. Her mind had filtered through a hundred scenarios to explain the behavior and they’d all ended with his death. Hotch is the kind of person with a puzzle piece life, whose pieces are spread out over the course of years, meant to be collected and put together by only the most detail-oriented. She knew his father had died of a heart attack and Reid only served to reiterate that fact. It was only a pulled muscle but, not for the first time, she felt utterly terrified of how much losing him would hurt.

There’s a string of these awful moments when his humanity, his mortality, is right there for them to witness. And, as strong as they’d like to believe themselves to be, they look away.

He’s fine now, all things considered.

The janky memory thing isn’t all that bad. He has milked it on more than one occasion. It’s how he keeps missing his physical therapy. Although, that has come around to bite him in the ass. He’s supposed to be using this cane they gave him and now someone shows up every week to take him to the appointment so he can’t even play it off like he’s forgotten. Typically it’s Emily or Derek but Garcia’s shown up and Reid even took him once. It’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that there are roughly thirteen people who he might run into in public who know he’s supposed to be using the cane and who will inquire about it or bring it up to someone else.

He hadn’t realized just how many people could get on his case until he’d run into Matt’s wife in the store and after having their brief, polite conversation where he mentioned Reid had called him not that long ago asking for advice on the BAUs current case, she asked about his knee. She said Garcia had been fretting over this last surgery he had and told her about it, she hadn’t thought that much time had passed. Was surprised he was back on his feet. It had taken six hours for him to get the phone call from Garcia and then Emily came over an hour later begging him to just “for the sake of my fucking sanity, Hotch, take it easy”. That’s when Garcia sat down and made him a calendar and he lost his say in matters of his grocery shopping and responsibility to take himself to doctor’s appointments.

He’s since won back grocery shopping. His doctor wrote him a note and Garcia conceded. She’s not stupid enough to toss their schedule for his doctor’s appointments though.

So, though he loathes it, he takes the cane with him when he leaves the house.

He’s learned his lesson. Penelope Garcia is one scary-ass lady who has far more control over him and everyone else than he’d care to realize.

Hotch hears the doorbell, muffled though it is, from outside. He’d known getting down on the ground was a bad idea with the way his knees have been hurting but he’s got zucchini and cucumbers laying out in the sun and while he ignored them yesterday, he knows he need to get them out today. Reid had expressed interest in them and Rossi’s likely to want the zucchini. He also knows Derek offered to take care of this sort of stuff but it’s a too warm Sunday morning and Derek’s likely chasing around a happy toddler.

Besides, he doesn’t have enough tomatoes to compensate for Derek’s work. That being said Derek would come over and do it regardless, he doesn’t mind.

“It’s about to rain,” Reid informs him the second he gets to the door. Hotch watches Reid’s eyes flick to his empty left hand, to the curve of his limp palm where his cane is supposed to be. Unlike the others, Hotch knows Reid will not say anything directly to him. Emily might ask where the cane is and Garcia would insist on going to get it but Reid will just anxiously flicker back and forth between Hotch’s face and his hand. Twisting and worrying until Hotch gets it himself. Which is surprisingly effective.

Hotch hums his agreeance, he could smell it in the air. Can tell it’s going to be a good storm with the shift and strength of the wind coming in. It’ll cool things off for a few hours then bring back the humidity and the mosquitoes with a vengeance.

“Do you think” Reid follows Hotch into the kitchen. He’s careful to keep a distance, not to push Hotch’s pace. He mills about in odd places to compensate their gates, looks at the book sitting on Hotch’s coffee table. “Do you think it’s going to rain a lot?” He’s a genius with the means to figure that out on his own and likely he already knows what he thinks the answer is. Hotch’s opinion is still important.

Hotch is in the fridge, rustling bags around as he finds the bag of vegetables he’s got set aside for Reid. He’s weird about fruits and vegetables, worries about bacteria and things but will eat a Poptart for every meal if given the chance. The logic is irrational but after twenty years of worrying about Reid’s diet, Hotch has finally found a solution to this particular problem.

“No tomatoes,” Hotch promises as he hands the bag over to Reid.

Reid nods, “I don’t like tomatoes.”

“I know.”

Reid takes his bag, smiles as he thinks about what things he can make with what he’s been given. “How much do you think it’ll rain?” he asks again.

Hotch hums, having heard Reid the first time. “It’ll be a good storm,” he figures, “might take out the electricity.” He only adds the last bit as a warning. Reid’s scared of the dark, a fact exacerbated by big storms that knock out the electricity. A common occurrence but no less startling.

“Oh.” Reid worries his lip, looks to the ground and everywhere but where Hotch is.

It’s likely to start soon, the winds really picking up and the sun’s drowned out by thick, rolling clouds. The storm of the century it’s likely not. Hotch doubts it’s even the sort people pull over on the side of the road to wait out but he decides to think it might anyway. Decides to tap Reid’s elbow and motion for him to follow, “come on.” He’s not even really sure where he’s going but it’ll lend a distraction. “Wait out the storm,” Hotch tells him, glancing back to make sure Reid’s following. “I wanna show you something.”

They spend the storm in his office, leaning over an old law school textbook. Reid has an affinity for them. No matter how many times Hotch uses them for a distraction, pulling them down from their dusty shelves, Reid still takes to them like it’s the very first time. He’ll sit for hours reading over the information but, his favorite parts, are how Hotch they are.

The notes he’s scribbled in the margins. Flashes of yellow highlighter. A coffee stain or smudge where his palm moves against not yet dried ink. Notes for cases or classes. Pages he’s dog-eared. They’re lived in, nearly perfect condition biographies. Of course, Reid gravitates to them.

By the time the storm rolls over Reid realizes he’s been alone in the office for hours. Sheepishly, he gets up and looks around. Makes his way through Hotch’s house until Reid finds him on the couch. As soon as Hotch sees him he takes off his reading glasses, placing a bookmark in his book and raising his eyebrow to inquire if Reid needs something.

“I should probably get going.”

Hotch doesn’t miss how suddenly bashful Reid gets, the way he looks down at the floor. “If you’d like,” Hotch won’t encourage him to leave. He spends a lot of time alone. He doesn’t mind have someone floating around. But Reid’s decided he’s overstayed his welcome so he moves cautiously towards the door. Taking his time because he knows Hotch will see him out.

“Be careful,” Hotch tells him as he opens himself up for a hug and Reid flushes a little under the attention but still steps into Hotch’s arms. Hotch gives him the bag of vegetables and frowns at the state of Reid’s hair. “Stop worrying so much,” Hotch fusses and they’re both aware of how parental his tone has gotten as frowns. He can see grey hairs here and there. Maybe not as present as his but there. “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever’s worrying you so much?”

Reid freezes, confused. Ordinarily, he’d give in, Hotch always fixes things but not this time. “I’m okay,” Reid promises.

Hotch doesn’t believe him but Reid’s an adult and Hotch knows when he’s needed Reid will know where to find him. All he can hope is that Reid comes to him if he really needs help. “Alright.”

They nod once more and Reid steps out but he’s not halfway down the driveway when Hotch shouts “I meant it, be careful driving home!”

Reid stops where he is, struck by the oddness of this situation. He made it his entire childhood without this sort of thing. His mother cared that he got home but he didn’t have friends to be out with. Never needed to stop and figure out how to call home and tell her he’d be home late. Now he’s lost his mother and he’s lost Gideon.

And he’s terrified he’ll lose Hotch next.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” he offers, feels silly the second it comes out of his mouth. Like Hotch would care enough for that. Like Hotch won’t be bothered with him texting him. Like Hotch is going to sit there and wait for the text.

Hotch narrows his eyes, “you’d better.”

Because Hotch will sit there and wait for the text.

“Yes, sir.”

Hotch is fine but Reid will keep watching just to be on the safe side.

[violetwolfraven]

2/2 Still me! That last thing, And/or Some good ol' platonic Ralbert! Honestly, I have no specific ideas but I'm also not picky! Anything where we can see our boys loving and supporting eachother in a good healthy platonic relationship is a wonderful thing if you ask me!

Platonic ralbert coming right up! Unfortunately this turned a little angsty on me but whatever. Joke’s on me for thinking I have the capability to not be a dramatic little shit and not run with the first semi-angsty idea I get, I guess.

Also I hope you don’t mind that I’m including background redfinch and sprace in here, but it’s mostly platonic ralbert. This takes place a few months before canon. I will probably write a followup redfinch thing, but you might wanna send an ask cause I’m pretty busy and I’ll probably forget lol. Anyway, enjoy. :)

...

Race knew that something was wrong when Albert plopped down on the end of his bed, staring at the bottom of his bunk above.

“Albie?”

It took a five count for Albert to look over at him, and Race was alarmed to see pain in his eyes.

Putting the book he’d borrowed from Specs (which surprisingly wasn’t boring) aside, Race scooted closer to his best friend, poking him in the side to make him sit up.

“What’s wrong?”

Albert pulled his legs up onto the bunk, sitting criss-cross applesauce, “Promise not to laugh?”

“Albie, you once caught me sneakin’ into the Lodging House at 2 AM with 6 stolen shirts and half a loaf of stale bread. You haven’t paid for your papes in a week and I know for a fact that ya ain’t told your dad where you really got that hat ya gave him for his birthday.”

Albert smirked, “I stole it from Oscar Delancey.”

“I know,” Race said, “That’s my point. We both pull a lot of shit and we both know about all the shit each other pulls. We have no ability to judge each other. So, what’s up?”

He was still hesitating, so Race sighed.

“Yes, I promise not to laugh. What is it?”

“What does it feel like when you’re with Spot?” Albert blurted.

Race was, honestly, kind of caught off guard.

“What?”

“I know ya like him,” Albert said pointedly, “Like that. I know ya have feelin’s for him. If ya didn’t, you wouldn’t be with him. I know you better than just about anyone, Race. That’s how I know how gone ya are for Conlon.”

This... wasn’t like Albert. Sure, he was known as the resident Causer of Chaos, but he was 100% serious, here. He was seriously asking about how Race felt about Spot.

This was especially weird considering... considering a while ago, Race had rejected Albert on the account that he didn’t feel that way about him. And even knowing it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if he pretended he did, it had made Race uncomfortable, knowing he’d caused his best friend pain.

Albert never asked about Spot. He knew they were a thing, kind of, but whenever they hung out, they both usually tried to pretend that romance didn’t exist, just talking about other things and daring each other to do dumb shit. That was their normal.

So why was he changing it now?

“I don’t see why that’s your business,” Race said at last, when he found his voice.

Albert groaned, “Oh, believe me. I don’t need details ‘bout... that. Just... why do ya like him? What does that part feel like?”

Race was super confused. Besides the fact that talking about this wasn’t their normal, it didn’t seem like jealousy. And yet it felt heavier than plain old gossip, too.

“Albie,” he said slowly, “What’s this about?”

Albert wouldn’t meet Race’s eyes as he took a deep breath, speaking quietly.

“I don’t know what love feels like. And you’s the only person who’s in love that I trust enough to talk ‘bout this.”

Race was now even more confused, but he focused on the part that he could understand.

“You don’t know what love feels like?”

Albert groaned, “It’s just... it’s stupid! My dad and my brothers was never real... touchy-feely... with me. I knows I care ‘bout them, even though they’s been real distant ever since I can remember, but that makes me confused, cause honestly I care ‘bout you, and Jack, and the others more. I’d die for all you’s, and I know family’s supposed to come first, but the fellas feel more like family than my real family, so... so I know how that feels.”

Race nodded, “Yeah. I get that. Just cause it ain’t the romantic type don’t mean that ain’t love, Albie.”

“But it’s different! I know ‘cause... ‘cause I remember what I felt for you.”

Race took a deep breath. The awkward tension rising right now was why they never talked about this.

“Well... yeah, it’s different. Bein’ sweet on someone ain’t like lovin’ ‘em like a sibling.”

“Yeah, but...” Albert made a frustrated sound, “There’s somethin’ else, too, and it’s like that, but different. And I don’t wanna call it love if it ain’t, but... I don’t know what it is.”

Oh. So that was why he was asking this.

God, Race was an idiot. He did miss a lot of gossip, spending his days in Brooklyn, but he would’ve thought he wouldn’t miss something as big as his best friend falling in love.

That was on him. He had a couple guesses as to who it was, but he should have been paying more attention to Albert these last couple months. He’d know for sure if he had.

“Spot’s...” he shrugged, “It’s like... I talk a lot, right?”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

“Shut up. With Spot, it’s like he gets it. Whatever I’m ramblin’ about, he knows what to say back. He can keep up with me, and sometimes, it’s like... I don’t have to ramble with him. Cause he already understands the point I’m tryin’ to make, even if I don’t understand it. And there’s somethin’ in how he don’t show his cards to anyone, but he shows ‘em to me. He drops his guard with me.”

Albert snorted, “What, so Spot Conlon ain’t actually the tough badass he pretends to be?”

“No, he’s definitely still a badass. But he’s got a soft side, too. Most outside of Brooklyn just don’t get to see it. That’s why it matters so much that I do. I can tell that he trusts me. And I can trust him, too.”

Albert stared at the floor for a couple seconds.

Then he huffed, “That don’t help at all.”

Race rolled his eyes, “Albie, ya ain’t gonna get a better explanation than that. It ain’t somethin’ that’s simple.”

Clearly, Albert had been hoping it was, but Race wasn’t sure if he could ask who it was his best friend was so messed up over, because it clearly wasn’t him anymore.

“How do ya know he loves ya back?”

Race froze, because to be honest...

He didn’t. He knew Spot cared, in his own guarded, careful way, but he wasn’t sure if it was as strong as what Race was feeling for him.

“Ya never really know,” he admitted, “Not unless he actually tells you.”

Albert took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking a bit as he did.

“I think I’m in love with Finch.”

“Oh my...” Race scoffed, “How did I not see that?”

“I didn’t let ya,” Albert pointed out, “And him and I... we ain’t... together, exactly. But we’s been gettin’ closer lately and... I think I love him, Race. I just don’t know.”

Race put his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, tugging him in for a hug that he didn’t seem to know what to do with.

“Albie, if ya think you love him, you owe it to yourself to find out for sure.”

“But ain’t that unfair to him if I don’t?”

“You said you weren’t sure if he loved ya back,” Race pointed out.

“Yeah, but...”

“Al, I know ya thought I didn’t notice, but you sulked for weeks after... what happened. You’s been happier lately, and now I’m thinkin’ that might be because of Finch. The fact that you’re more worried ‘bout you hurtin’ him than him hurtin’ you says a lot. I can’t say what you feel for sure, but for what it’s worth...”

Race squeezed him one more time, letting go, “I’m happy for you.”

Albert took another deep breath, “I’m happy for you, too.”

That meant a lot. Though Race would do what he wanted whether Albert approved or not, he definitely appreciated him saying he did.

“Seriously,” Albert said, shoving him in the shoulder, “I ain’t seen you as happy as ya are with Spot... well, ever. You never woulda found that with me. I’m happy ya did with him.”

“I don’t know if he feels the same,” Race admitted, “I mean, I know he cares, cause we’s been friends a long while, but...”

“Ya love him and you don’t know if he loves you back?”

Race nodded, “Yeah. Guess I deserve it, though, after what I did to you.”

“Hey. That was different. You made it clear you didn’t love me and refused to start anythin’ cause of that. If Spot doesn’t love ya, he’s been leadin’ ya on. Worse than that—he’s been usin’ ya.”

Race would be lying if he said that wasn’t something he worried about sometimes.

Well, he didn’t think Spot was the type to use someone like that, but...

What if this was just ‘friends with benefits’ to him? After all, it wasn’t like they’d ever actually talked about what they were. When they made out, it was all physical. They weren’t doing much talking during that. And when they did talk, it was always about other things. In front of other people, they were nothing more than friends.

Albert patted his knee, “Well, if he hurts ya, I’ll beat his ass.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Then you’ll have to avenge me, and you stand even less of a chance than I do in a fight, and then we’ll both be dead. We can be ghosts together. We’ll haunt his ass.”

Race slapped his best friend in the arm, “Let’s go back to your problem. ‘Bout how you’re gonna get the boy.”

“But...” Albert sighed, “I barely know how I feel. How can I know what he feels?”

He was obviously stalling, but Race decided not to point that out just now. He threw an arm around his friend.

“Look. Albie. That’s a risk you’re gonna have to take. But for what it’s worth, you’s the bravest guy I know. Except maybe Jack. And Crutchie. And does Smalls count? She’s a girl, so I can’t say she’s the bravest guy, but—“

Albert shoved him, laughing, “Shut up.”

“But seriously, you’re willin’ to fight Spot Conlon for me and you’re scared of a little rejection? C’mon, Albie.”

“Oh, I will fight any kid in this city,” Albert declared, “Plenty of adults, too. Fightin’ ain’t a problem. It’s simple. Feelin’s are... messy.”

“Yeah, but you can do this, Al! You’s one of the bravest guys I know. And Finch? He’s queer, cute, and clearly cares ‘bout ya. I’ll admit I didn’t notice before, but thinkin’ back, I’d say he’s probably at least interested.”

Albert stood up, finally looking Race in the eye. He looked nervous, but ready.

“I’m gonna go get the boy.”

“Fuck yeah! Go get that boy!”

He looked like he was going to leave, then hesitated, “I should probably figure out what to say first.”

“No!” Race insisted, “You’ll just chicken out! Go! Go now, Al! Go get your boy!”

“He’s not my—“

“And he won’t be if ya don’t go get him!”

Race slapped his best friend in the butt to get him towards the door.

“Alright, I get it! God, Race! I’m goin’!”

“Well ya ain’t goin’ fast enough!”

He kept shoving until Albert was clear out the door and both of them were laughing.

“Go!” Race exclaimed one more time, shoving him away.

“Thanks so much for the one good piece of advice ya actually gave me!” Albert called sarcastically, “And Race?”

“Are you gonna go, or not?”

Albert put his hands up, “I’m goin’! Jeez! It’s just... if I’m tellin’ Finch, you should tell Spot. He’s King of Brooklyn, and... well, I even ain’t heard rumors of him bein’ with anyone else, so I don’t think you’d be as close to him as you are if he didn’t feel the same way.”

Race nodded, having no intention of actually following that advice, “Maybe. I’ll think on... does this mean we can talk ‘bout boys now?”

Albert rolled his eyes, “If this goes well, we can talk about whatever you want. If not, you’re buyin’ the booze.”

Race grinned, “Fair.”

Well, whatever way this went, it should be interesting.

[coplins]

(1/3) Thanks for responding. I totally see the queerbaiting/kill your gays criticism - it's clear from Misha's comments after the fact that he really thought he was doing something supportive and didn't get how it was the opposite. I wasn't upset with ignoring Eileen because that whole plot was so badly written, and I didn't mind blurry wife because that was a story they'd never have time to tell, so leaving it to be your choice of wife/co-parent (Jared's words) worked for me.

(2/3) I don't see Dean's lack of reciprocation as a problem because Jensen and the showrunners have continuously said that is not their intent in writing/acting that character, so anything folks read into it is subtext. Again, Misha thought it would be better rep than it was. It was a bad call. John isn't canonically a child abuser, just a lousy parent. Both Dean and Sam have done so many crappy things as well that honestly, they shouldn't be there by that metric either. 3/4) But I don't think the finale (awkwardly written as it was) cancels out their character development at all. They are different people - back at the starting point, but not the men they were when they started. Dean is emotionally open; he's dropped acting tough and can talk about his emotions. He can be alone and be okay. Sam is no longer afraid of his blood or turning into John; he can be a good dad. I wish we'd seen Jack and Cas, or heard them at least wish them well, even just a prayer. (4/4) But even though that was crappy to leave out, I don't think it negates the show or the characters. 19 added Cas and Jack's names to the table, and I can be happy with that as the final episode. I was prepared to pretend it didn't exist before it even aired. I AM really glad you're anti-harassment. The shit that even folks like Kripke have been getting on their pages has made me so sad. Dabb posted something about baboons and folks even thought it was about them, not his new show! (Also, sorry to dump like a huge text thing in your inbox. It's totally fine that we disagree on things. I've just seen so many crazy things like people blaming Jared and saying the episode was an ad for Walker and to boycott Walker - a ton of Jared hate in general, really. Or saying Jensen "Destiel Isn't Real" Ackles is secretly a heller who's been viciously silenced by the powers that be for years. And now Misha's getting dogpiled for trying to interact and understand how he fucked up.)

It's fine, Nonnie. :)

Okay, so, just to make one thing clear. If you enjoyed the finale, then I think it's great. For everyone who didn't get their joy sucked out of them, that's awesome! I got to see the Wincest side of my Tumblr dash go apeshit from happiness and I'm happy for them. I've since had to unfollow some of those blogs when they turned bitter and hateful towards those of us who didn't like the ending. I curate my Tumblr (internet in general) experience to avoid seeing hate thrown at ships, actors, characters, fans, or people in general. I unfollow people if they post too much toxic stuff no matter if they're Destiel shippers, angel fans, or whatever part of fandom they're in.

I try not to reblog too much angry/bitter crap either. There are a lot of posts on my dash that I wholeheartedly agree with but don't belong on my blog. And I've written my share of wank and rants over the years but seldom hit post because I don't want to ruin someone else's positivity. When I do hit post I tag it "spn wank" so it can be avoided. If I need to angry-rant I do so in chat. Sometimes I mess up. There are undoubtedly some less than nice posts in the Buckleming wank category on my blog.

Generally speaking, my M.O. is disengaging and/or vote with my wallet. I will never condone cyberbullying. No matter how famous the person, or how nasty they are, harassment isn't okay. Actions have consequences and I try to think of what they are before I act. If I vent hurtful opinions about an actor, it'll be kept in chat, with someone who understands that particular frustration. (Not related to the current situation.)

When it comes to canon, it doesn't matter what showrunners or actors tell us about how it's meant to be interpreted or how they meant to act it. Canon is what's shown on screen, period. As curious as I am about what the actors have to say about things, it isn't important regarding canon at all. I'll stan my boys no matter what their characters get up to on-screen. <3

Yeah, I've seen the theories and the dogpiling. Luckily, I've avoided seeing the Jared hate but I knew it would be there because the internet is a cesspool of people lashing out aimlessly or misdirecting their anger. Even IF they wrote the finale in a way that they thought would put a spotlight on Jared's upcoming series, HE was nowhere near a position of power to make that decision and should be left out of it. I just figured, if it was true that that's what they thought, then the Wincest bunch was their target audience for the new show. *shrug*

Interesting to hear your take on the finale. If I follow people who have your take, they're not vocal about it, or I'm simply missing it because I don't stalk Tumblr. All it takes for me to stop scrolling and go back to my writing is 3 unknown anime posts in a row or one reader-insert fic and I'm nope-ing the hell out of here. X)

I'm not going to argue against any of your points. It's great that you saw it that way. Fuck, I wish I did too.

I kinda feel like I need to address the child abuse comment I made, though. Some separate neglect and abuse like those aren't the same, some only count physical abuse, others include verbal abuse. Too many of my loved ones (both close friends and family) have experienced all three of those categories and the one who was left alone to care for her little sister as a child, definitely has a lot of mental scarring from it, so I'm counting neglect as abuse. That said, I fucking love John Winchester. So it might be Jeffrey Dean Morgan's charisma, so sue me. But John canonically neglected the hell out of his sons. We got proof of that even in this season when John drops his son off for days in a town where kids have gone missing recently. So, yeah... But, on the other hand, of course both he and Mary should end up in Heaven. Like, that wasn't even a question.

I think my strong reaction against it was how every part of the found family the Winchesters had gathered over the years was erased from the narrative as soon as Dean died. The only one who is shown as important is Bobby, a found-family member that initially was connected with John, not someone the brothers had found and connected with on their own. Bobby is also the only non-Winchester in the photos Sam has over his bed when he's dying. I don't know, man, "Everyone's here," simply doesn't do it for me.

"Family ends with blood" like the finale implied, only works if the greatest monsters in life haven't been family members, and my best friends (twins) growing up, just like my mother, were abused, mentally, physically, and sexually, by parents. I've seen the aftermath of those hellfires, how long it takes to assemble the fractures of your being and become, if not whole, at least functional and happy. For them, it was the friends they made along the way, those who loved them when they couldn't, who really mattered.

And that was one thing I really loved about SPN (and still do). Team Free Will. Wayward Sisters. All the people that they met along the way and connected with. I've loved to see Sam and Dean develop their bond by taking it from unhealthy, destructive co-dependency to step by step with several setbacks become their own individuals with lives outside of each other, yet still having the strong bond full of brotherly feels where the love they had for each other was rooted in respect for each other's differences and not who they "were supposed to be for each other". And unlike you, I can't see anything but regression in how the finale played out.

Okay, I gotta stop talking now. ^^ I have one scene my betas told me I need to rewrite in my next chapter, and another chapter half done, and I'm itching to post so I need to get on with it.

I hope I didn't put too much of a dampener on your enjoyment of the finale. My opinions don't matter. We all come from different life experiences and therefore find different things compelling and important. I don't begrudge anyone their happiness. <3

*Hugs*

[wherepoetswentodie]

Hiii, this is part of the fic that I’m working on atm that I’m uploading because I crave validation and also feel guilty when I don’t upload anything 

~~~~~

At 18 years old, Kevin Price didn’t know who he was, but he knew who he was meant to be.

He was meant to be loyal to his Church and his family. He was meant to drive his younger sister, Grace, to and from dance practice and make sure that his younger brother, Jack, was behaving when they were in Church (he almost always wasn’t). He was meant to get straight As in all of his classes (which he did), volunteer at an animal shelter when he wasn’t working a terrible minimum wage job at Target and being the most supportive little brother in helping his eldest brother plan his wedding - which was extremely boring, because Kevin couldn’t bring himself to care about the colour of the ties. 

Strangely enough, it was at Target that Kevin began to realise things about himself. It was actually in the parking lot of said Target that he had his first kiss - with a boy. 

Kevin had first got to know Brad Copeland when they were 16; one of the few non-Mormons at his school and someone who had always known exactly who he was and where he was going. He had told Kevin exactly who he was when he had been showing Kevin around on his first day of the job.  

“I’m going to cosmetology school once I finish High School,” Brad cheerfully told him, “I’m also gay, if you didn’t work that out from, you know...” he gestured vaguely to himself. 

“Uh, yeah,” Kevin said awkwardly, “Anyway, um...the - the cash registers...” 

It had scared Kevin at first, seeing someone so openly themselves, but then he had started to relax around him. Hesitantly whispering that yeah, that customer is cute, even when the customer in question was a boy and even letting Brad practice by painting his nails (though the varnish was swiftly removed before Kevin went home). 

And he supposed that’s how he ended up with having a boyfriend without even realising that he had a boyfriend. (Deep down, Kevin knew that there was nothing platonic about anything that he and Brad did together, but he had never been one to really dive deep into his feelings). 

Brad was the only person who really understood Kevin, probably much better than he understood himself. He knew things about Kevin that no one else did; he knew that he liked to be the little spoon and that he didn’t really understand the scripture that he was so good at mindlessly repeating. 

And being Catholic, Brad wasn’t much help when Kevin tried to work out why Joseph Smith didn’t just show everyone the golden plates and stop people questioning if he was telling the truth or not. 

“Maybe they were too heavy for him to pick up,” Brad suggested. 

“What?” Kevin asked, turning around on his desk chair to stare at him, half confused at what he had just said, and half confused as to why he was curled up in his bed like he was in his own house. Not that Kevin really minded him being in his bed, he was just more concerned about the fact that he was meant to be applying to colleges and was very obviously not doing that. 

Brad shrugged and pulled Kevin’s blanket tighter around him, “I’m Catholic, I’m still trying to work out how the Holy Spirit wrote the Bible. I thought it wasn’t a physical thing.” 

Kevin snorted, “When was the last time you went to Church?” 

“I dunno, I think when my Grandma died when I was like 10?” 

“It’s been 8 years!” 

“At least one of us can do math,” 

Kevin tutted and turned back to his Book of Mormon, clicking his pen. He was having one of those days where he couldn’t focus on what he was reading because he was far too distracted by the boy in his bed - and for all the wrong reasons. 

“I’m going to break your hand!” Brad exclaimed, “stop clicking your damn pen,” 

“Dang,” Kevin corrected, standing up from his chair and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Brad rolled his eyes and tugged on Kevin’s arm a little, “When are your family going to be home?” 

“Two or three hours probably,” Kevin said, tugging his arm out of Brad’s grip in favour of taking his hand. 

“So, come cuddle me,” Brad said. 

“Needy,” Kevin mumbled, curling up next to him anyway. 

Brad laughed and slid his arms around Kevin’s middle, pulling him closer. Kevin closed his eyes against the shouting in his head that was telling him he was going to Hell and tried to stay in the moment; the gentle puffs of Brad’s breath blowing through his hair, the hands running up and down his back and the fact that, for a short time, he could let go and be who he wanted to be - no matter how much it scared him. 

“I’m really glad you’re my boyfriend, Kevin,” 

Kevin’s eyes shot open and he looked up at Brad, his heart suddenly beating uncontrollably fast. 

“B-Boyfriend?” Kevin said, “I’m your boyfriend?” 

“We make out all the time,” Brad said with a giggle, “and you literally took me out on a date last week,” 

Kevin smiled and closed his eyes again; the shouting in his head had just gotten that little bit louder, but he could still just about block it out and focus on Brad tangling their legs together and him pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“You know, my brother is getting married in like six months,” Kevin muttered. 

“I know,” Brad said, “Getting married at 22 is a bit much, isn’t it?” 

Kevin shrugged, “I don’t know, that’s probably when I’ll get married,” 

Brad pulled back slightly and looked down at him, a small smile playing on his lips, “What, you think it’s going to be legal then?” 

Kevin frowned and wiggled out of Brad’s arms, sitting back against the headboard. 

“It’s already legal?” Kevin said. 

“No, it isn’t,” Brad said, talking very slowly, “It’s illegal for two men to get married, Kevin. Gay marriage isn’t a thing,” 

Kevin scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m not gay,” 

“No, I know you’re bi, but I think it’s still called a gay wedding even if-” 

“I’m straight,” Kevin said firmly.

“Straight?” Brad laughed, “In what world are you straight?” 

“I can’t be gay or bi,” 

“Gay marriage being illegal doesn’t make being gay illegal, Kev,” 

“I’m LDS! It might as well be!” Kevin snapped. 

“You know there’s more to you than being LDS, right?” 

“No, there isn’t,” Kevin said firmly, “but I don’t need to be more. I’m already enough as it is. Heavenly Father will reward me in the afterlife when I get to live with my eternal family,” 

“So you can’t be gay but you can act like you’re my boyfriend?” Brad asked furiously, “I get that we can’t be out to your parents, but we can be out to each other, can’t we?” 

Kevin jumped up out of bed and shook his head, “You don’t get it!” 

“Whatever, Kev,” Brad snapped, shoving past him and slamming the door shut behind it. 

Kevin stared at the space that Brad had been lying in moments before until everything clicked into place and the reality of what he was doing clicked into place. He snatched his phone off the bed and deleted Brad’s number. He sat back down at his desk and ripped open his Book of Mormon, flicking through to the verse that always made him feel better when he felt like God was actually going to smite him. 

“But as oft as they repented and sought forgiveness with intent, they were forgiven,”

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 21: Shattered - Legless On Maim Chap.1 - One, Two, Three...Oh Ancients That’s A Lot Of Broken Bones

Danny gets hurt a lot, eventually that had to land him in the hospital. And Lewis always ends up with the weird patents.

*Note: This wasn’t supposed to be a crossover. It just decided it had to be one halfway through.

It had always been a bit of a running joke just how bad Jack Fenton’s driving was. Many even saying that so long as he was behind the wheel, any vehicle could defy the laws of both gravity and reality...and the rules of the road. Which meant that everyone always got out of their way, cops included. The Fenton RV taking impossible turns and breaking 300mph was just a part of Amity Park.

So it was normalised, comfortable. Everyone lulled into the mindset that the Fenton’s were somehow immune to car crashes or that their RV was functionally indestructible. And at least they wore seat belts right? Okay, they usually wore them anyway.

Which is why, when the cops and ambulances were called out to a massive car pile-up, everyone was stunned stupid to see the eccentric family’s RV torn in half in what could only be described as a car massacre. Thirty or thirty-five, it was hard to say, vehicles strewn over the road; most damaged horribly. There’s body’s laying all over the road and limbs sticking out around twisted metal. Screaming and crying filling the air, with the less injured trying to help out the worse off. Paramedics start running everywhere, as the cops get the area closed off and join in helping victims.

If it wasn’t for how used to the Fenton’s the town was, everyone would have likely been incredibly shocked and paused; as Jack Fenton deadlifts and throws half of the massive RV. What does cause shock, is him being splattered in blood. No one having ever seen either Fenton with blood on them; or the daughter for that matter. It was just the boy that could occasionally be caught a bit bloodied and beaten.

Which is why Todd, a paramedic who honestly hasn’t had enough sleep, isn’t surprised as he rushes over to the bloodied and oversized man; easily telling it isn’t his own blood. Pushing Jack out of the way to stop the man from touching the, definitely injured, boy. Who’s caked so heavily that it’s impossible to tell who he is, which is why Todd is very surprised as the kid groans and tries to sit up.

Jack stammers barely above a whisper, “D-Danny-boy?”.

Of course, it was the son, great. Todd looks the kid over as he pushes the kid's shoulder to stop him from moving, “son, you need to stay still”.

“‘M fine”, based on how the kids speech is slurred and he’s shaking his head to clear it, he definitely is not fine.

Todd completely ignores his partner asking Jack about medical histories and allergies and if he was injured. Todd can’t help but scoff over how the large man wasn’t so much as scratched. Before frowning at the kids legs, he honestly did not want to touch them. It looked like he’d jumped feet first into a cheap meat grinder. The flesh mangled and torn, bits of bone jutting out or on the ground. If Todd had to guess, he’d say not even once inch of bone or skin was intact.

Todd blinks as he hears the kid mutter, apparently able to self-access to a disturbing level, “breaks: eight ribs, left arm, seven fingers, fuck my legs, shit. Dislocated shoulder, five cracked ribs, six herniated discs”, wheezing, “blood, lots of that. Okay okay, legs. That’s, uh, not good”.

Todd clears his throat once he’s gotten the gurney set up, seriously thankful the kid is half sitting half laying on a blanket. Effectively startling the boy out of his mutterings, who looks at him wide-eyed, “oh shit, person”.

Todd rolls his eyes but gets to work, motioning his partner over to help move the boy. “Just stay still kid”. Watching and having half the mind to whack the kid over the head, as he flops to lay down -which is beyond bad to do if he thinks he’s damaged his spine- and sounds, of all things, annoyed.

Todd’s partner chuckles at the boy as they carry him over to one of the waiting ambulances, “you definitely seem a Fenton that’s for sure”.

Todd has to force the kid to lay down as he tries sit up, after getting him in the ambulance, to look around, “kid, your folks are fine. Just take it easy. It’s you who needs to be worried over”.

The kid actually scowls at him before tilting his head around to scan the accident site, “okay, if you don’t stop moving we are immobilising you completely”. But Todd sighs slightly as Maddie hops in and hovers her hands around Danny, “sweetie, oh Zone, Danny”.

Todd grunting, “I’m going to have to ask that you don’t touch, sorry”, as he’s hooking up vitals and bags. There’s no way this kid hasn’t lost a concerning amount of blood and it’s a small miracle, if you could call it that, that the kid was even conscious.

Todd’s a bit surprised that the kid is still trying to look around, albeit a bit more subtly, “anyone hurt?”.

Maddie gives him a soft smile, “your dad and I are fine sweetie”.

“No, everyone. Is anyone hurt?”. Todd is seriously thrown by the seriousness and urgency to the kids tone. He sounded more like one of his fellow medics or a cop, than an injured kid.

Maddie blinks and worries her lip, “I’m not positive sweetie, but I’m sure there are injuries”.

Todd and his partner grab the kids' shoulders and force him to lay down. The kid looking like he wants to run off and seemingly moving to do exactly that. Todd holds up some straps, “do I seriously need to use these?”.

The kid glares at him before huffing like this is the hardest thing in the world and grumbles, “no”, as he lays still on the gurney; glaring at the ceiling with an almost impressive level of annoyance. But, apparently, not fretting about people -even though he’s injured to such a horrific level that Todd’s not even able to touch the kids' legs- is enough for the kids' body to just give out; as the kid blacks out.

Todd and his partner exchange worried glances, as the kids ECG turns on, showing an alarmingly slow heartbeat. Both watching it as they clean some of the blood off the kids' torso; hoping that’s interfering with the readings. It’s not, but in doing this they both notice the multitude of scars. Some with clear stitch marks and others that are completely unfamiliar to them.

Todd glances to Maddie with a slight frown, no kid winds up this scarred on their own. But that’s a problem for the cops, not him; as they arrive at the hospital.

The two paramedics hopping back in their ambulance to head back out before blinking at Jack running into the hospital. How he got here almost before they did, they’ve got no clue. The two shake their heads and shrug, speeding off, just more Fenton weirdness. Hopefully, that weirdness will help the kid out, he’ll be lucky to even keep his legs.

Dr. Lewis’s assistant snaps on his gloves for him after rigorously cleaning his hands, she opens the doors for him as he speaks, “so what are we dealing with? From the crash right?”.

Brittney pushes up her glasses with her wrist and nods, speaking as everyone else in the room makes space for the head surgeon, “yes, the Fenton son. He’s got more broken bones than intact ones...”.

Lewis smiles, thinking as Brittney rattles off the very long list of injuries, it had been a while since he had seen them, years in fact. Though this isn’t exactly how he’d like to be seeing any of them. Lewis nods before setting to work, “ah Danny, he’s grown a lot. His folks are old friends of mine”. Multiple people mutter about how, “that explains a lot”, and, “somehow that’s not surprising”.

Lewis is honestly amazed Danny’s even alive. Especially considering his strange vitals. But Lewis has seen strange before, so so long as Danny’s vitals don’t drop it’s whatever. But based on just his listed central injuries he should have lost more blood than the human body even carries. He managed to sever his Inferior Vena Cava, Superior Mesenteric Artery and Femoral Artery.

He’s not sure if that’s weird or just really impressive. Though he doesn’t let it faze or interrupt his work. But once he gets Danny’s chest open he stills completely, more than a little confused.

Multiple people whisper, “what is that?”. And Lewis has no answer. There’s just a glowing pale blue ball of what seems to be energy. Somehow it was partly through other organs as if it wasn’t physically touchable. Lewis pokes it, curious, only for his hand to go through it. But Danny shivers, so he promptly decides it’s just part of him and messing with it would be bad.

Lewis shrugs, back to the actual problems with Danny. Lewis can actually work with normal medical problems. Even if they were excessive and weird. Seeing as he came in with two, TWO, ruptured lungs. One kidney was a lost cause, the other barely salvageable. His spine was an interesting puzzle to put back together, but he’s not paralysed. Small miracles Lewis, small miracles. Thankfully his arms and hands just had simple breaks and dislocations, even if nearly every finger on his left was badly crushed. But hey, at least Danny was right hand dominant.

His legs though...Lewis sighs after poking and looking around, he knew with one look the legs were going to be bad. And normally he’d like to do the most difficult task first. It was always the most interesting and usually needed his full alert attention. But someone could live without good legs, they firmly can’t with major severed arteries and non-functioning lungs. Again, Danny should be dead. Very dead. Even if he was miraculously without any head or neck injuries. Not even whiplash.

Sighing again, Lewis turns away and snaps off his gloves into the trash. These legs weren’t salvageable. He was good, one of the best actually, but even for him limits exist. And leg bones that were shattered into millions of tiny pieces, like someone had put a bomb in a room full of oddly fleshy and bloody glass, was far past his limits.

Lewis nods to his team, “keep him stable”.

They nod as he leaves but nearly all of them mutter, “he’s actually doing the taking? The bad news? Wow”. Now it wasn’t that Lewis shirked his duties or couldn’t handle breaking bad news. He just wasn’t a people person, wasn’t sensitive enough apparently.

Lewis approaches Jack and Maddie, making a point not to smile and sends a small nod to their daughter, Jasmine, before speaking to the parents, “I’m sorry that this is how we run into each other again”.

Maddie nods and fiddles with her fingers, “agreed”, looking up at him and smiling pleadingly, “but you were always the best in your classes. So I’m sure he’s in the best hands”.

Jack clears his throat, “how is he? Will he be okay? How much longer?”.

Jazz sighs, “I’m sure he’ll be fine dad. Danny’s tough”.

Lewis forces down a laugh, not appropriate right now, “he certainly is”, looking more serious and looking back to the parents, “by all accounts, it’s a miracle he made it here at all. I’ve seen folks who’ve gone through wood chippers with less injuries. But he’s stable, he’ll live”.

Both parents sigh in relief but Jasmine squints at him, “and what’s the bad news? You didn’t say he’s out of surgery so clearly he’s not. The head surgeon wouldn’t leave the middle of surgery just to mingle”.  

Maddie and Jack look from her to Lewis, worried and scared. Lewis nods with the appropriate frown, sighing, “unfortunately you’re right”, clearing his throat, “though he didn’t sustain any head injuries, and all the major and minor central damage has been repaired and will heal fine. His legs, I’m afraid, can’t be helped. Even keeping them would be a bad idea”.

Maddie chokes out a sob and clings on Jack. Jack speaking softly, “are you...are you sure?”. While Jazz looks extremely startled and slightly conflicted.

Lewis nods at his two friends, “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can even begin to do or try”.

Jack bows his head before nodding slightly and clenching his fists. Looking back up to Lewis, “Danny-boy’s a strong kid. I’m sure we can all handle adapting. Do what you think is best”.

While Jasmine walks up and plays with her hands, looking slightly pleading, “you’re sure he can’t keep them? Even a little?”.

Lewis sighs and nods, “I’m sorry Jasmine”, before giving her shoulder a slight squeeze and heading back to surgery.

Lewis picks up the bone saw as he reenters, freshly washed and gloved hands. His newest team member grimacing slightly as he gets to work. His team moving around and aiding him as he goes, pushing his weight on the device, occasionally switching out to bone nibblers or scalpels and other smaller tools. Everyone firmly ignoring Lewis’s slightly fond smile as he admires his work. Walking around to check out the symmetry. Most medical surgeons don’t exactly care how their work looks, Lewis does. Like tattoos, if you make scars and wounds pretty enough or give some kind of design people might actually grow to like them. Though clearly Danny had no issue with scars, considering the impressive amount of them he had. But hey, everyone likes symmetry.

Lewis makes a couple slight, and arguably unnecessary, changes, before having his underlings do the closing and heading back out to see his friends. Glancing at the clock as he goes, twelve hours total, expected honestly but still.

It’s no surprise that they’re less hopeful and happy about seeing him this time. “He’ll be fine. You can probably see him in a while but it’s best you don’t touch him”.

Jack and Maddie nod, looking a bit shell shocked. Lewis motions for someone to bring them some water and sits down. Clearing his throat, “now he’s going to be out for around half an hour, after that he’s going to be a bit groggy and he’ll be on a lot of medications. It’s best you wait till he asks to tell him about his legs. I can do that if you’d prefer?”.

The two nod as they accept waters, Maddie speaking, “thank you Dan. We’d like it if you were there to...explain things if he asks for specifics, but we can tell him”.

Jack nods, smilingly slightly forced, “he’s a curious kid. Always asking what this or that does”.

Lewis returns the smile more genuinely while Jazz appears to be grimacing.

Jack rubs Maddie arm and doesn’t call Lewis out on just sitting there somewhat awkwardly. His lack of people skills never even seemed to be noticed by the two, which is part of why he could call them friends. They were so strange that his strange went unnoticed.

Jazz eyes her parents before getting up and tugging on Lewis’s coat slightly, whispering, “give them some room, I’m a curious one too”.

Lewis raises an eyebrow before nodding, yes ‘space’ was something people usually needed. Walking with the girl who’s got a deep frown for a while till she speaks to him, “so...your name’s Dan?”.

“It is, not short for anything. Why?”, Lewis was fully expecting some questions about aftercare or even the nitty-gritty of surgery, not his name.

Jazz frowns slightly more, “then make sure you’re introduced as ‘Lewis’ first then”.

“Bad experience?”.

“Very”.

Lewis looks behind them, towards the parents, “I take it they don’t know?”.

Jazz shakes her head but smiles ever so slightly, “he likes to keep somethings to himself”.

Lewis smirks as his pager goes off, calling him away. Likely more people from the crash.

All three Fenton’s stiffen and hold their breaths as Danny groans, “who dropped a semi-truck on me?”, screws up his face, and opens his eyes. Blinking a couple of times, “oh duh, a road did”, before chucking slightly.

Jazz smiles softly and shuffles her chair closer to him, while their parents flinch, “you’re pretty close actually little brother. But I don’t think there were any semi’s involved”.

Danny clearly attempts to lift up his hand, but it is held in place. Jazz speaking as Danny looks not pleased about that, “don’t try breaking it. You need it, the public hospital did a good job though. Looks cool”. Seriously hoping that he gets that he has to act at least somewhat normal.

Danny snorts, “ice ice baby”, before blinking and screwing up his face again, “hospital? Am Imma bag of broken shards and bloodied mashed potatoes or something?”.

Jazz cringes at that, “yeah”.

Danny rolls his shoulders slightly, “well alright then”, snorting and looking at her, “what’d I fuck up this time?”.

Now all three cringe, Jack clearing his throat, prompting Danny to look towards him as Jack speaks, “nothing, son. It was just a freak accident-”.

Danny’s barked laugh cuts him off, “sounds like the story of half my life”.

Jack blinks and exchanges a slight smile with Maddie, though they still look sad. Maddie pets his hair gently, his head being the only thing not wrapped or restrained, “but one that none of us were even slightly responsible for”.

Danny chuckles, “that’s a nice change. Change is good. Let’s you buy burgers. Hospital burgers though...”, Danny makes a disgusted face, “not worth a cent. Prob make my tongue fall off or sometin’ and I like my tongue. It’s squishy and doesn’t belong to a snake”.

“Sounds like someone’s up”, everyone turns to Lewis’s voice. Danny chuckling, “look, a doctor, in a hospital. Who would have thought”.

Lewis smiles, “certainly not I”.

Danny shifts, Jazz is sure he was attempting to point at Lewis, “I like you. You seem very hit-able, but, like, the kind that also makes questionably strong coffee“.

Lewis shrugs as he walks fully into the room and stands next to the bed, “I’ll take it, and you’re right, I do take my coffee black. I don’t even mind the grounds”.

“Ah a doc after my heart, possibly literally. But it’s mine, not yours. You want it, you gotta lick it, like a cat”.

“My wife’s got a cat, real prick. Not going to copy any of his behaviour”, Lewis smirks and shrugs, “even if you have a very healthy and nice heart”.

Danny laughs loudly, everyone else laughing slightly as well. Jack and Maddie thankful for their sons weird, and definitely inebriated, humour. Jazz completely understanding why, or more so how, Lewis is friends with her parents. He might be weirder than them actually.

Danny smirks, “I would slap my heart if I wasn’t told to not break my white wrapping confines. ‘Cause this muscly bastard gets all the exercise!”, Danny screws up his face and laughs again, “pretty sure a cat tried to kill me once!”.

Lewis glances at Danny’s ECG, showing a heartbeat that is way too slow and pulse much the same. Not to mention the startlingly cold body temperature. But since Danny seems fine and stable in those regards, he’s just assuming that’s normal. He’s seen weirder and the Fenton’s are exactly the people to have a strange son.

Danny follows Lewis’s eyes, chuckling at the faintly beeping thing, “huh, well that’s awkward”, snorting, “really half-assing the job. Lazy prick”.

Lewis tilts his head and can’t help but laugh, it really was only half what it should be.

Jack smiles, “it’s doing a great job actually Danny-boy”.

Lewis smirks, “really holding you together there”, before shuffling, slightly self-aware. He liked patients who were a bit out of it, he could let his tongue fly more. But there were others here, friend kind of others. But no one seems fazed, though Jazz groans sounding exhausted rather than bothered.

Danny grins goofily, “so my bones n’ shit are lazy then, cause that’s their job. Heart’s jus suppose make a right bloody mess”, wiggling slightly, “just be really dramatic about it. Like with that tv show guy who got stabbed by a straw? Just spewing red like a fountain”.

Jazz groans, “that’s really morbid Danny”.

Lewis laughs slightly, “that’s also not really possible”, shrugging, “not like that at least”.

Danny smirks, “oh? Do tell. That’d make a great prank”.

Jazz groans, “Danny no”.

Making Danny smirk at her, “Danny yes”.

Maddie smiles at him, “I’m sure doing that wouldn’t be a good idea”.

Danny shrugs, “it would be really messy. I’m good at that though, I mean my room? My life? Just oof. Mess”, screwing up his face, “right right yeah, I ‘twas a mess wasn’t I? Drenched like went swimming in viscera”.

Lewis is the only one who doesn’t cringe. While Danny raises an eyebrow at Lewis, “who gots to clean that all up? I could, like, sign the soiled towels or whatever”.

Jazz, officially worried Danny thinks he’s in ghost form, “little bro, us Fenton’s are odd but not odd enough for people to want our signatures”, she then flicks his black hair so that it is definitely in Danny’s line of sight.

Danny blows air at it, “just a Fan of weird but not weird weird”. Danny then tilts his head and blinks, frowning, “right, accident. Just piles of twisted metal”, frowning more.

Everyone is fully expecting that he’s noticed something’s missing now but instead he asks, “everyone fine? From that? Serious injuries? It wasn’t a ghostly accident was it?”.

Lewis blinks, ghosts?, that’s right, Jack and Maddie are ghost hunters. Lewis clears his throat, “mostly scrapes, whiplash and some broken bones. But there have been a few reported deaths”. Lewis almost jerks from Danny reacting like someone just shot him directly in the face and point-blank. “Woah Danny, it was a nasty crash, casualties are expected-”.

Jazz cuts him off and plucks out one of Danny’s hairs, functionally startling him out of any mental spirals, “there’s nothing anyone could have done Danny. Including you”.

Danny screws up his face and it looks rather painful, “but those paras, they wasted time on me and holding me back. Coulda helped”.

Jazz cringes, knowing how hard that would have been on him. While Jack and Maddie gape at him. Maddie speaking, “sweetie you needed it. Your life isn’t a waste of their time”.

“But they could have saved someone else if they hadn’t been busy with me! I’d have been fine!”.

Maddie jerkily moves her hand to grab his but thinks better of it and runs her hand through his hair, “sweetie no”.

Lewis, a little caught off guard, “you really shouldn’t have survived yourself”.

Danny actually rolls his eyes, “‘m fine”.

Jack clenches his hands, “I, son, no you’re not”. While Jazz pokes his cheek, “just breathe and focus on your own healing, like the rest of us mortals”, winking at him and putting on a slight smile, “you go be helpful when not ensnared by the medical system”.

Danny looks at the ceiling and blinks a little, “what caused it? The accident?”.

Jazz instantly saying, “not ghosts”.

Lewis clears his throat, “it was a drunk driver apparently”.

Danny squints at him, “at three p.m.?”.

Lewis shrugs, both impressed and pleased he remembered what time it happened at, “if it helps, he died”.

Danny frowns, “it doesn’t...much”. Lewis represses a smirk at that.

Danny tilts his head slightly and squints at Lewis, “this ain’t Amity hospital. Why you no question ghost shit?”.

Lewis blinks and actually laughs slightly, realising he forgot to give his name, “right, I’m a friend of your parents actually. Dr. Lewis. I know about their profession”.

Danny snorts, “convenient”, and eyes Lewis cautiously. Lewis can tell Danny’s visually picking him over, looking for danger. This boy was scarred and paranoid, that didn’t really add up to a pretty picture. Maybe he was a hunter too, would make sense. Just clearly more, would ‘intense’ work best?, about it.

Jazz flicks Danny’s ear, “he’s a good guy. Little odd, but that’s for the best”.

Danny eyes Lewis some more, but Jack and Maddie both smile at him so he blows out a breath and rolls his eyes, “so fams doctor friend was getting all friendly with my organs. Really getting to know me on an internal level”.

Jazz laughs, “yeah. Danny. Yeah”.

“Guess I gotta do one better then”.

Now Lewis is the only one not glaring. Danny had an extremely dark sense of humour.

Danny smirks, though his eyes still look rather freaked out and haunted, “what? Gotta make sure my meat suit knows who owns and haunts it”. Jazz just sighs.

Jack smiles and laughs, it’s a bit hallow though, “no ghost could ever overshadow you Danny-boy!”.

Danny gives a genuine toothy smile, “I’m already spooky enough”.

Maddie blinks and looks to Lewis, having been reminded about Danny’s contamination and thus how his body functioned a bit different. Though the slow heartbeat was a bit of a shock, “that’s right, you never asked us about Danny’s unusual readings? I’m sure you’re curious about that?”.

Lewis shrugs, “I’ve seen some seriously weird stuff over the years. So long as no one or thing tries to kill me or my patient, it’s cool”.

Danny laughs, “it’s like we’re the same person! Just you see more guts, hopefully anyway”.

Lewis smirks, “well I am very good at handling them. Hands of an Angel some say”.

Danny smirks right back, “well some say I’m downright devilish. So yay, yin and yang. Very black and white, I approve”, Danny looks to the ECG, “but yeah, that’s me norm”, shrugging as he looks back to Lewis, “everything’s my norm”. Danny keeps talking as everyone cringed, “though I’d really like to know where the fuck my legs are”.

Everyone gapes at him for a bit, even Lewis has never had a patient just let something like that roll off their tongue. Usually there was at least some shock or a mild freak out. Sometimes they just refused to believe it before freaking out severely. Danny just sounded like he’d misplaced his hairbrush or forgot to study.

Maddie shakes herself off slightly, petting Danny’s hair, “they were, um, they were too badly damaged sweetie”, before looking to Lewis, who nods and steps forward slightly. “They were pretty well shattered apart. Most pieces too small to even attempt to put back together. Your skin and muscle was hardly any better. The bone absolutely had to be removed and leaving the rest would only hinder you and would risk your health”.

Danny nods, “well alright then. You did what you thought best so it’s cool”.

Lewis blinks, “Danny...that is the single most relaxed reaction I’ve ever gotten or heard of”.

Danny chuckles, “Imma chill dude”, blinking and then laughing, “oh Ancients! I’m legless on main!”.

Jazz makes a face and groans into her hand, releasing he’s referencing how his other-self is sometimes legless, “that is a horrible joke Danny!”.

Jack gives an awkward smile, “well at least he’s handling it well”.

Lewis isn’t sure if this qualifies as ‘handling it well’, but it does make his job easier and more enjoyable. Plus, they’re friends, so of course Lewis is going to do the house check-ups. Even if they’re in another city. So it works for him. Traumatised emotional wrecks and people spiralling into depression, he can’t deal with that; at least not well. But someone looking to crack a joke or relax and pretty much ignore the damage? That, he can do.

Danny smirks, “Imma terrible terror so good!”, tilting his head down as far as it can go, which isn’t very far, “so will I be able to draw constellations on the scars?”.

Lewis smiles and decides to just speak, they weren’t exactly normal people, “sure, but wait till it’s not raw. But it looks good as is, I like to play around with my work. Make things look nice”. It’s refreshing to not get looked at strange though. This is exactly why he missed the two strange scientists.  

Danny smiles, “anything for the asstetic...antiseptic...fuck...aesthetic”, making everyone laugh slightly.

Lewis nods, “yes, it’s clear you don’t mind scars-”.

Jazz interrupts him, “yup! That’s guys for you”. While Jack and Maddie just look confused. Lewis blinks, getting the message from both her comment and the dirty ‘shut the hell up’ look, obviously, Jack and Maddie aren’t aware of the scars. Which is odd, if they were from ghost hunting they would probably know about it. If he was getting them professionally treated then they would also know about it. And considering the oddity and severity of some of the scarring, he absolutely needed professional treatment. There was no way he was treating himself. The skill would be admirable, but that would be one extreme pain tolerance. But that thought makes him blink, deciding to look over Danny’s readings. His levels of pain killers were way lower than they should be, okay everything was off. But logically Danny should be in pain. Glancing at him, “you okay overall though?”.

Danny just gives him a confused raised eyebrow, “‘m fine”.

Lewis gives him a dubious raised eyebrow in return, “considering you did imply you were fine without functioning lungs and missing chunks of ribs and multiple broken vertebrae. That’s not even mentioning the legs. So not sure if I actually believe you”.

Jazz nods and hums, muttering, “that’s a good rule of thumb with Danny. He’s an idiot”. Danny just huffs, rolls his eyes, and mutters, “I’d have been fine”.

While Maddie gasps slightly and Jack clenches his fists and jaw. Maddie nearly whispering at Lewis, “that bad?”.

Lewis nods, he’s still impressed and confused how Danny’s alive. But it is interesting and he is glad Danny’s not dead.

Danny rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m fine. Go fret over someone who needs it”.

All four saying, “you need it”, which Danny just scoffs at.

Lewis has to run off at the sound of his pager again, Danny snickering, “run off a lot doc? Got a patient sense?”. Making Jazz groan.

Lewis waves as he heads out the door, “running off is half the job”.

Danny snorts, near shouting, “that’s half the life!”.

Jack and Maddie smile, Maddie ruffling Danny’s hair, “you’re sure you’re feeling fine? Right now?”.

Danny smiles softly, “I’m good. Swear it”.

Maddie pats his head, “well hopefully you heal fast. And we could, could build you legs”.

Jack chuckles quietly, “and you’re a Fenton! We’re tough! You can handle it for sure! We’ll adjust”.

Danny chuckles awkwardly, “yeah...”, clearing his throat, “so I’m hungry, who else is hungry?”.

Jazz tries to not sigh exaggeratedly but nods to her parents. It would be good for them to have some alone time, she was the only one who hadn’t been in the vehicle at the time, “you guys go get something, anything not greasy for me and something soft for Danny. I’ll keep him company”.

The two exchange a glance but nod and head out.

Danny rolls his eyes at Jazz, “what if I wanted fries?”.

Jazz glares at him, “a normal person in your state shouldn’t be having that”.

“You know, it’s going to be more annoying eating mush for however long than ‘healing’”, giving her a look, “I would point at you but I can’t, well I can, just shouldn’t. Like I said, quote-unquote ‘healing’, ‘cause you know, can’t let myself actually heal”.

Jazz sighs, “I know, has any of it actually healed? Since you weren’t exactly conscious to stop it”.

Danny rolls his shoulders, “I stopped it as soon as I spotted the paras. But I did heal the head stuff before then”.

“Lewis thought that was weird, the lack of head injuries”, glancing at the door quickly, “you know, neck and head injuries are one of the most common to get? I’m guessing the legs would have taken too long, but you should have healed your chest”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “head injuries are waaaaaay more annoying. And Jazz literally all of my neck was broken. That would have been way more suspicious. My ribs get broken every week, though fine, shoulda fixed the lungs”.

Jazz cringes, that was arguably way worse. While Danny looks where his legs should be, “know that I am making imaginary wild hand motions at my quote unquote ‘legs’. Jazz, I don’t know if I even can heal this. I’ve never lost a limb before. Cuts, scrapes and breaks aren’t the same as regrowing a freaking limb. Two freaking limbs”.

Jazz sighs, “yeah I know, I tried to stop him from completely removing them but there really was no reasonably human explanation for why, I could give him”, shifting, “but you’ve lost bones before right? They grew back”.

Danny chuckles, “right as ectoplasmic rain they did”, sighing with a frown, “but I also wasn’t putting off my healing at the time”. Danny glances at the medications they have him on, nodding his head at them, “guessing you can’t do anything about getting me off this stuff either?”.

Jazz giggles and shakes her head slightly, “you’re stuck on doctors orders Danny. Plus, it is helping with the pain, right? Even if it is making you a little loose-lipped”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “loose-lipped plus secret identity don’t goddamn mix. But this stuffs supposed to remove foreign stuff, supposed to help healing. Ectoplasm is normally foreign, I can feel my ectoplasm reacting to it even if my ectoplasm is all pushed down and hiding”, wiggling a bit, “I can tell it’s making me produce more ‘plasm; which is both energising me and making me weaker. And the stuff is actively making it hard not to heal”.

Jazz looks at the ECG and thinks over the strange doctor. He clearly knew Danny was weird already. It was rather obvious right now, “okay, that’s probably bad, but Lewis knows your weird, clearly. Mom and dad know about your quote-unquote ‘ecto-contamination’. So I could just tell him your bodies so normalised to ectoplasm that you need the little bit in you?”.

“Or I could just pull some overshadowing shit”, the two stare for a bit before Danny sighs, “fine”.

Jazz nods and goes to open her mouth but Danny whispers, “shhhhhhh, hush-hush time”. With Jack and Maddie returning with food seconds later. Danny getting green jello, which he laughs at, and milk.

They all sit around talking some more, in-between eating, before Danny starts making a show of yawning and being tired. Jazz easily picking up that he just wants to be left alone. “So I know Sam and Tucker are going to want an update on Danny, since they can’t actually come in and see him”, giving her parents meaningful looks.

Jack and Maddie don’t want to go, not at all. But they both know their daughter is probably right. Plus hounding him probably won’t help him at all. They know he wouldn’t want them to put their lives on hold. Plus they have to prep the house. Jack puts on a smile and stands, “I’m sure Danny-boy wouldn’t want Amity left unprotected either!”.

Jazz grimaces at Danny’s flinch and heavily veiled panic. Leaning over him and whispering, “Sam and Tucker can handle it. You trust them right?”, and kissing his forehead.

Danny makes a disgusted face at her but she can still read the panic and paranoia on his face. While Maddie ruffles his hair and Jack awkwardly pats his head. Danny just makes an exaggerated grumpy face over that. Whispering at them as they walk out to leave, “I’ll be okay, promise”. They look at him with smiles, no one really wanting to disagree or look like they were holding him to that. Jazz being the only one that truly understood the weight of Danny’s promises, seldom made but always kept.

Jazz slips off, saying she has to go to the bathroom as her parents take a breather on a bench and just stare at the floor squeezing each other. Thankfully, she finds Lewis pretty quickly; looking over some papers. He glances at her and back to the papers before looking to her fully and tilting his head, “everything alright? I haven’t been notified of anything?”.

Jasmine looks around, Lewis easily getting the message that whatever was going on was very much private. So he starts down one of the empty hallways, Jasmine falling in step. “Actually, something is wrong. Sort of”, Jasmine looks him up and down cautiously before speaking again, “obviously Danny’s a bit...different”.

Lewis chuckles slightly, something weird was going on and she clearly wanted to know just how much he knew. He’s got a gut feeling that what he says will affect what she tells him, “that might be an understatement. His heartbeat alone shouldn’t be sustainable, he should be hypothermic, and his blood is not only not the right shade of red but also oddly thick. That’s not even mentioning how malleable his bones are, how fast he’s metabolising medications, how long he can go without breathing, or the strange scars”.

Jazz giggles and smirks, though a little alarmed at just how much he had noticed, “so you are curious then?”.

Lewis shrugs, “I like interesting and I’ve seen weirder”, Lewis looks around slightly, “though my ghost hunter buddies, which yeah that’s an odd profession, battered son, who should really be dead, showing up on my operation table, with impossible vitals and more scars than flesh, and then I open him up to find what looks like a blueish white sun that’s somehow impervious to touch; is definitely up there for the prize of weirdest day for Dan Lewis”.

Jazz coughs, firmly caught off guard, blinking at him as she breathes out, “you saw that...”.

“I was near blinded by that”.

Jazz pauses in her walking and replays Lewis’s words, tilting her head at him, “wait, that’s not the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?”.

“I had a patient try to eat me once. They genuinely debated trying again directly in front of me. That wasn’t even the weirdest part”, shrugging, “they’re one of my best friends now though, so it’s fine”.

Jazz blinks and wheezes slightly, “oh Zone. You are like Danny”, shaking her head, “all three of his closest friends have tried to kill him. One even tried it with a scythe”.

Lewis chuckles, “based on Danny’s sense of humour he probably approved of that”.

Jazz nods as they start walking again, deciding this guy was trustable and had an extremely high tolerance for weird, “you’re right on that. I guess you can handle weird. And there is a reason for what’s in Danny’s chest”, frowning, “but our folks don’t know, best they don’t. Best no one does, so keep it to yourself”.

Lewis nods, he doesn’t exactly agree but who was he to control what kids told their parents? “I won’t be telling tales. Is it safe for him?”.

Jazz can’t help but blink at that, just like Danny his first concern was other people’s health and safety, smiling slightly, “yeah, he needs it actually”, looking around quickly, “heard of ectoplasm?”.

“In conspiracy theory and mythology books, yeah?”, tapping his chin, “always in relation to ghosts actually”, chuckling, “let me guess, ectoplasm is very much real and, for whatever reason, Danny has it in him?”.

Jazz smiles and nods curtly, “ecto-contamination it’s called. Most of the people in Amity have it. But Danny’s is...special. Because of an accident with our parents' ghost stuff. The thing in his chest? Is basically a hyper-concentrated ball of ectoplasm. Creates, filters and flows ectoplasm. Works like a heart but with ectoplasm instead of blood”, Jazz shrugs, “so while ecto-contamination usually wears off, his won’t”.

Lewis nods, “so this ‘ectoplasm’ flows along with his blood then? I take it, that it’s not red and is thicker”.

Jazz nods, “green actually. Of his quote-unquote ‘blood’, we guess about a quarter is ectoplasm”, smirking, “so any blood samples you’ve taken are going to come back weird, probably unusable”, frowning, “especially if your technicians tried to remove the ectoplasm”.

Lewis sighs slightly, having a feeling he knows where this is going. That Danny needed very special treatment, possibly off the books kind. “I’m making another guess and saying that Danny’s blood and ectoplasm are codependent?”.

Jazz nods, “you catch on quick. He needs both and that’s why everything with him is a little off. Ectoplasm is really cold, so his temperature is lower. His heart doesn’t have to do all the work but both have to do it, so his body does it the most efficient way it can, thus the slow heartbeat and pulse. And so on”.

“And this makes him able to survive things he shouldn’t? Why all the injuries his scars came from haven’t been treated professionally?”.

Jazz nods, looking around again, “yeah. Ectoplasm is a lot more versatile than blood. It can do the functions of blood or oxygen. Even brain functions. It’s also capable of increasing its own production”, sighing, “which is the reason I’m even telling you all this”.

Lewis scrunches up his eyebrows, this explained an awful lot. This ‘ectoplasm’ had been acting as oxygen, letting him bypass his lungs. It had been acting as extra blood so the blood loss wouldn’t kill him. He’s more curious over the ‘why she’s telling him’ bit though; likely important for his patients' health, “oh?”.

Jazz blinks at him and shakes her head, “okay Danny got lucky getting you”, sighing again, “basically, the medication you have him on. At least one is affecting his ectoplasm. Making him overproduce. Messing up healing and making him weak from overexertion. Also making him hyperactive though, so he won’t be able to sleep probably”.

Lewis frowns and nods, that definitely wasn’t good. “Well what medications can he take?”.

Jazz frowns, “that’s the thing, we don’t know. He just never takes anything for anything. Caffeine is probably the closest thing he gets to medicines”.

Lewis couldn’t legally have a patient, who just had multiple major surgeries, not have any pain medication. That sort of thing was considered unethical. But it was simple enough to fake giving someone medication. So long as no one other than him checked in on Danny. He could use the Fenton’s well-known weirdness to his advantage for that but it would be far easier if he could send them home. But Danny’s injuries were far too severe to be out of the hospital in even a wheelchair. But then again, “tell me, does Danny’s ‘condition’ give him a healing factor? Or make wounds, in general, less serious? As he seems to have implied?”.

Jazz cringes slightly, Danny and his mouth, before nodding, “yeah. But that’s supposed to be a secret”.

Lewis smirks and nods, of course it was. Someone might want to replicate that, “of course, from your parent as well I assume”, at her nod he asks, “why all the secrets though? From them”.

Jazz sighs, “they’d try to correct it. They’ve already tried to remove the ectoplasm but it didn’t work since he just makes more. If they knew why and how, they’d try to remove it”, frowning deeply and looking at Lewis, “that would basically kill him”.

Lewis frowns, surely his friends wouldn’t do that if their kids just explained the risks? Sure those two always did hate ghosts, they wouldn’t be hunters otherwise, but still. “You sure they would? Seems out of character to me”.

Jazz smiles, “I don’t personally. If Danny explained it to them. But Danny’s...a little paranoid”.

Lewis chuckles, that sounded a little familiar, “I can understand that. I’m guessing he okayed you telling me this because of the medication issue?”.

Jazz nods making Lewis laugh and shake his head slightly. “Well, I’ll see what I can do. Legally he has to be on medication”, shrugging, “but if that, say, never actually makes it to him and no one notices. Then who’s to say he didn’t have his medication”.

Jazz blinks at Lewis, who’s just casually suggesting breaking the law for a kid he’s never actually met before; just because he was friends with said kids' parents. Before breaking into a small mischievous smile, “guess we’ll be seeing you a lot then. Got to make sure your dear friends' son gets what he needs after all”.

Lewis chuckles, “indeed, and who would dare deny the head surgeon?”.

Jazz simply smiles as she turns to head back, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Dr. Lewis”.

Lewis nods and smiles to himself as he watches her go. He’s gotten himself messed up in yet another strange patient through one of the people in his, honestly small, social circle. Hopefully, this one doesn’t get abducted or try to kill him though.

[cadday]

Collateral Damage - Chapter 12

Waking up on the floor sucked, even more so when it was stone and unforgiving as the one they had slept for the night. Waking up with a tiny angry man goat thing in your face going on about who knows what also sucked. Looking over he saw Lea and Isa were both awake and fairly startled by the angry thing ranting at them. Sighing Braig dragged himself off the floor and grimaced at the goat man.

“Look, uh guy. We just needed a place to crash while passing through, no big deal. We’ll get out of your um horns..”

“Not like we hurt anything, don’t got to yell at us about jack.” Lea stretched as he stood apparently having recovered from being awoken by this worlds occupants.

“This ain’t a hotel you brat. This is a place for heroes! This is...” Braig looked around at the comment and snorted a bit as he realized just where they were.

“The coliseum…” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Isa was looking at him weird but Lea didn’t seem to notice as he was having a glaring contest with the goat guy.

“That’s right. This is where heroes train and compete! Heroes like Hercules.”

“Who the hell is Hercules?” The little guy looked like he was going to have an aneurysm at Lea’s question which would be hilarious but they needed to ask different questions here.

“Right, anyway we apologise or whatever. Look have you seen some kids? A girl and boy specifically. Girl might be running around with a flowery key?” It at least stopped the yelling as the goat dude looked at him for a good long minute as he contemplated their question. Braig supposed they might not look the most trustworthy. Honestly Braig probably wasn’t being helped by the scar and the eyepatch.

“Yeah I saw them, junior heroes in training, they passed training but they need a whole lot more work. Told them to come back when they were stronger. Doubt they could have gotten pretty far in the actual cup tournament.”

“Hey I’ll have you know Kairi could probably kick most of your so called heroes asses…” Lea was arguing with the goat guy again which he wasn’t sure they had time for but at least it was confirmed that Kairi and Ienzo had been here.

“Lea that’s enough. Look we just need to know where they went, got anyway to point us in the right direction?” Isa was pulling Lea away from the conversation to get him to stop because he wasn’t backing down or stopping anytime soon it seemed.

“I don’t know much, I do know that Hades stopped them, the creep, on their way out but the older one, with the hair all in his face, pulled them away from that, smart kid. Herc talked to them a bit, he may know more than me. He’s outside if you want to try talking to him. Your other kids had more manners by the way.” Braig was so distracted by trying to organize his thought he didn’t even have time to sputter out a negative response to the comment about his ‘other kids’, Ienzo was his nephew at best and Kairi was…a kid.  The goat guy had wandered off and Braig felt a little wrong footed as he joined Isa and Lea, who was no longer ranting loudly but had settled for quietly mumbling insulting things about the goat guy.

“Looks like we need to find the Hercules guy, he apparently talked to them before they left.” Lea continued to ignore him though as he was mumbling increasingly creative and vulgar insults. Isa slapped a hand over the red head’s mouth, Lea looked offended and startled which was a little funny.

“Right let’s go see if we can find this guy then get out of here…”

Exiting the colosseum was different in the daylight and it took a second to figure out which way to look. People were loitering around the colosseum and when asked where to find Hercules they were just pointed back in the direction they came which was no help at all.

“I don’t think this guy exists. The goat man just sent us on a wild goose chase.” Lea was wildly flailing his arms which in Braig’s understanding meant he was on the way to a full tantrum. Isa was trying to get him to sit and calm down but it wasn’t really working and honestly Braig was so annoyed he couldn’t care less if Lea went off, and probably accidentally set something on fire, maybe the Hercules guy would show up then.

‘not a good idea…’ Braig pushed off from the wall he had been leaning on with a huff.

“Hey, let's go back to the colosseum. Maybe we missed him and he’s there and if not Lea can yell at the goat some more.” He waved them to follow along and ignored Lea’s continued ranting and Isa’s long suffering sigh as they made their way back.

Braig expected a few things when arriving back at the colosseum entrance, he didn’t really expect the man goat of Lea’s ire to be running up to them in a panic or the screaming people fleeing the area.

“Where’s Herc!”

“How the hell should we know you freaking little..”

“Lea…” Braig ignored the silent conversation the two were having and shrugged at the goat guy.

“Look we couldn’t find him, is there a problem? What’s with the fleeing and screaming?”

“Cerberus is loose in the colosseum! Hades is obviously behind it but someone needs to go in there and get that mutt before everything is wrecked.”

“Cerberus is a dog?”

“A giant three headed monster of a dog with more teeth than brains.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“You go find Hercules and we’ll keep the giant angry dog thing busy till you do. Then we can talk to him after he stops the thing.”

“Are you nuts? You and those scrawny punks can’t take out Cerberus. You’ll be eaten alive.”

“Who the hell are you calling scrawny!”

“Just go find Hercules. Lea, Isa, hurry up.” With that Braig took off in the direction of the colosseum entrance. His arrow guns were in his hands before they entered the last door and he turned to make sure the others were smart enough to have drawn their weapons. Isa looked serious as much as Lea looked thrilled that they were about to fight a giant three headed creature.

“Alright, anything starts going wrong you book it out here understood? Isa you drag his ass out if ya have too.” He didn’t wait for the indignant yelling of Lea as they rushed into the open area of the arena.

Cerberus was a very angry looking three headed dog, with red eyes and questionably disproportionately giant sharp teeth that seemed like they would probably get in the way of eating then assist. The giant beast didn’t even notice their entrance as it focused more on slamming into pillars and lunging at the few trapped and screaming remaining audience members in the arena.

Lea and Isa were off running to assist evacuation of the area as Braig took a leveled breath and fired several rounds at one of the giant dogs heads to draw it’s attention away from the others. It swung around pissed and growling and he quickly rolled out of the way behind a pillar. The top of the pillar shattered around him and cursing he flung himself further away toward the seating areas to put some distance between giant fanged drooling mouths and his person.

“Geeze mutt. Your breath smells like death.” The thing lunged forward and he fired into the closest face before rolling under the snapping jaws of another. Blinding three heads at once was proving to be difficult and annoying.

‘needed a strategy…’

“Yeah, well too late for that innit.” Jumping out of the seating area he ran underneath the mutt before taking refuge behind another pillar and took a minute to catch his breath. He was too old for this shit.

‘you are not that old, in fact i am technically older.’

“Technically my consciousness time traveled so I’m pretty damn old too.”

‘physically it hardly matters.’

“If you want to be like that you don’t even have a physical form to age.”

‘fair enough.’ The pillar next to his collapsed as the cerberus attacked the stone in search of it’s attacker. Creeping around the pillar Braig caught sight of Lea and Isa pulling the last of the trapped audience members out of some rubble. The pillar against Braigs back shattered and cursing he spun around with his gun raised as something slammed into his side and sent him flying into one of the last remaining pillars. It didn’t shatter with his impact but it certainly felt like something did as he collapsed to the ground. His arrow gun bounced out of one of his hands. Raising his remaining weapon he fired a bit wildly at the approaching beast. The other heart was saying something but his head was kind of ringing and he was just trying his best to breathe through the pain.

Someone was yelling something colorful and Braig wondered briefly if he was that out of it that he was talking without realizing it. That was until Cerberus caught on fire. Isa was next to him in the next instant but he was distracted from whatever was being said by an absolutely furious Lea holding flaming chakrams and spitting out words he most likely had learned from Braig, and sometimes Dilan. Isa was pulling him up and Braig stumbled a bit as he tried to take more of his own weight then was smart. With an arm around Isa they quickly headed for the door, he briefly heard Isa calling for Lea before the edge of his vision went fuzzy and he blacked out completely.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

The Rook

After Lex reveals Kara's secret identity, Lena thinks she's fine - until she's not. The one person she trusted implicitly has betrayed her trust, and she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to believe in people again.

It's a tough lesson, but some things you just can't live without.

AKA - the angsty post S4 fic where Lena experiences heartbreak and anger as well as discovers the meaning of true love.

"I don't want to kill Supergirl, I just want her to experience the same hurt she inflicted on me."

*Hides behind rock* I know, it's been like 5 months, and I'm sorry! The book is still chugging along, but after seeing the SG trailer at SDCC I had to write something! Cue angst, heartbreak and devastating loss (with a happy ending of course!) Buckle in y'all, it's gonna get worse before it gets better!

Oh! and every chapter has a song to fit the mood! First up is "Nothing Breaks Like a Heart" by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus.

Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

Numb.

Lena’s not exactly sure how else to describe it.

The feeling in her chest that spreads out to her finger tips, the heavy, sinking feeling that makes her feel like she drowning.

She not unfamiliar with the feeling.

Quite the opposite, actually.

She’s spent the majority of her life near suffocation from the choking feelings of inadequacy and betrayal.

Practically from the start of her time with the Luthors, she’d been judged and ridiculed and left on the outskirts.

Maybe not overtly, but certainly purposefully.

She knows without a doubt that Lilian orchestrated most of her young life in order to maximize feelings of ‘less than’.

Whatever she had done to gain the Luthor Matron’s ire had occurred long before she set foot in the Luthor Mansion.

Regardless, of the reason, she dealt with the consequences for years - long days at various different lessons, Irish boarding school, hard pressure to get early acceptance into MIT. Even once she had graduated and was doing ground breaking experimental work with Jack, Lilian’s glare was a constant presence over her shoulder.

It became even worse once she took over L Corp - doubly so. Nothing she ever did lived up to Lex’s legend, and she certainly never bowed to the Luthor agenda.

She had finally caved to Lilian’s pressure, hoping to do something to gain her mother’s approval -  an alien detection device, one that would allow regular citizens to tell if the people they were interacting with aliens disguised as humans.

She was so confident that the device would win over Lilian’s good will, that she would finally live up to the Luthor name, (without being a murdering psychopath).

But then, something had happened, something that had made her realize that maybe she didn’t need to toe the line of xenophobia to gain the approval she was seeking.

Her entire world had turned upside down the day that Kara Danvers had walked in her office, offering a kind rebuke at the alien detection device.

Suddenly, her entire world had shifted.

Her desire for Lilian’s approval wasn’t gone, but now it paled in comparison to the need for Kara’s. (Maybe that was a stupid reason to nix a million dollar project and piss off investors, but it sounds better that saying a pretty girl made her do it.)

And unlike Lilian’s approval, Kara’s was easily given.

Nearly anything she did was met with unwavering approval, and unfaltering enthusiasm.

It was like crack, honestly, having someone who supported her and believed in her like Kara. Every time something came up that she thought would finally shake Kara’s trust, it backfired in the exact opposite direction.

Evidence shows that she’s stealing Kryptonite?

Kara stands up for her.

Evidence shows that she’s poisoning little kids?

Kara stands up for her.

Even when she hides Sam’s condition from Kara’s . . . friend, Supergirl -

Kara stands up for her.

It’s intoxicating, and it has nothing to do with Kara’s perfect hair and beautiful smile.

it has nothing to do with how Kara brings her donuts during Lilian’s trial.

It has nothing to do with how she always smiles at Lena, even in the face of Supergirl’s disapproving pout.

And it definitely has nothing to do with the way Kara smells when she wraps an arm around Lena and solemnly promises to always be there for her.

It’s just nice, to be supported and believed in for once in her life.

It’s even more nice to have a self-proclaimed best friend that stands by her no matter what

(It does help that Lena has a huge, gigantic, undeniable crush on said best friend.)

But it’s not like she can say anything.

There’s no way that sweet, charming, beautiful, sometimes trips over her own words Kara would ever feel the same way about Lena.

It’s a statistical improbability,

Which is exactly why Lena suffers through lunches and game nights and a few too close to be just friendly hugs.

Kara’s friendship is enough, she shouldn’t want more. Kara is already so much better than anything she ever dreamed of having, she isn’t going to risk what they have by confessing something as inconvenient as feelings.

So she shoves her feelings away in a little box, and refuses to acknowledge them. Just like she refuses to acknowledge that her best friend looks a lot like the girl of steel.

She over compensates, almost to the point of hilarity; pushing Kara behind her in dangerous situations, insisting on being mad at her alter ego while still cozying up to her favorite reporter.

It’s stupid, but it somehow works in her brain. Allows her to ignore the fact that her best friend in the entire universe is also maybe, sort of, definitely Supergirl.

(It also allows her to ignore that Kara hasn’t told her said fact.)

It hurts, in a weird way, knowing that Kara is keeping something so important from her. But just like the facts, she puts that in a little box and ignores it too.

At least, until it all comes crashing down.

Lex, the goddamn bastard, couldn’t be good for anything, not even in death.

And if Lena feels like shit for thinking such a thing, she feels even worse knowing that what he’s telling her is true.

All of her little boxes come flying open, and they refuse to be closed again, no matter how hard she tries.

Kara’s identity, all the feelings of inadequacy and rejection, her burning desire for belonging and family - all of it comes rushing to the surface.

She tries to fight it, she does, but it feels unavoidable as it all comes crashing down around her.

Kara, her best friend, is Supergirl.

She was blind not to see it before, really.

She blames it on the little boxes.

Now though, she can’t deny it.

Kara is Supergirl.

And it hurts, somewhere deep in her chest.

Some part of her recognizes it as those feelings of inadequacy and unbelonging that belong to Lilian. Only now it’s her best friend making her feel that way. The person that promised to always be in her corner and have her back.

It’s almost debilitating.

She tries so hard to shove that in a little box too, but it doesn’t work. If anything, it backfires.

 ”You're with me, right?” Kara asks her on game night, and Lena stamps a foot down on the little box threatening to fly open - bile biting at the back of her throat.

“Always.”

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It all comes crashing down a week later when Kara finally confronts her.

“Lena?” Kara asks, and Lena freezes, sensing the trepidation in her voice.

“No, you don’t have anything in your teeth.” She teases, trying to belay the way her heart rate doubles.

“No, I know, I just . . . “

“What?” Lena asks, voice calm but her heart racing.

“i just . . . I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I never really had the chance. Well, I mean I did, but Alex said . . . What I’m trying to say is -“

“Don’t.” Lena tells her, surprised at the firmness in her voice.

“Lena, I have to . . .”

Their eyes lock, and Lena shivers. So much for little boxes.

“I’m . . .” Kara reaches for her glasses.

“Kara . . .”

“I’m Supergirl.” Kara finishes weakly, her hands trembling as they lower her glasses to her side.

“Kara.” she chokes out. “Don’t.”

“Lena - “ Kara starts to explain, but Lena ignores her.

Kara looks so incredibly sad, eyes welling up with tears and the muscles in her neck trembling.

“I know. I know all about your little secret.” Lena swallows hard, fighting back the tears. “You know why? Because Lex told me. I didn’t get to find out from you, or Alex; no, I got to find out from my homicidal brother. I suppose I was stupid for not seeing it before - naive to think that the most important person in my life wouldn’t hide something like that from me. I guess I was wrong, I’m just a fool.” She bites out the words, putting as much of her frustration into them as she can.

She may not be able to hurt Kara physically, but emotionally?

After a lifetime of living with Lilian?

That she can do.

“Lena, I didn’t do it to hurt you -“

“Really?” Lena scoffs, choking back tears. “Then why do I feel like you’ve taken a knife and stabbed it into my heart?”

Kara’s eyes look so full of remorse that Lena almost caves.

“I never meant to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Oh, then what was your master plan? I’d love to hear it.”

“Lena . . .” Kara’s upper lip trembles.

“Literally everyone around you knew, except me.” Lena goads. “What exactly was your point? Other than to prove just how untrustworthy Luthors are?”

“No! I would never! Lena, I trust you more than anyone; maybe even more than Alex, that’s why I had to -“

“That’s why you had to lie to me?” Lena interjects, unwilling to let Kara finish her sentence.

“I didn’t want to lie to you!”

“Then why did you?!”

They stare at each other - an unstoppable force and an immovable object - the tension nearly crackling the air between them.  

Finally, the unstoppable force causes the object to move, and Kara speaks.

“Because when I first met you . . . you were . . . are the most beautiful woman I’d ever met.”

Lena’s heart jumps in her throat at Kara’s words, because surely she doesn’t mean them like that.

And I didn’t know if it was clouding my judgment, because Clark was so sure that you were just like your brother. But I refused to judge you on your family, and the next thing I knew, you were my best friend.” Her voice chokes off, and Lena forces herself to look away.

“You are my best friend,” Kara corrects herself. “And I didn’t want to screw it up. No one’s ever wanted to be my best friend before - besides Alex, I guess, and in the beginning that was only because she had to. But you,” she laughs softly. “you were so fiercely in my corner, about everything; being a reporter, CatCo, Mon-el being a jerk . . . I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that. And I wanted to be the same for you, because you deserve it. “

“If I deserve you standing up for me, then why couldn’t you just tell me who you really are?”

“Because - “ Kara huffs. “Because, okay, maybe for the first few weeks I was worried that you might turn on me because of your brother. But then I . . . I was selfish. Because you were the only person that I could be 'just Kara' around. I didn’t have to worry about being Supergirl. And then, the longer it went on, I knew that I should tell you, I knew you would be so upset when you found out and I couldn’t stand to hurt you like that. . . . I was afraid that you’d never forgive me.”

“Why do you even care? I’m just a Luthor, right.”

She’s prodding Kara to a more direct answer, she knows it, but she never expects what comes out of the other woman’s mouth.

“Because I love you, okay?” Kara’s eyes fill with tears as Lena’s heart jumps in her throat.

"And maybe there was some part of me that hoped that I could keep bringing you lunch and you’d keep sending me flowers and maybe I could pretend that you love me too. And I’m sorry that I hurt you, and that you found out the way you did; just know that I would take it all back if I could. I would tell you myself, even if it meant you would hate me.”

“Kara . . . “ she knows deep down that she can never hate Kara, no matter how much she wants to. “You don’t get to say that you love me just to get me to stop being mad at you.”

“I’m not.” Kara vows fiercely. “But if we’re laying all our cards out on the table, I thought that you should know. I love your passion, I love your fire. I love the fact that you always stand up for what you think is right - even if it differs from what I think. I love that you throw yourself into your work, and I hate the fact that you forget to eat. I love that you pour your heart and soul into the children’s hospital and that you refuse to let anything stop that. I love how snuggly you get after a couple of glasses of wine, but I hate how self deprecating you get. I just want you to see you the way that I see you, and I was afraid that you knowing I’m Supergirl would hurt that. I guess I hoped that deep down, you loved me too. And I don’t know what my game plan was for that, or where I hoped we would end up -“

“Kara!” Lena chokes it out, barely able to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks.

“Lena, I just -“

“Don’t.” She says for the third time that night, desperate to stop the words coming from Kara’s mouth.

“I had to let you know how I felt, I know it’s bad timing, but I had to tell you the truth. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Tears track down Kara’s face, but still, Lena stays strong, brushing past her and heading for the exit.

“Lena -“

It takes everything Lena has to ignore her, and move to the door.

* - - - - - - - -

Ever since Lex told her about Kara’s identity, she’s been in a fog.

She thought that it would get better once she had a chance to confront Kara.

What she didn’t expect was Kara’s . . . confession. It throws her for a loop, one she hadn’t seen coming in a million years. It should have made her ecstatic, it would have made her ecstatic in any other circumstance, but now it just leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Of course Kara would pick the middle of her Supergirl reveal to spill out her heart, of course.

It fits so well with the Kara she knows and loves. That she would be so open and vulnerable that she would decide to lay her whole heart on the line.

Lena loves it, but she hates it.

Every part of her is screaming that Kara is just manipulating her, the same way she’s been manipulated for her entire life - bribed with love and affection.

She refuses to fall into the old trap again.

She is a strong independent woman, and she doesn’t need someone else to complete her.

And it’s true, she knows it’s true.

She doesn’t need anyone.

But it doesn’t help that she wants Kara.

She ignores every text, every call; she even tells Jess to revoke Kara’s unlimited access to her office (and she’s met with a giant frown and a questioning glare that she knows she’s going to have to answer to later).

But still, when her stomach growls sometime after one, she wishes that Kara’s smiling face was bopping through her door, waving a sack of takeout.

Even minus the lunches, she misses Kara.

Which is why she finds herself stretching and heading to her office door - maybe she can ask Jess to order food and convince her that it wouldn’t be weird to eat lunch with her boss.

Only when she asks Jess to order out, the other woman looks at her . . . strangely.

“What?”

“I uh, already ate.” Jess says almost guiltily.

“Oh. Did you happen to order anything for me?” Lena tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, but it still comes out almost whiney. Before Kara, Jess always made sure to order lunch for Lena, even if she knew she wouldn’t eat it.

“Uhh, I uhh, didn’t order out.”  Jess’ eyes flicker to the mini fridge under her desk.

“Oh, ok.” Lena lets it drop, obviously Jess doesn't it want to talk about it.

Maybe she has a new crush that brought her lunch and she isn’t ready to talk about it. Filing the information away for later, she shrugs.

“Could I get you to order me something then? Maybe an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s? I’ve been craving one lately.”

Jess’ eyes go back to the mini fridge, and Lena leans over the desk to stare at it as well.

“Is there something in there I should know about?” She asks, her mind immediately going to a bomb; and it’s so twisted that a bomb is the first thing she thinks of being stored in a mini fridge of all places, but it’s not the oddest -

“Kara!” Jess blurts, and Lena shifts her gaze back to her assistant.

“Kara’s in the mini fridge?”

“No.” Jess sighs. “Kara brought you lunch, and it’s in there. I know you said specifically that you didn’t want to see her or hear from her, so I didn’t want to tell you about it, but she insisted that I take it, and you know how persistent she can be!”

“So when you said you already ate . . .”

“She brought me broccoli cheddar soup, and you know that’s my favorite and I should have just ordered out but -“

“Jess - “ Lena placates her with a warm smile that’s only half forced. “Just because I’m not speaking to Kara doesn’t mean you can’t. Besides, it was broccoli cheddar soup.”

“Your lunch is still in there if you want it?” Jess offers, gesturing to the mini fridge.

“Oh, I’m not really that hungry, I forgot I had a big breakfast.” It’s a lie, she hasn’t eaten since lunch the day before; and her stomach quickly betrays her with loud growl.

Jess raises her eyebrows pointedly before reaching to the fridge and taking out a container and passing it to Lena.

It’s an apple walnut salad from Noonan’s, with a folded note taped to the front.

Of course.

“Really, I’ll just wait til dinner. . .” Lena protests weakly, her stomach fighting hard against her stubborn will.

“If she asks, I’ll tell her I threw it in the garbage and you never even saw it.”

Lena narrows her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll eat it, but if she asks, tell her you gave it to me and I threw it in the garbage.”

“Whatever you say, boss, whatever you say."

[hu-meow]

Gentleman Jack 1x03

Alright so I had meant to get back to this sooner, but things happen and were we are. I also realize there are a few others that have done similar to this, and they have amazing and far more intellectual and elegant and analytical words for this type of thing. Mine is far more, uh, "I like this because of blah blah blah." Anyway...

1) Fresh from the Lake District, our Ann(e)s find themselves in some lovely conversation only to be interrupted by some Rawson relations. Ann would much rather in with Anne, alone, and it is very clear when she answers Mrs Rawson. "Oh, Miss Lister, you're here. We can leave..." Ann "Oh, if you'd like" HA. Bye bitch, don't let the door hit you on the way out. But alas, they stay. And then Anne flirts, in front of her mother and Ann with Miss Rawson. Ann does this little eyebrow raise, almost like she's thinking over what Anne says, so cute. And originally I was burnt to hell about there being no show of the Lake District trip, but after reading the companion book, Anne didn't go/meet up with Ann there, so I guess that makes sense. But still. Seeing Ann light up would have been very swoon worthy.

2) I keep forgetting to mention how much I love the intro. I never skip it, even after watching it as many times as I have. The only other opening I never skipped was GoT. So. Good job on that one, music/sound team.

3) I don't know French, but Elizabeth Cordingley's complete butcher of it still cracks me up. Any French speakers reading this? Does she even make sense? Is she understandable at all?

4) This little sneaky walk to the "shed" is cute. Obviously Anne has planned it, but Ann is oblivious. And Ann talking about the Ainsworth's. It's like she's hoping Anne will approve of putting them off. At first, we just assume it's because Ann just wants to travel with Anne. But of course, later we realize (at least how I took it) that Ann would rather Mr. Asshole not be anywhere near her. Man, the way the writing sets up everything is just too perfect. Anyway...Ann's (Sophie's) delighted face when she sees the chaumiere! So adorkable. How can you not fall in love with her? Anne totally is, that's for sure lol We get our first two lip licks here (07:12 and 07:54) with Ann being nervous but trying not to be. Suppose it's more anticipation. But she was ready for that damn kiss. She even leaned in, but of course, Anne knows how to draw out that moment, and it makes it even more satisfying. And then the little tongue thing after from Ann. (9:34) It just slays me.

5) A quick "thank you James" and then an up against the door kiss. HNNG. And "...stay all night." GURL. Talk about the Thirst. Went from first kiss to that in .002 seconds. LOVE. IT. It even throws Anne off. And she plans her conquests out. But you can tell Ann was moving FAR quicker than she'd anticipated. It's like Anne didn't even have to try. lol She has to court so hard with these other women, and then here goes little Miss Ann Walker, all but throwing herself at Anne LOL def wife material.

(this is really long, so I’m drop this here)

6) I love spaztastic Marian. I think I love it most because her character was so different in GoT. Much more like Anne's. And here she's so NOT that lol. Emma plays the part so well. Everyone does. God I love this show. The spat at the table was great, with Marian being Marian and Anne trying not to smile through it all. Such perfect sibling dynamic.

7) Captain Lister about to spill the tea and Anne walks in and is like "we don't fight" LOL then continues to lay the verbal smack down to Jeramiah, like "did I fucking stutter with my price?" Anne def has the biggest balls of them all.

8) "Will you tell Calligula" LMAO just great little line. And random, but why doesn't Marian sport the weird little curls at her ears like everyone else does? I think she had them like, once, in ep 1? and that's been it. Just curious about that.

9) Ann asks Anne a few times "are you all right" and of course, Anne's answer to everyone else is always "I'm always all right." but I'm almost certain, Anne always answers Ann with some type of explanation. (there is the 'nothing' before Ann goes to Scotland, but more of that when we get to that episode, and she does still answer. MY HEART). But from what I can remember, Anne doesn't front with Ann that she's "all right". She gives her something, she's open. She's still trying to be strong, but she allows that softness too. Which brings me to probably one of my most favorite kisses of theirs. Its just so slow, and tender, and it's almost a side kiss, and just idk. It's very beautiful. ALSO I noticed this time, that after the kiss, both of their hands are on the back of the chair, and their fingers/pinkies are touching (29:50) It's brief and you almost miss it, but damn. I need that giffed. gif'd? gif'ed? as a gif. It's just too precious. They cant kiss more because of where they are and Anne is about to leave, but their hands are hidden and they just need that little bit more of contact and its just HNNG.

10) I love Aunt Anne. She's just a treasure and she love Anne so much and wants her to truly be happy. And I totally want to start saying "off you pop" LOL

11) Okay, so even though the Ann(e)s have done a LOT together, it just feels like this dinner is their official first date. They both dress up, it's dinner, Ann is nervous again and she's rambling and it's so adorkable and Anne thinks so too and just smiles as she waits for Ann to get to her point. Then there's still some nervousness with after dinner tea, and Anne is like, well, first date done, time for the big one with a reassuring leg squeeze...and Ann gets to the very idea of it being a marriage on her own! Cue floored Anne once again. I swear every time Ann surprises Anne, she falls more in love with her little Miss Walker. Ann is doing the lip lick think (38:59) and omg the way she says, and especially her face for, "give birth" is just as great as the first time. That should be a gif too LOL

12) Fucking John Booth going to the wrong damn house! Come on dude, are you even paying attention to what/were your mistress goes?? Facepalm for days. I think that actually happened though, if I'm not mistaken (it's been a minute since I read the companion book, and I read it at like 3am, and slept since...but if not, whatevs.)

13) OMG the full blown make out! Complete with some grubbling!! I find it interesting though, that Ann has Anne stop, as it becomes "too much" yet she had been asking her to stay all night. I wonder if this is a nod to how indecisive Ann was, or if she just didn't quite understand how overly emotional the physical stuff would make her. Either way, we end up with FIVE (5) nervous lip licks here, folks. It was a hard scene to not blink through, and lots of 10 sec rewinds to catch it all (42:13, 42:37, 42:44, 42:46, and a half one but I count it anyway at 43:00. I think I got those times correct, anyway. Just watch the whole scene, really.) And then we end it was Anne's 4th wall break and Ann asking what she's looking at LOL I know there's talk about wanting Ann to have some 4th wall breaks in season 2, and as much as I would love that as well, it's sorta almost a joke that everyone has it BUT Ann. So, even if she doesn't in s2, I won't be horribly disappointed, especially if Anne does it again and Ann asks again LOL

14) There were other things I had notes on, but I'm skipping because this is longer than the first two, and I hadn't planned that. Ah well...Back to the Ann(e)s....LOL of all the places, why is Ann on the floor? I mean, safety? Protection? Because shes just too fucking precious? I'd assume yes. But Anne is so confused and ready to fuck someone up and then once Ann tells her, the look on Anne's face as she goes from worry to relief is just amazing. Suranne, you fucking goddess. And then all the comfort Anne gives Ann as the poor girl just cries and doesn't think she's good enough. And again, I think this is a bit because of Mr. Fucktard, pressing and getting what he wants no matter what, where as Anne stepped back and made Ann comfortable. I swear Ann doesn't know what it's like to be put first, that her concerns are heard and understood and valued. Everyone just pushes their opinion or wants on her, and she's just had to go with it over th years. She just doesn't even know how to react to Anne and her attentiveness. It's so refreshing for Ann, even if she doesn't fully understand it. And also, because Ann was a wreck, three more lip licks, shit four! (50:59, 51:14, 51:20, 51:44)

15) Fucking Mrs SneakAss Priestly. She can't just leave well enough alone. So bored she's gotta fuck with Ann's happiness. We're having some hella good grubbling, the first fucking "I love you" and this old biddy has to ruin the parade. Anne was hella quick to jump up though. Almost like she's done that before (even though, she totally hasn't, amiright LOL) Ann(e)s just standing there after Mrs P leaves, and omg lol Anne has this "well fuck, how do we turn this around" look, like her brain is really whirling and hoping Ann doesn't freak out, mean while Ann just loses her shit and busts out laughing. So great that happened for real, too. Ann Walker, you are fantastic. "do you want to go upstairs?" because, hello, someone has blue balls at this point. But it's so cute once they get up to Ann's room and the scene nearly ends with her lip lick (58:23). But those stares, like yeah, we're totally in this together now....

AH OKAY. FucKIng LONG. I'm sorry! I even cut some things, so if you made this far, thank you! This was a really good episode, really kicks off their momentum and is sorta the calm before the storm. Oh, I also started to take note of the dresses Ann wears, cuz I swear she only wears like five. so far I have: That Blue Dress, the pink/purple plaid (first kiss), the pink with the sheer puff sleeves (that's what she's wearing in my fave kiss), the pink with some design (flowers?) for the "date", and a pink/purple color she's wearing at the end. So, that is five, and I'll have to see what else she wears, if any (yes shes wearing something else in Scotland, and no, night clothes don't exactly count. though her with her side braid and yellow corset and bloomers is my fave in the whole series...more of that later.)

Counts:

*Anne 4th wall breaks (ep): 3

**Total: 11

*Ann's lip licks (ep): 13!

**Total: 19

(there was a lot this ep, so I'm not going to list them here. And there was a fair amount of lip presses, which are def honourable mentions and worth watching...)

[wings-of-a-storm]

Phew, I am half way through unraveling my thoughts on Lucas’ and Eliott’s big afternoon together. As the flirting gets more blatant, my posts get longer -- I don’t make the rules.

I’m saving your dashes with a cut though! :)

ELIOTT’S APARTMENT

So already one obvious question comes to mind: does Eliott live alone instead of with family? Because that room they were in screams bachelor pad. Plus there was no bed there, so no way is that tiny, cluttered room shared with anyone else as an actual living room. Not with Eliott’s drawings and belongings scattered everywhere. So if Eliott is living alone, I wonder how this will or won’t affect the setting of later plot.

BEER FOR TWO

Eliott saying he has some beer to lend Lucas and then coming out with a ‘suitcase’ of the stuff is pretty funny. I’m not sure if it is supposed to show us that Eliott likes to socialise a lot with friends, or that he might use it as a coping mechanism when his you-know-what gets overwhelming, or whether it is just to show us the difference in age/experience between them – that Eliott can afford loads of beer and is independent already to have such a cache of it stored up (he must surely live away from his parents!), or that he generally lives the life of a university student more than a highschooler (but I’m not French so what do I know?).

What I love though is that Elliot came into the room with two extra beers to visually lure Lucas into staying longer. He could have just asked Lucas if he wanted a beer and then gone off to get a bottle upon hearing his answer, but our sneaky Racoon wanted to make sure Lucas would really stay. How can you say no to someone already holding up beer (especially when they are already doing you a favour)? Plus having the item right in front of you is so hard to resist and so, I dunno, action-oriented (I’m sure there are studies on it). Smooth work there, Eliott. True lit student?

ELIOTT’S SPIRIT ANIMAL: THE RACOON

I love how open Eliott is with Lucas about his drawings; that he actually told Lucas that the racoon was meant to be a portrayal of himself. That is very personal information, right there.

BUT THE RACOON LOOKS SO SAD. DON’T DO THIS TO US, ELIOTT!

From the get-go, Eliott has been so open with Lucas and keeps offering bits of himself up even though Lucas doesn’t often reciprocate. Is this to make his secrets all the more painful? Because you get fooled into thinking Eliott is just this warm, open person who is upfront about everything? (Am I being too coy, Skam France? What I meant to ask was: is Eliott’s consistent openness a way to make the end of the episode that much more painful for Lucas? Because he was not expecting that sort of omission from Eliott? Ouch France. Very ouch.)

Anyway back to Eliott’s love of raccoons. How cute is it when Eliott got a little defensive when Lucas shortened ‘racoon’ to ‘rat’ and Eliott was like: IT IS A RACCOON! SHOW SOME RESPECT, BOY! Okay maybe it wasn’t so cute -- Lucas insulting the raccoon is like insulting Eliott and a representation he holds dear in his heart, and for a second, he seemed to take it to heart.

In Skam Italia, we had a deceptively brilliant spirit animal chosen for Niccolò and his state of mind (the giraffe whose heart fell in love before its head caught up), and now we have Eliott’s raccoon.

The most obvious connection Eliott has with racoons is from his own words: they wear a mask. Eliott points out this characteristic to Lucas in typical youthful exuberance, as if it is Zorro or something. But in reality, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt pretty sad hearing him say it despite his adorable smile – it feels like he is already masking (pun definitely intended) why he is drawn to the idea hiding your full identity.

It is pretty interesting how Eliott’s internal turmoil is already being foreshadowed, actually. In previous versions, we’ve seen the pictures his counterparts have drawn and stuck on their walls. We’ve tried to study them to figure out what our Evens were trying to creatively express about themselves as they drew them. But the drawings have never been overtly explained to us by their actual owner before! The mask reference is unmistakable and a real little gem of an insight into how Eliott views himself in the world.

Aside from feeling like he has to wear a mask, I wonder what other elements of the Racoon will come into the storyline later…

‘HOW WOULD YOU DRAW ME?’

Oh my god, Lucas. Just oh my god. No matter how many times I rewatch this clip, my jaw drops at how bold Lucas is. Like have you no shame, child?!

A) Asking Eliott how he would draw him is basically Lucas saying: LOOK AT ME. STUDY ME. TURN ALL YOUR ATTENTION ONTO ME. LET THERE BE A MOMENT IN THE WORLD WHERE ALL YOU DO IS THINK ABOUT ME.

B) I know we’ve all been joking about ‘Draw me like one of your French girls’ but it does feel that intimate. Drawing a portrait, whether it is a spirit animal or not, is an intimate affair. Not necessarily Jack Dawson’s naked ladies-of-the-night kind of intimate, but still exposing on some level. Lucas was basically all: I want to get intimate with you. Challenge accepted or not?

B) The context of their conversation was about spirit animals, about Eliott knowing himself so well, he can see his own characteristics in a specific animal. But how the hell is Eliott supposed to know Lucas well enough to nominate an animal or even have a basic concept of Lucas so early in their acquaintance? They have spoken twice. Lucas asking Eliott how he’d draw him assumes that he is important enough in Eliott’s sphere for Eliott to actually know him the way he’d know a close friend. And since Eliott doesn’t know him that way, it is almost like a challenge to get to know him that way.

C) It is such a huge assumption that Eliott would have the time to even verbally craft a drawing of Lucas. That, my friends, is a transaction. Lucas just robbed Eliott of a suitcase of beer and now he’s demanding something else from him? I know he didn’t ask for an actual drawing, but even just coming up with a theoretical one takes time and thought. The boldness, Lucas, the boldness.

It was all such shameless flirting. Can you imagine Isak or Martino being bold enough to be all: draw a picture of me, babe, and add me to your collection. It was like Lucas skipped testing the waters and just went straight for it.

But somewhere along the way, Lucas must have felt confident enough to go there. Was it because he had seen how open-minded Eliott was in Polaris? Or because he was picking up on their own vibe together? Whatever it was, he was comfortable enough around Eliott to truly flirt. Our baby gay is actually flirting with another boy! But it makes the betrayal at the end of their afternoon so painfullll. I am sensing a pattern here, Skam France: ouch!

And the flirting worked. Because Eliott saw what Lucas was doing and fought fire with fire: damn right he took the opportunity to study Lucas’ face, to openly gaze at him for as long as he wanted and really take him in. (And Lucas ‘bold gay’ Lallemant didn’t even drop his gaze!) I love how Eliott even tilts his head back and steps back for a proper look, like challenge accepted, Lucas Lallemant.

But, incredibly, the quality of his gaze seems to shift, as if we can actually see his artist mindset clicking into place while he appreciates the angles of Lucas’ features and enjoys them.

It felt like such an intimate moment.

Of course what happens next, my friends, is the moment when Eliott drops one of the biggest lies of his life: “I don’t know how I’d draw you.”

L.I.A.R. My mind legit screams that every time I see him take that swig of beer.

Seriously, did you notice Eliott’s foot trying to push the folder full of Lucas’ drawings under the couch? Okay I am joking but those sketches of him must surely exist somewhere. If just glimpsing Lucas on his first day of school inspired Eliott to take another look at Polaris (as seen by the dates on his instagram account), he surely would have doodled Lucas and some of the things he had seen him do with his friends. That sip of beer seemed so much like guilt and thinking fast to cover himself. He lowered his head and everything. Guilllllllty. (Either guilt because he had already drawn Lucas, or guilt because he just got a flash in his mind of the perfect sketch and it was too personal for sharing.)

What I love though is how serious Eliott suddenly sounded when he said: “I’ll have to think about it.” Like even though they had both been half-joking about the whole drawing thing, Eliott really does want to try drawing a portrait of Lucas in whatever form and he is so flustered about that desire when confronted with Lucas’ seemingly omniscient gaze.

And then Lucas does that eyebrow wiggle and Eliott goes from barely-holding-on flustered to send-help flustered. He not only broke the super charged eye contact with Lucas, but had to physically turn his head away to hide his face from him!

Not only that but he suddenly brings up smoking weed out of nowhere -- it had absolutely nothing to do with anything they had been talking about! I imagine it is because smoking weed is Eliott’s go-to method to calm down and he really needed to in that moment so it just came out of his mouth.

And, well, luckily for Eliott, Lucas is a snake that has no qualms about offering up his friends’ weed for further bonding time. ;)

As other people have already mentioned though, it is such a fascinating change that there is such mutual woo-ing going on; that Eliott is charming and Lucas sees it and raises it and ends up knocking Eliott out. It happened with the piano obviously, but this clip is where it really begins.

[3wisellamas]

Because there still aren't enough Deltarune theories: Fun Facts About Cards

So, I was thinking a lot about @pirenja's older post on Jevil and Seam as The Fool and The Magician, the first (or first and last, depending on who you ask) cards of the Tarot major arcana and which usually map to the Jokers in a standard playing card deck.  

There's also the MINOR arcana, though -- the plain numbers and suits that make up the rest of a Tarot deck, and look a LOT like a typical 52-card deck.  I knew about those, but didn't know those, so I got curious and spent a couple days looking into it, just for funsies.

So, uh...holy shit.  The card-based Darkners aren't just playing cards, they're TAROT cards.  The characters we know fit almost ridiculously well to their cards, and there were a couple parallels I found particularly interesting.  Allow me to infodump, and add in a few extra fun little things that also came up in some card research, and which might have some...interesting implications on the rest of Deltarune.  A lot of this is gonna come from Wikipedia, as well as this site.

Just a heads-up, this post is gonna include a lot of theories (some of which may or may not be pure crack) and will be LONG, and much of it will look like this:

...But in a fun way, I promise.  ~^

First, let's go over some REALLY brief info about some of the cards we've seen so far in Deltarune.  The ties between these guys and Tarot are pretty damn obvious, especially when you look at the four suits:

Diamonds:  In Tarot, their equivalent is Pentacles or Coins.  These are associated with wealth, business, and physical possessions.

Sounds a lot like the Rudinns and the King of Diamonds, right?  I mean, they're so obsessed with their treasure that they sold their beds to have more of it!

Hearts:  The Tarot equivalent is the Cups.  Associated with emotions and bettering oneself.  

Hathys are pretty big on emotion -- they're the ones you keep flirting with in encounters, after all, and the proceeds for Hathy's bake sale go towards their health.

Clubs:  The Tarot equivalent is the Wands.  This one I had to work a bit to figure out, but it seems to be more associated with social things, passion, and desire/drive.

Clover is definitely a social one, seeing as how they're throwing their birthday party in the castle when you arrive.  And they're also VERY passionate about three specific topics, which actually plays into pacifying them!

Spades:  Now for some fun.  In Tarot, these are Swords, and are most associated with...take a wild guess.  Ambition, power, violence, and the military.

Yep.  Shall we look a bit closer at the actual cards in the Spades suit, then?  

First off, the King of Spades/Swords.  The card is LITERALLY called The Warlord, and is associated with force and discipline, ruthlessness, intelligence, and sometimes coldness and abuse in a negative reading.  Pretty damn accurate to the King, I gotta say.  Not a lot of room for interpretation here.

The other Spade we know of, though?  A...little less clear-cut, but still works.  Lancer is the Jack of Spades, meaning his Tarot equivalent is the Page/Knave of Swords -- same card, just an older name -- which is indeed all about youth and energy, as well as learning and observing, and keeping cool in danger.  However, the card is also called The Spy, and also has a meaning of concealing oneself and keeping secrets.

Hm.  Some of that really sounds like Lancer, some...doesn't?  Perhaps our boy has an arc and some more character development ahead of him.  Or...I'll get back to this.  Because there is some interesting theory fuel here once I bring in another point.

Now, for a Spade we DON'T know yet, but that we know very well is coming:  The Queen.  The Queen of Swords is associated with intelligence, strategy, independence, and...repressed sadness and divorce?  Hm.

HM.  If the King of Spades is meant to be a Dark World mirror of Asgore, could the Queen end up being a dark mirror of Toriel, out in self-exile?  Time will tell.  And when we do finally meet the Queen in future chapters, she will very likely be one hell of a big deal, if the Tarot theme holds, so keep the card description in mind for that!

But, we can't stop at the Queen; we're missing a big, major detail.  In Tarot decks, and in fact in historical playing card decks in general, there are FOUR face cards of each suit, not just the three we see in a typical deck.  At the top are the King and Queen, obviously.  At the bottom is the Page or the Knave, as I said up there the equivalent of the modern Jack.  And the last one, between the Page and the Queen?  The Knight.

No, really.  The Knight is a CARD.  But, I'm gonna go further than that:  We already know someone, specifically a card person, in the Dark World who fits the description of the Knight of Swords/Spades, quite well in fact:

Associated with major, drastic changes -- pretty appropriate for the person who's been jailing kings and opening up dark fountains, huh?

Impulsive, and constantly takes actions without much planning beforehand.

Fanatical and single-minded, obsessively loyal to one thing and one thing only at a time.

Confident, to the point of arrogance.  Basically, obsessed with themselves.

Articulate, good with words, and a sweet-talker, able to get what they want through speech and charm alone.  Ironically, not often associated with direct action, and can mean cowardice.

Also, a bald-faced liar -- their whole thing is trickery and deceit.  They also keep a LOT of secrets, like the Page.

Worth noting, the Knight often replaces the Queen entirely in older decks, and is considered the card right under the King of Spades, as his main servant or advisor.

Notably, according to that Tarot site up there, they are heavily associated with major career changes and promotions.

You figured it out yet?

.

.

.

Oh yeah.  Worm knight.  

Let's go through some points with both Rouxls Kaard and that card description in mind, if you don't believe me.  

Uh, hello? ��Confident, impulsive, acts without thinking, fanatical, self-centered?  The card description may as well be the guy's Wikia bio.

Articulate...well, he tries.  Can't fault him for that.  (yes you can)

Honestly, aside from that "God.  Damn it." moment, can you give me one instance in which his manner of speaking WASN'T overly flowery and fancy, to the point of ridiculousness?  That's, like, his most defining trait.

He's a coward, never actually facing you himself until you reach the castle, and instead preferring to vandalize puzzle solutions and throw minions at you.

He seriously butters you up during the entire second shop conversation, and in fact almost constantly from the moment K.Round is defeated for the final time -- he says he's always on the winning side, which at the time is you, and does his best to claim he never truly opposed you at all, that everything was a test, he just wants to help you, etc.  The guy even tries to BRIBE you at the very end if you went pacifist, offering Susie a plate of worms for letting him lie about his involvement in your adventure, to boost his own ego.  

Did I forget to mention he's pretty much got a lot of the Rudinns and Clover (and a lot of fandom it seems) charmed with his looks and manner of speaking, and wrapped around his finger as well?  Because that.

Throughout the game, Rouxls really is nothing more than a big talker and a big liar.  Most obviously, the first time you talk to him in his shop he says quite a bit, but does a COMPLETE 180 on ALL OF IT after he's defeated for the final time, suddenly going from praising the King to hating his guts and claiming to be undermining him, from mocking the Fun/$!? Squad to praising them and offering assistance, and from complaining about Lancer to admitting he cares about the kid quite a bit.  

Also, consider:  His "ultimate puzzle", which he suspiciously refused to show us...

Even if it's not explicitly pointed out as such, Rouxls is King Spade's second in command, the guy serving directly under him in the castle in the absence of the Queen (or any other castle staff besides the guards, for that matter).  In very old decks before the Queen was a thing, Knights are in between the Page/Jack and the King and are considered the King's advisor/right hand guy.

Knights also have a lot of very close connections to Pages, both in card games as well as history.  A page is literally a knight's very young (age 7-14) apprentice and servant, and stick close to them and learn from them -- similar to Rouxls' lesser dad/son relationship with Lancer!  (Also, a thought:  medieval knights would often carry lances, supplied by said page!)

During battle, the King calls the Knight "My Knight".  This might confirm that the Knight is indeed a member of his own court, the Knight of Spades, and not of another suit.  However, from the tone and some of the other things he says throughout the battle, it’s clear that King Spade actually owes allegiance to the Knight, rather than the other way around.  Possibly even some fondness for him, from that particular tone.  And...I'm not gonna beat around the bush on this.  King Spade is totally Rouxls' sugar daddy.  The King just up and fires everyone in his castle, and gives this random unqualified prettyboy the next-highest position after himself out of absolutely nowhere?  Yeah.  No.  Even incompetent kings don't just do that.  There's something really weird going on there, something about their relationship that screams there’s some shady business going on behind the scenes.  Though, potentially, one could also flip the script, seeing the new job as repayment for putting King Spade in power...

One final point, getting a bit away from the card again.  In the game, The Knight is supposed to have a close connection with the Dark Fountains, able to “pull them from the Earth” and manipulate their power to bring darkness or whatever, right?  When using the Card Castle fountain to go home, Kris and Susie teleport in a massive column of white light, that looks like this:

(Sorry, screenshotting that particular moment is tough...)

Look a little familiar?

Yep, I'm gonna go there.  The same goddamn teleport animation.  Nowhere else in the game is that particular animation used, even when it kinda should -- for instance, Jevil’s scythes also teleport in vertical columns of light, but those look entirely different!

There's some other things about Rouxls that actually make me super suspicious of the guy, but one that does so even more now, that I really should bring up if I'm claiming him to be The Knight:  Remember that last battle against K.Round?  When Rouxls brings out his "Control Crowne"?  That lets him control anything “disc-shaped”, and (if we take Ralsei's word for it) looks incredibly painful?  

...What the actual living FUCK??!  Seriously, is no one else IMMENSELY ALARMED by the fact that not only is this crown a thing that exists, but for some goddamn reason it just happens to be in the puzzle guy's possession??

I'm bringing that point up for a pretty big reason, though:  Another name for the Diamonds/Pentacles suit is DISKS.  If Rouxls wasn't just bluffing (like he does on everything else, admittedly), there's a good chance he might be able to use that crown on Diamond cards as well.

And Rouxls DEFINITELY has a lot of interesting connections to Diamonds himself, beyond that.  Rudinns generally seem to be pretty enamored with the guy, and the whole suit is all about money and even represent the Merchant, or if you will, the shopkeeper class.  (And if you ask him why he’s selling things to you, he will admit he's raising money, for...some reason.)  In a four-color deck, Diamonds are usually represented by the color blue instead of red.  Also, Diamonds/Pentacles represent the Earth element, which is where one would find worms and insects.  So, he may very well have a close connection to Diamonds, as well as being the Knight of Spades...

I'll get back to that one as well, though, because there's another point I wanna bring into this whole card mess that might complicate things.  Because while researching, I found a very, very interesting little bit of trivia about the Joker card...

Second half of this post and a LOT more fun cracktheories under the cut.  Yep, you heard me, I'm still only halfway done here!

So.  The Jokers, Fool and Magician, former members of the card court, before...something went wrong.  You know how Jevil (and presumably Seam, as his only equal) can apparently do anything?  Well, while researching Tarot, I also randomly looked into the Jokers and their functions in a couple of other card games, the biggest being Spades, because why not.

In Spades, the Joker card can attach itself to any non-Spade card in the deck to make it count as the equivalent Spade, though still inferior to the real Spade card.  In other words, Jokers can turn other cards into Spades.

No, I'm serious.  Look for yourself.

This idea I’m mostly just having some fun with here, but if this little bit of trivia happens to come into play in the next few Deltarune chapters, it might have some SERIOUS implications on what we know about the Spades court.  In particular, it means we might not be able to take...really, any of the Spades characters we meet at face value (pun not intended, but appropriate).

But you know what?  I think we should take a closer look at the Spades we already know, and see if that might already be the case.  

The King fits his card description very well, and we actually see the other three kings locked up in a cage, so none of them could have been converted into the King of Spades.  So, we can pretty much confirm he's who we think.

But, then there's Lancer.  So far, he's the only Jack we've seen -- I know the card characters were originally based on a set of playing card designs by @kanotynes, and that the Jacks in that deck included not only Lancer but also the various minor enemies we see:  Rudinn, Hathy, and Clover.  But, in the game, those three don't seem to have any royal ties at all, definitely not as princes!  So, I think we can confirm that they're not actually the Jacks of other suits in Deltarune.

So, I'm gonna go back to my first Tarot loose end -- the Page of Spades/Swords, Lancer.  Remember how I pointed out some pieces of the card's description didn't fully match the kid?  The secrets, the concealing of one's true nature?

What if Lancer's not the Jack of Spades at all, but rather another Jack that was converted into a Spade by one of the Jokers for whatever reason?  Let's take a quick look at the other Pages, and see if one fits Lancer a bit more, shall we?

The Page of Hearts/Cups:  A "sweet-natured child", immature, creative, naive, a bad childhood, and self-centeredness.  Not a bad fit for Lancer, gotta admit!

The Page of Diamonds/Pentacles:  Planning for and seizing future success and opportunities, loyalty, sometimes associated with fruit trees and harvests (”Delicious little apple” / "Sweet little peach"?), and most importantly, a student, constantly learning just like the Page of Swords.  Also not a bad fit, though maybe a little less than the Page of Cups.

Now for the really fun one.  The Page of Clubs/Wands:  Inspiration, optimism, also creativity and making plans, rushing into things without thinking (appropriate for the Knight's charge...), "a bit of a cheeky charmer or lovable rogue", impatience, laziness, and a big emphasis on "losing yourself".  Also, did I mention that Wands represent the fire element?

So, really all three other Pages have elements that fit this kid in different ways, but some of the things about that Page of Clubs are...striking, to say the least.  This possibility might be worth keeping in mind when chapter 2 ever gets released!

Now, then, there's also another Spade we know, even if unconfirmed, with no known equivalents in other suits to rule out.  Could Rouxls also have been another suit, and got converted into the Knight of Spades?  

Remember all those weird connections to the Diamonds suit I pointed out?  Well, let's talk about the Knight of Diamonds -- A Red Knight, if you will!

"A young man who is dark of complexion and features."  This is an actual quote from Wikipedia. 

Defensive -- focus on protecting home and family.

Hard worker, determined, stubborn, finishing what you start.

All about questioning one's work or home life, or where they stand on an issue.

An animal lover.

The "wish card", about making your wishes and dreams come true, via perseverance and ambition.

Also, a negative interpretation is a loser or laziness, expecting results but not putting in the effort.  

Not a PERFECT fit, but still an interesting comparison, no?  Especially those things about fulfilling your wish, but failing by not putting in the effort required, kinda like how Rouxls is quite proud of becoming the high-ranking and privileged "Duke of Puzzles", but doesn’t actually put together anything other than simple block-pushing puzzles.  Another thought that comes up:  The control crown(e).  If Rouxls was originally a high-ranking Diamond/Disk suit, that fucking thing suddenly makes WAY more sense.  (Also, it would make all the Blue Diamond comparisons really funny in hindsight.  Just saying.)

Yeah, I know, claiming that Rouxls is the Knight is a big enough deal, and this extra cracktheory about him being a Knight who switched suits  is one even I'm admitting it’s crazy, and over-analyzing is just what I do.  Who knows if all or any of this will still be plausible by chapter 2.  However, worth noting:  If Rouxls was originally another suit, and got converted into the "Lesser” Knight of Spades/Swords by one of the Jokers, then there is very likely ANOTHER Knight of Spades/Swords out there, a much more powerful one.  Hm...

...Naaaah.  Too obvious. And on the same note, if my cracktheory about Lancer being the “lesser” Jack of Spades up there ends up actually being somewhat accurate, then there's also an original one out there somewhere...

...Maybe?  If you look at that description up there again, it actually seems to fit Ralsei even better than it fits Lancer -- the things about concealing one's true nature, keeping secrets, intelligence, and analysis suddenly become quite fitting.  And didn't Ralsei's original concept art include a reversed spade instead of a heart on the front of his robe?

So, if these are the case, what card is Susie?  I'm...admittedly not sure.  ^^;  I bet someone else can find a card that fits her though, so I'll leave that one open.

Okay, okay, I'm done with the wild theories now.  Lastly, I just wanna mention a couple of other interesting, weird card things I found out while researching.  Won't go as in-depth with these, but including them because why not:

A lot of people have been theorizing about the idea of Darkners bleeding like humans, and unlike monsters.  What if I told you that "bleeding" is an actual card term?  When you bleed your cards, you're accidentally exposing your hand to other players out of turn.

Remember when Rouxls called the party "mine amigose"?  Kind of an odd line, especially coming from him, but it was actually another card game reference!  Also from Spades is the term "Three amigos":  A nickname for the Ace, Queen, and King of Spades.  Interestingly, the Ace of Swords is all about cutting through lies and exposing the truth.  (Maybe that could be a card for Susie in future chapters?)

Hell, there’s just a LOT of card references thrown all over the place.  A cute one is when Jevil says “piip piip” during his fight -- like the dots on dice, the individual symbols on number cards are called pips.

Want another fun Tarot card meaning?  Take a good look at the Nine of Swords.  It's generally considered the worst card you could get, even in a mostly positive reading -- It's literally called The Nightmare, and represents fear, stress, being overwhelmed, grief, doubts, cruelty, etc.  Basically, if it's bad, it's in this card, up to and including a complete breakdown.  Now, recall another line that seems totally benign at first, courtesy of Jevil:  "From now, a nightmare will awaken in your hearts.  In the shadow of the Knight's hand..."  If I were y'all, I'd make damn sure to WATCH THIS CARD.

Also, "The Knight's hand"...of cards, perhaps?  :P  Okay, bad joke.  

There's sometimes three Jokers in a deck -- a white one in addition to black and red.  Just sayin'.  Might wanna also keep your eyes open for a third Joker in chapter 2, maybe chilling out with the Queen wherever she is? 

[theliterateape]

The Old Lady Who Hated Halloween Put A Sign Up Letting Us Know

By Don Hall

When I lived in Arkansas, there was a woman in our neighborhood who absolutely hated Halloween. I don’t know if it was that she was extremely Christian and found the themes of ghouls and monsters and magic to be offensive or if she simply didn’t like kids. Perhaps she had some sort of traumatic event on Halloween when she was younger. No matter. Every Halloween, she’d sit outside her house to scream at the kids as they would come up to her yard — every other home in the neighborhood was decked with fake spiderwebs and jack-o-lanterns and were reservoirs of candy. Chris (one of my roommates) and I would buy tons of the good stuff (aka full-sized Snickers, Twix, and Reese’s Cups) and had a blast with the kids. But not this lady. 

At first I was annoyed by her curmudgeonly attitude toward a harmless kid’s holiday. I mean, these weren’t the asshole kids who fucked with your house if you didn’t provide them the sugar-rush they so craved. These were mostly littler kids and the old lady scared them by screaming from her porch.

One year, as October was at the halfway mark, Chris went over to talk to her. He said later that he had suggested she put up a simple sign on her lawn that declared to all walking by that she did not participate in Halloween and that the kids should just pass her place by. It did not go well, according to him. She felt that she shouldn’t have to be singled out, that the children shouldn’t be bothering people anyway and why not just do away with the practice on the block altogether instead of forcing her to put up some sign.

We didn’t push the issue as it wasn’t really our business. On the day of Halloween, however, sure enough, she put up a very nice sign that said “This House Does Not Celebrate Halloween. Please Come Back at Easter and Candy Will Be Given Out Then.” And, lo and behold, the kids left her house alone. I don’t know if she gave out candy at Easter but I thought it was a nice way of dealing with it. She managed to protect herself adequately without forcing everyone else to stifle the joy and enthusiasm of the night which, despite it being Chris’s idea, I thought was both responsible and kind.

Just lately, Vice President Joe Biden is under attack for touching women inappropriately. He’s not being accused of sexually harassing anyone because the man is ebullient and tactile with men, women, children with no regard for sex. The man is just enthusiastic about hugging and showing affection in a physical way. I can’t say why so many women have an issue with this, as if consent is required in every physical interaction but I respect their position. Maybe they don’t want to be touched because they had a traumatic experience earlier, maybe because they grew up in less tactile families, maybe they are using this issue as a way to sour voters on Biden so Bernie or Kamala are more viable options. The why isn’t really all that important. 

What is important is that most people don’t mind him hugging them or the onslaught of complaint would be voluminous. I mean, over the forty or fifty years as a political figure, I’d guess the guy has hugged and enthusiastically greeted thousands upon thousands of people so the seven women complaining about his hugging them without explicit consent is a margin of a margin of a sliver of that number.

Most people don’t mind a big, friendly greeting. But a few do. They really do. They have prioritized their personal space in such a way that they feel requires everyone to forego the spontaneous joy encapsulated with a happy to meet you greeting. A backslapping, fun way of saying hello or showing affection. I think they are right to feel that no one should invade their person should they feel it is a violation but I hardly think their peace of mind is worth the stifling of joy that everyone else gets from a grand, high-minded hug.

My suggestion is simple. If you feel somehow that no unsolicited physical contact is appropriate, wear a sign or a t-shirt or a hat that declares that you do not want to be touched without expressed permission to do so. If you have kids who have suffered trauma and they need some sort of badge to indicate that grandpa shouldn’t tussle his hair, treat it no differently than a peanut allergy rather than expect everyone to stop eating peanuts.

It is completely your right to protect your personal space and for whatever reasons you may have. It is, however, unreasonable to expect those with no sexual or harmful intent to read your mind and somehow know that this will be interpreted as inappropriate. It is unreasonable to expect that no one ever engage in any spontaneous hugs because you don’t care for them. I’ll add that, unfortunately, this isn’t going to stop the assholes looking to cop a feel which is an entirely separate issue but it will let the Joe Biden’s of the world, the truly gregarious, genuinely affectionate humans out there understand where your boundaries are.

I suppose a better way of looking at it (and in an unusually funny piece of satire on behalf of SNL) is this (watch it to the end):

The saddest thing I can imagine is the looking out among all the people in the world and only seeing predators when so many simply are not. Some, like Joe Biden, are just really nice people who like to express their affection by getting up in there and touching you. I’d prefer to live in a world where those people are not shut down because there’s enough anger and suspicion in society as it is to paint us all as monsters.

I’ll quote a Faceborg post of a friend who sums this up so much better than I can:

As both a woman and a survivor, I actually have a problem with the idea that this whole thing is supposed to be about women reclaiming their voices and rejecting victimhood. Barring obvious and egregious assault, if you can't own your own boundaries and articulate them at the time they're being breached, that is the opposite of empowerment and the epitome of victimhood.

Maybe articulating those boundaries is uncomfortable for whatever reason. I get uncomfortable asking for a raise even when I know I deserve it. But I don't make my boss read my mind that I want a raise and then torch him two years later because he didn't give me one. Life is sometimes uncomfortable -- learning to recognize and enforce our boundaries respectfully (unless real danger is involved), and learning to operate outside of our comfort-zone sometimes, are fundamental adult skills. Sometimes we'll be better at it than others, but it's not reasonable to expect others to know my boundaries, nor is it reasonable to expect everyone else to adopt my boundaries just so I'll never, ever be uncomfortable.

When I was in my early 30s I moved to a new town where I knew no one. A friend of mine contacted a friend of his and before I even got there I had been invited to a party by someone I'd never met. This guy was part of a close-knit group of friends; the very next time I saw these people, the women hugged me and the guys all kissed me on the cheek to say hello, even though I had only met them once. It was clear that this was how they always greeted one another, and not only did I not take offense at near strangers touching or kissing me in what was obviously meant to be an affectionate gesture, but it actually meant a lot to me to be so quickly and obviously accepted as part of this group during a particularly lonely time in my life, and to know that they were happy to see me. FWIW, I eventually married one of them.

So why is it okay that someone who doesn't communicate her own boundaries gets to decide that her boundaries should be the default for the rest of us? If I had been a different person, perhaps I might have felt uncomfortable with physical affection from people whom I'd just met, but then it would have been my responsibility to say so. Maybe it would have been awkward. Maybe I might have been afraid that if I rejected their gestures they wouldn't like me. But on the flipside, if that's all it took for them to withdraw their friendship, I would have been better off without that friendship in the first place.

I certainly respect someone else's right to feel that discomfort. But I don't respect their right to impose it as the standard by which everyone else has to operate, especially when they don't speak up for themselves and give people the chance to respect said boundaries. (Again, I'm not talking about egregious words or acts like, say, talking about grabbing women by the pussy....)

The world owes none of us a life free of all discomfort, free of all awkwardness, free of all confrontation. And this kind of hysteria robs young women (and the rest of us) of real agency instead of teaching us to speak up when it really matters, to shake off that which really doesn't, and to understand that that line is different for everyone.

— Risa McDonnell

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Resurgence

A Jacksepticeye Fan Fiction

Part Three: Reunited

Previous | Next

Summary: The boys are all back together after Schneep’s reappearance. After a short debriefing, Chase decides he needs to call someone

“He’s not answering,” Marvin told the others, looking up from the phone’s screen where he’d been repeatedly texting Chase.

Jackie paced the floor. “You don’t think something happened to them? I mean, I know it’s not exactly a long way from the hospital to here, but it’s long enough.”

“I’m starting to get a little annoyed with the lack of information,” Marvin grumbled. “‘Hey, by the way guys, our missing friend has reappeared. No need to know how or why, I’ll explain later.’ Now it’s later, and they’re nowhere to be seen and there’s no explanation.”

Jackie, Marvin, and JJ were all sitting in the living room of Jackie’s apartment. Or rather, JJ was sitting in the only armchair, while Jackie paced and Marvin leaned against the wall near the window.

The apartment was small, meant for only one or maybe two people to live in. Jackie’s crappy job meant he couldn’t get anything bigger, and it’s not like superheroing paid well. Still, Jackie somehow managed to fit a red sleeper sofa, a blue armchair, and a blue beanbag in the room, along with a coffee table that had comics and figurines strewn about on its surface. The dark red paint on the walls was nearly hidden behind countless posters. A modest kitchenette rested in the corner near the apartment’s door. Two other doors led to the bathroom and bedroom, and a rickety fire escape could be seen through the window.

Maybe you should try using the telephone for its intended use, JJ signed, instead of fiddling with the buttons.

“I know for a fact that you appreciate texting,” Marvin pointed out.

But a persistent ringing will be harder to ignore than a short chime, JJ countered.

“Alright, fine, if they don’t show up in three minutes I’ll call Chase,” Marvin relented.

A few silent moments paced, broken by the sound of Jackie’s boots clacking against the wooden floorboards. JJ took a pocket watch out from his vest and stared at it. Marvin sighed and folded his arms. Then, the intercom buzzed. Jackie jumped, then quickly walked over to the spot on the wall and pushed the button to talk. “Chase, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s us!” Chase’s voice came through the tinny intercom system. “Can you buzz us in?”

“How do we know it’s really you?” Marvin yelled across the small room.

“Um...I don’t know...do we need a test?” Chase sounded confused.

Jackie glared at Marvin. “I don’t think so.”

“Hey Chase, what’s your favorite color?” Marvin ignored the hero’s words, smirking at him.

An angry-sounding voice yelled something in a foreign language. “We do not have time for this! Press the button to buzz already!”

Marvin and Jackie exchanged looks of shock and relief. JJ looked confused and nervous. Is that your friend? he signed.

Jackie nodded, then said into the intercom, “Alright, buzzing you up now.” He pressed the button.

Everyone got settled quickly. Schneep and Chase had collapsed on the sofa immediately upon entering the apartment, and Jackie had joined them with his personal first aid kit. JJ hadn’t moved from his spot in the armchair, but he now sat stiff and straight, and he kept glancing nervously at Schneep. Marvin had moved to the beanbag, but instead of relaxing he was on high alert, fidgeting with his wand.

“Schneep, bro, it’s so great to see you again, like, I would be jumping up and down with excitement right now if I weren’t worried the neighbors might complain about me,” Jackie said. “But what in the ever-loving fuck happened? Chase, you answer too.”

Chase opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead he merely blinked a couple times before closing his mouth and looking down at his hands. Schneep scowled and said, “It does not matter. There are more important things to talk about. For example, who is this man?” He pointed at JJ.

“Stop moving around, I’m trying to figure out your injuries,” Jackie said, exasperated.  “But fair enough. Schneep, meet Jameson Jackson. JJ, meet Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein.”

JJ waved, putting on a smile. It wasn’t hard to tell he was on edge.

Schneep narrowed his eyes. “You look familiar to my eyes...”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we all look pretty similar,” Marvin jumped in. “We’re all each other’s doppelgangers, now let’s move on. Where have you been? How are you back? I mean...if you want to talk about it.”

Schneep looked around at the others. “...how much do you know?”

Marvin blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Chase, he told me that you have all had encounters with that—that thing that looks like he came out of a broken video game. But how much do you know about him?”

The four others exchanged looks. Marvin and JJ silently gave Jackie looks of ‘you tell him.’ “Well, we know his name, and we know not to say it,” Jackie said slowly. “We know he needs a host, and he wanted Jack for that. He was the one behind Jack’s throat on Halloween two years ago. And he tried to attack him again, but you intervened and saved Jack back in August.”

The doctor’s expression flickered a bit at that, but he said nothing.

“And most of all, we know he’s all about fear and pain and is generally a terrible fucking person, if he’s even a person,” Jackie finished.

“Also, we’re all on his shit-list now,” Marvin added.

Schneep nodded. “Ah yes, that that all sounds correct. Chase, would you like to explain further?”

Chase looked around at the others. “I—” The single syllable came out sounding strangled and choked. He took a deep breath, then rushed out the explanation. “I didn’t want to do it but he came to my house last night and told me he had the kids and if I ever wanted to see them again I should do what he said so I went to the hospital—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Marvin held up his hands. “Slow down. An—he took Bobby and Trevor?”

Chase nodded. The others could see the tears in his eyes. “Yes.”

JJ frowned. How do you know he was telling the truth?

Chase stared at him. “What do you mean?”

He could have been lying, JJ signed hesitantly. If you went through with whatever he wanted, and it turns out your little ones were fine the whole time, he easily could have used that to make your mental state even worse.

“I...that didn’t even occur to me...” Chase was shocked. What if he had done it, and for nothing? What would that have done to him?

“I think we would need to check, then,” Schneep said. “Chase, as much as it hurts, you are going to have to call your ex.”

“Wait, Schneep, you read sign language?” Marvin asked.

“Of course I can, I am qualified doctor,” Schneep waved it away. “But I think that is most important, to check on Chase’s family.”

“What about what happened to you!?” Jackie asked incredulously. “You disappear for nine months, in a situation related to this—this glitch bitch haunting us, then suddenly come back, and you’re all messed up, but you keep wanting to move on. I’m no doctor, but I know it’s not a good idea to bottle up all your emotions.”

“I can do all the touchy-feely scheiße later,” Schneep insisted. “I do not know myself how I am back, but I am. And is good thing I came back at this time, because Chase was in the middle of a crisis that I helped avert, and now I learn his kids are probably missing.”

“Jackie, there is an immediate danger here that we need to take care of,” Marvin said. “I thought you were supposed to be a defender of the innocent. You know, like children.”

The hero turned on him, ready to shout that our friend is probably traumatized and denying it what is wrong with you, but he stopped. Marvin was staring at him sympathetically, as if to say, I know, but he’s out of physical danger and there’s a chance the kids aren’t so we have to prioritize. “...fine,” Jackie relented. “Fine. Fine. But we’re not done with this.”

“That is okay,” Schneep said. “Now can we decide what we need to do?”

“I should call Stacy,” Chase muttered. “See if Bobby and Trevor are safe or...not. Then I guess we could all go home.”

“Um, I’m not sure, but I think that most landlords have a problem with tenants who disappear without a trace for nine months and show no sign of coming back,” Marvin said. “So, uh, Schneep might not have a place to stay.”

“He can stay with me, I’ll have room now that JJ’s moving out,” Chase said.   “What about you? The hotel’s probably gonna kick you out soon.”

“I can room with JJ, if that’s alright.” Marvin looked at the silent man, who responded with a mustache wiggle and an a-OK sign.

“Okay. Then...” Chase stood up. “I guess I have a phone call to make.”

[safarikalamari]

Coin Flip (Tails)

Summary: Spot sees Race every day, but Race doesn’t notice him. That’s just fine with Spot.

Pairings: Spot/Jack, Spot/Race

Rating: G

Genre: Canon Era, Crushes, Slice of Life, Past Relationships

Words: 2197

A/N: Companion piece to the first Coin Flip story! The readers got me motivated to write a part from Spot’s POV. Also, don’t worry, no cheating happens in this

-

AO3

or

Spot remembered the day Race showed up in Brooklyn clear as day.

Race had followed Twisty around like a lost dog, begging and pleading to sell at Sheepshead until finally, Twisty had enough.

As Race bounded away, Twisty yanked Spot from his hiding place and pointed at Race’s retreating form. “Keep an eye on him. Report back to me.”

With a single nod, Spot trailed behind Race, blending in the streets whenever Race looked over his shoulder. He was glad Race had that much sense in him, but he couldn’t help his small laugh when they reached Sheepshead, Race blowing all his money on bets.

If he had just come to gamble, Twisty would have let Race be with no trouble.

Sitting outside the gate, Spot stared at the clouds, imagining their shapes as he waited for the races to be over. It was too long before the announcer spoke loud and clear from the stadium and Spot tucked himself in a nearby alley as he waited for Race to appear.

He was easy to find, a mess of a kid mixed in with fine gentlemen and squalors alike and Spot started on his tracking again. True to whatever promise Race had babbled on to Twisty, he went directly towards the bridge, a bounce in his step.

Spot scowled. If Race did as he was told, then this was going to be no fun at all.

~

Race came every day.

Spot had hoped to have some days without spying on Race, but as soon as Twisty was alerted of Race’s arrival, there was Spot two steps behind.

Making sure his papers had been sold quickly, Spot took to whittling as he waited for Race to leave Sheepshead. It was better than staring at the sky and Spot looked over the bird in his hand.

“Dove?” A voice pulled Spot from his thoughts and he squinted.

“Nah, pigeon, Kelly.”

Jack shrugged, plucking the wooden bird from Spot’s hand. “Look all the same to me when they’re like this. Should let me paint it for you.”

Spot’s heart skipped and he pursed his lips. “If you wanna.”

Jack pressed up against Spot’s side, leaving Spot to blush at the sudden touch.

“You uncomfortable?” Jack asked as he tucked the bird away in his pocket.

“Nah,” Spot shook his head, leaning into Jack. “Just didn’t know we were at this point is all.”

A smirk grew on Jack’s face and he shrugged, glancing all around them. “Heard you were following one of my newsies is all. Didn’t want you making assumptions about him.”

“Don’t got none besides gambler,” Spot responded. “He does his business and leaves. Kinda boring if you ask me.”

Jack laughed then, shaking his head. “Then you oughta spend time in Manhattan. Kid’s wet behind the ears to this pape business, but he’s smart. That’s what’s scary about him.”

“Scary,” Spot repeated, almost rolling his eyes. “Okay, Jack.”

“Calling me Jack now, huh?”

Spot ducked his head, kicking at a particularly interesting pebble on the ground. What he and Jack were was unspoken. They veered on the edge of dangerous, too much too quickly. He wasn’t in love, no, but he never did shy from sharing a kiss with Jack.

“I’ll take you someplace nice for dinner first,” Jack spoke low, close to Spot’s ear, and Spot jumped away.

To his relief, the races were over and he nodded to Jack before he sped after Race’s retreating figure. He didn’t want to think about what Jack had just said.

Oblivious as ever, Race whistled as he walked down the street and Spot grinned to himself. This was nice. No talking, no intruding thoughts, just Spot’s duty of watching Race.

He could get used to this.

~

Spot sat on the fire escape, his legs dangling off the edge as he overlooked the streets.

Up here, he felt like Twisty, surveying Brooklyn, keeping an eye on everything and everyone. It might be nice one day to be in that position and Spot hoped his efforts were being noticed.

Seeing a familiar figure trail down the streets, Spot perked up, his movements stilling as Race walked past the lodging house. He didn’t even glance up, but Spot didn’t mind, allowing him to watch Race as long as he could. Once Race was out of sight, Spot shot from the fire escape and down into the streets to follow after Race.

Today, Race stopped in an alley to light his cigar, taking a few puffs and blowing the smoke up into the air. From his view across the way, Spot wondered what it’d be like to talk to Race. He had heard his voice as he hawked away, passing compliments to strangers, but nothing serious passed Race’s lips.

Not his deepest thoughts, his concerns of the day.

Spot shrank into his hiding place and frowned. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to care about Race. All that mattered was his business. Why he chose to sell in Brooklyn rather than Manhattan.

By the time Spot shook himself from his thoughts, he almost lost Race, running down the streets to catch up. Again, Race disappeared into Sheepshead and Spot didn’t follow.

Pulling out a piece of wood, Spot shrank back to his usual seat and whittled away, hardly noticing the face his fingers were carving for him.

~

Jack was too close and Spot turned away, catching his breath.

“Spot, what’s wrong?” Jack asked, concerned as his hands held onto Spot’s waist.

“Nothing,” Spot lied, trying to find a place for his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

This wasn’t anything new to them, but all Spot could feel was irritation. Usually, he let himself fall into Jack’s embrace, the two of them savoring the physicality, but now, Spot didn’t want that.

“Okay.” Jack wasn’t convinced and he pulled himself away until he was at the opposite side of the alley. “Speak, Conlon.”

Spot glared at Jack, fists clenching at his sides. “I just don’t wanna do anything tonight.”

The corner of Jack’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t rush to argue. Instead, Jack turned his gaze to the entrance of the alley where the street still shined with the rain from earlier.

“Who is it?” Jack drove the nail into Spot’s heart.

Spot held his composure, breathing out as he met Jack’s wandering eyes. “No one. I just...I think what we got doesn’t work no more.”

Race was a well-guarded secret and Spot wasn’t going to spill his heart to Jack. Not yet. He wanted time for them to move on, for Jack to find someone that wasn’t him.

“All right,” Jack seemed at a loss for words, his voice cracking just a little. “That’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Spot tried to apologize, but he wondered if he was so sorry after all.

Seeing Jack’s forlorn face tore at his heart, yet Spot felt relieved. He didn’t want either of them dragging each other along, not when they weren’t even something established. Jack’s reply came in a singular nod before he headed into the street without a goodbye, Spot following to the end of the alley and watching Jack disappear into the night as he sighed.

This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go, Spot was drowning in his confusion. He didn’t even know Race and here he was, taking over any coherent thought Spot had left.

With a small huff, Spot marched back to his lodging house all while thinking of how to be rid of Race for good.

~

Race was smiling.

Spot was too far away to say just why he was, but it was nice. The grin lit up Race’s entire face and he seemed just excited as the other newsie with him as they chatted on.

It was easy enough. Spot could go up and join the conversation, but he remained where he was. After cutting off what he had with Jack, Spot didn’t want to jump into things. His heart still needed healing, surely.

He had felt something for Jack, but it wasn’t like what he felt with Race. Race was exciting, new, while Jack had been a comfortable routine. Spot knew Race could fall into the same category, but Spot didn’t want to think about that.

When Spot had fallen for Jack, there wasn’t a spark, just mere acceptance. Now, Spot found himself aching for Race’s attention, to have that smile exist because of him.

Holding onto himself, Spot tucked into the alley, taking a breath.

As nice as this was, he hated it just the same. He had pushed away a good thing for the uncertainty of Race. He and Jack could’ve been the fearless leaders of their boroughs, brothers in arms, if Spot ever made it to being a leader. Now, all that had been severed for a whim. Spot would be lucky if Jack ever spoke to him again.

Laughter rang clear in the air and Spot stuck his head out of the alley, watching as Race and Clover walked by, not even noticing Spot’s presence as they stayed in deep conversation.

It was all for the best.

Spot wasn’t ready to speak to Race. There was still too much that needed to be sorted out. It had to be perfect.

Staring after them, Spot’s heart grew heavy and he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. Race was a faraway dream and Spot could feel him slipping away one day at a time.

~

Spot blinked, hoping Twisty would repeat his words.

“Spot,” Twisty waved his hands in front of Spot’s face. “Can you hear me?”

Shaking his head, Spot met Twisty’s gaze, finding his words. “Me?” he managed out with a small squeak.

“Yes, you,” Twisty ruffled Spot’s hair and Spot swatted his hand away. “You know Brooklyn best, all the kids respect you, it was meant to be.”

Spot wanted to question Twisty’s judgement, thinking of all the times he was chewed out for the littlest mistakes. Even his hardest work didn’t seem to gain any of Twisty’s favor, but Spot was beginning to think Twisty was hiding more than he wanted to admit.

“Well, I won’t let you down,” Spot puffed his chest out, standing tall.

“You better not or I’ll have to come down from the factory to soak you,” Twisty winked as he walked past Spot out of the room.

Letting out a breath, Spot took a moment to collect himself. He was Brooklyn’s leader now. The responsibility was daunting, but this had been his dream for so long. To be respected, his efforts recognized. Most of all, this was his chance.

He could finally work up the nerve to speak to Race. Spot was sure Race wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to speak to the new kid in charge. How perfect this all was, scenario after scenario swarming through Spot’s mind.

Smiling to himself, Spot thought out his plan, nodding to no one as he left the room. He was ready to meet Race and he hoped Race was ready too.

~

Race was a goddamn tease.

Spot was still frozen, watching Race leave and he was glad he had enough sense to say goodbye to him.

He let out his first breath when Race rounded the corner and he stubbed out his cigarette before shoving his face in his hands.

“What, Clover?” Spot muttered out when he heard nearby rustling.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted me to follow him or something,” they asked, barely caught above the noise of the ship workers.

Spot dragged his hands down his face and sighed. “Yeah. Follow him. Let me know what he does.”

With a nod, Clover bounded away and Spot shook his head climbing up onto his perch on the docks. His newsies would be filing in soon, reports of the day, taking a break from their selling. He supposed news of his position traveled fast and Race wasn’t going to be the only foreign newsie he’d see today.

Race was the only one that mattered however.

With his crooked grin, his shining eyes, Spot could feel his heartstrings being pulled at and he traced his finger along a crate, not realizing until halfway through that he was spelling out Race’s name.

A blush rose to his cheeks and Spot wanted to laugh at himself. He wasn’t supposed to get tangled up in a mess like this, yet here he was, thinking about Race and their first official meeting. At least he wasn’t following him like usual. Not that Spot would have much time for that anymore.

Needless to say, Spot was curious what Race would do, if he would feel the same way as Spot some day. Even if he didn’t, Spot was content enough with friendship. However, Race had accepted his cigarette and in an odd way, Spot might consider that their first kiss.

Groaning, Spot leaned back until he almost fell off his crate and he rushed back forward, a small laugh leaving him.

Whatever was to happen between him and Race, Spot could only hope for the best and in all honesty, he couldn’t wait to see what awaited them.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Second Chances 1

A/n: no warnings 

Summary: Elena left heaven with Gabriel. Now she’s human after a run in with Michael and helping Team Free Will. When Gabriel shows back up her seemingly cozy and calm life is going to spin out of control. 

Words: 2, 302

Pairings: Gabriel x ofc

Rating: Will be mature later

_________

“Cas why are we in a coffee shop? You hate coffee.”

Dean asked looking around the coffee shop. Cas looked over his shoulder a bit annoyed with Dean’s questions.

“I am looking for another angel. She could help us right now.”

Dean frowned.

“Do we have a sign that says help wanted? Man the bunker is getting full as it is!”

Cas stopped walking and turned back to Dean.

“She will be a wonderful help with Jack. This girl is a wonderful person! She has helped me in many bad times right now she needs my help as well too.”

Dean raised an eyebrow wondering why Cas was so prissy over this girl for? Cas turned back away from Dean looking around the room until his eyes stopped on a girl sitting a lone booth.

“This way.”

Cas said motioning forward. Dean’s focus fell on the girl who was looking down at a book in front of her. She didn’t look much like an angel to Dean. Instead, she looked like some shy kid that was in college.  Her long dark brown hair flowed down her chest framing her face. As she looked down further at the book on the table her bangs fell into emerald green eyes.

“Hello Elena.”

She looked up at the sound of her name being called.

“Castiel?”

She quickly stood wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Cas frowned immediately looking down at  at her.

“Elena ….you’re….human.”

Elena straightened back up. She looked around the room coffee shop making sure that there was no little ears listening. Her emerald eyes rolled back to Dean focusing on him. Cas noticed the worry on her face.

“Elena this is Dean Winchester.”

Elena quickly at Cas as if she was shocked to even be in Dean Winchester’s presence.

“The Dean Winchester?”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah I’m that guy. Hope I’m better looking than what you have been told.”

Dean was relived when the girl smiled at that comment.

“You do look extremely compelling.”

Cas rolled his eyes.

“Don’t encourage him.”

Elena motioned to the booth that she was sitting in. She smiled warmly at Cas before scooting Dean a cinnamon roll.

“What can I do for you Castiel?”

Cas tilted his head.

“What’s happened to you Elena?”

Elena pressed her lips together. This was clearly the question that she was dreading. Twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger she finally looked back to Cas.

“Michael….he took my grace. He found me not long ago. It think he was looking for Gabriel. He blames me for Gabriel bailing on heaven. Said me being human was punishment enough. He also said it was my punishment for choosing you when you were god over Raphael when you were God.”

Cas’ frown intensified.

“You lost your grace because you wanted to support me?”

Elena nodded before replying in a extra sassy tone,

“Uh yeah? Cas we have been friends for many years. I would support you before I would any archangel. In all actuality we are turning out a lot better than they are right now. Raphael is pretty much powerless, rumor has it Michael has lost his mind which I can totally agree with, Lucifer is doing whatever it is he does, and Gabriel I don’t know where the hell he has made off to.”

Dean glanced at Cas. He was about to say make a joke about Gabriel being dead until Cas kicked him hard. Cas took a breath.

“Elena, Gabriel is dead.”

Elena’s mouth dropped. She looked like someone had just yanked the carpet out from under her.

“How? When?”

Dean took a breath. The last thing he wanted was some girl going apeshit and start crying over a dead archangel. However, at the same time the look on her face made Dean’s stomach twist in sympathy

“Look I don’t know what you relationship with Gabriel was but he died a hero. Stubborn ass better be happy with that comment too. I give out two a month and he just got one. I gave him hell several times and he actually listened finally. He saved mine and my brother’s ass. He didn’t have to but he did.”

Dean said calmly. Cas meanwhile, was less than amused.

“Elena I am sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen to you. I know that Gabriel meant a lot to you.”

Elena was quiet a moment before speaking.

“Cas, I know you didn’t. You don’t have to start apologizing so don’t! About Gabriel…he did mean a lot to me but he made his choice when it came to us. I just have to accept that.”

Her eyes focused on Dean, who was still looking confused.

“Let me explain a few things. It may ease your confusion. Gabriel and I used to be together in the sense that you humans put relationships. We left heaven together when all of the archangel’s fighting became too much for Gabriel to bear. After coming here we laid for a while until Gabriel decided to turn himself into a pagan god. Long story short I got tired of this lifestyle very quickly and gave him the ultimatum that he was either with me or I was gone. Apparently I used to be a bit of a prude, now not so much. Well you can clearly see what choice that Gabriel made. After that we split and I haven’t seen him since.”

Cas sighed.

“Elena, you were living the way that we were raised to be. We were raised to be monogamous to our mate. Gabriel didn’t handle that situation correctly.”

Elena smiled.

“Cas its fine. I forgave Gabriel a long time ago. Whatever he did I hope it made him happy. I’m proud of him for standing up for the right in the end. I hate to know that I will never have a chance to see him again. That bothers me more than anything.”

Cas hadn’t moved his hand from Elena’s. This physical contact seemed to be the most soothing thing for the both of them at the moment. Elena swallowed back the tears that she was holding inside before looking back to Cas.

“Cas I know you came for a reason. What can I do for you?”

Cas nodded.

“A nephilim has come into being. I have custody of him and need all of the angelic help that I can. I understand that you are not fully angelic now but you are my first choice of someone to trust.”

Elena’s mouth had dropped.

“A nephilim?!”

Again glancing over her shoulder to make sure that there were no eaves droppers listening in.

“Cas, how did this happen?”

Cas pressed his lips together.

“Lucifer…”

Elena held a hand up.

“Say no more. Oh my goodness! I don’t even know what to say. The child….how is he?”

Dean smiled.

“Actually a pretty cool kid. Seems to think that Cas is his father. The funny thing is he actually acts like him too.”

Elena looked at Castiel with happy eyes.

“Well he has the best choice of a guardian but Cas I don’t know anything about children”

Dean smirked while Cas tried his best to make his gravely voice as soothing as possible.

“I need all the help with Jack that I can get. He’s actually not a child. He was born a young adult.”

Dean took out his cellphone thumbing through his photos before finally finding one of Jack and sliding it across to Elena. She picked up the phone gazing at the picture of the young man.

“Um Cas are you sure you aren’t this boy’s father?”

Dean laughed.

“See Cas told you!”

Cas shook his head.

“No, I’m not but I am more than happy to say yes that I am.”

Elena was quiet for a moment before looking back to Cas.

“I’ll be happy to do whatever I can. It will definitely beat being alone like I have been.”

The next afternoon Dean, Cas, and Elena arrived back at the bunker. Dean sat down Elena’s suitcase with a grunt.

“Son of a bitch lady what do you have in there? Please tell me that you don’t collect rocks?”

Elena raised an eyebrow.

“I like to read.”

Dean nodded.

“Well that explains it all. I think that you and Sammy will be great friends. You can nerd out together. Sam is my brother by the way.”

Elena smirked.

“Yeah, I put that together. Thanks for letting me stay here.”

Dean nodded.

“Of course. You’re helping us with the kid so the least we can do is give you a place to crash.”

The following two months moved peacefully. Everyone was getting along wonderfully! Jack was responding really well to Elena. Soon enough Elena was helping Sam and Dean with small hunting jobs. Dean and Cas weren’t the least bit inclined to let her do anything too crazy! Keeping her home and safe with Jack seemed like the best decision that they could make.

One night Elena sat in a bar dressed more scantily clad than she had ever been in her life! Sitting at a bar dressed in a low cut dress that showed a lot of thigh. When she had walked out of the bedroom Sam and Dean’s mouths dropped. Dean stared at her with wide eyes before choking on the brownie that he had been eating.

Elena was keeping her eye open for a guy that needed to be interrogated while sipping on a glass of white champagne.

“This stuff tastes like crap.”

She thought looking around the bar. Sam, Dean, and Cas were sitting across the room in a dark corner.  Looking down at the phone Dean had given her, Elena typed a quick message to the eldest Winchester.

“I look like a tramp.”

She waited a few moments before Dean responded,

“You look awesome! Gabriel was a moron for letting you go.”

Elena smirked but froze the moment a voice she hadn’t heard in a many years came from no where.

“Apparently I am an idiot.”

Looking up, Elena froze. Gabriel stood feet away from her looking the same as the last time that they had been together.

“Gabriel.”

Elena choked his name out. The archangel smiled.

“Sugar what you doing in a dump like this…dressed like that? Are you human?”

Elena quickly turned to where her friends were sitting. Their expressions were clearly as shocked as hers! Frowning, Elena faced Gabriel completely.

“What are you doing alive?! You are supposed to be dead!”

Gabriel shrugged innocently.

“Trickster, darling. Again why are you human?!”

Elena was annoyed now.

“What does it matter to you anyhow?”

Gabriel frowned.

“Well jeez I don’t know. Considering that we used to be together and that I love you….shouldn’t I be worried that you are dressed like a tramp in a crap bar like this?”

“You’re in a crap bar like this too Gabriel or is that how low that you have been slumming lately?”

Gabriel stood silently a few moments before smiling coldly.

“Ah still salty over me leaving huh?”

Elena rolled her eyes.

“Just leave.”

Gabriel, however, didn’t move. He remained in his seat until he noticed Dean walking over. Right away he looked annoyed.

“You have got to be kidding me! They have you working for them? I don’t think so! You are human and working for the two people that could get you killed quicker than anyone else in the world?”

Dean shrugged this time,

“Well at least we don’t ditch people that we love because we can’t keep our cocks in our pants.”

Gabriel’s lips twitched. This was the last thing that he wanted to hear.

“I did it to keep us safe.”

Elena snorted. Here was Gabriel trying to justify his actions with bull shit. This time however, he wasn’t about to bullshit his way out of this one.

“Whatever Gabriel. You wanted to be with Kali just admit it. I know the truth.”

Gabriel was livid. Dean stepped forward again.

“We need to continue this conversation somewhere else. Too many people are thatching and our guy just left…so this night was a waste. All that we accomplished was gaining back an archangel.”

Elena gave Dean her best pout face.

“Ah, we have to take him with us?”

Gabriel appeared to be genuinely hurt! He knew Elena would be salty if they ever met back up again but he never expected her to seemingly straight up hate him!

“We aren’t done!”

Gabriel snapped. Elena stood puling on her coat.

“I am done! I’ve been done. You leave your mate for some trampy pagan goddess. YOU GET WHAT YOU GET!”

Elena turned storming out of the bar without another word. Dean watched her walk out before raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.

“Between you and me, you feathered idiot, its going to take a lot more than your charming personality to dig your ass out of this hole.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at Dean.

“Jeez ya think?”

Dean turned walking to the door before stopping and looking at Gabriel. The archangel looked honestly upset. Whether it be the fact that Gabriel saved his ass and Dean felt the need to repay him or something else Dean felt bad for the guy. With a groan he turned back to the archangel.

“Come on man. We’ll figure it out. Just don’t expect me to be your therapist!”

—————- @sherala007 @sumara62 @authoressskr @jannalionheart @everyjourneylove @gree

[livingmybestfictionallife]

You Trust Me, Right?

Prompt: You’re a friend of Jacob’s--you’re basically his PA, like Harrison is with Tom. You’ve been able to hang out with them a lot and after a while, Tom started to develop feelings for you. Debating continuing this. Let me know what you think

Warnings: fluff, some language, 

A/N: Requests are open! I will basically write anything (good luck finding something I won’t) and I can write for any of Seb’s characters (except Jack and Carter--I haven’t seen those yet) I can write Tom fanfic, Harrison fanfic, any marvel character. 

FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE/ASK/ANON

Part Two      Part Three     Part Four

When one of your closest friends asks you if you want to be his bagel bitch for six months in Atlanta on the set of Spider-Man: Homecoming and be paid for it, you say yes. (Y/N) had been by Jacob’s side since his nerve wracking process of auditioning for Ned Leeds began: she helped him go over his lines, set up meetings with the casting directors, and basically took over the role of his manager, so when he was given the part, the most obvious way to thank his Marvel obsessed best friend was to bring her along as his ‘bagel bitch,’ also occasionally, but lesser known as ‘coffee cutie.’

Since Jacob had so many scenes to run with Tom, the pair became fairly close as well as their PAs. Wherever Tom went, Harrison went, and wherever Jacob went, (Y/N) went too. It was never awkward for (Y/N) though. She had always found her guy friends to be more genuine, interesting, and just more fun to be around than her female friends, and Harrison and Tom were just just as accepting of her as she was of them.

After the filming for Spider-Man wrapped up, (Y/N) decided to take a quick visit to her parents’ house and see her family before the chaos of press tours began. She had been ‘off-duty’ for a couple of months before Jacob called her back into action.

“Ready for Singapore?” he asked the instant she opened the taxi cab door.

“Not ready for the flight,” she muttered in reply and crouching into the car.

“At least Tom and Harrison are flying out with us,” Jacob added. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion.

“You didn’t tell me they were coming,” she stated.

“Does it matter?” he teased. The pair had known one another for a long time prior to the Spider-Man experience and Jacob had survived the months of filming without letting slip the weird fascination/fetish his friend had for English accents.

“I supposed not,” she said in return, keeping her head held high. “Gosh I hope you don’t run your big mouth.”

“I’ve made it this far without telling anyone your secret,” he replied.

“Jacob, you are the worst at keeping secrets from people you know.” It was true. He was the type of person to call up a friend to brag about how they’d never guess what he got them for their birthday and then immediately tell them what he bought.

“I’m not the worst at keeping secrets,” he protested. “I still haven’t told you that Tom had a crush on you.” He immediately covered his mouth and his eyes widened behind his glasses frames. “Damn it! Shit, I didn’t say that.”

“If my point hasn’t been proven, continue keeping secrets from me,” she sneered. “But what do you mean Tom had a crush on me?” Jacob could see that they were approaching LAX and figured that since the secret was out he’d catch her up on the details before they were around Tom and Harrison.

"Well, during the few weeks, I think both of them had a crush on you or thought you were cute or whatever--I told them they were crazy because you will forever be brace-face Urkel to me. Tom came up to me the second week asking for your number; he told me not to tell you he was asking for it and then started talking about how pretty you were and how nice you were and I was like: ‘we’re talking about her right,’ pointing at you, ‘the bagel bitch?’ It was funny because he didn’t know how chill we were with that name and kind of got defensive about it.”

“So Haz and Tom both have a crush on me?” she asked, certain he was holding back information.

“No, Harrison had a crush on you. Gosh, (Y/N), not everything is about you, you know,” Jacob laughed as they pulled up in front of LAX.

“So Harrison had a crush on me and Tom has a crush on me?” she asked pretending to be confused to get Jacob to spill.

“That’s what he told me a month ago. I still have the messages if you don’t believe--” Jacob continued before gasping, holding a hand over his mouth and using the other to point at her face accusingly. “You sneaky little witch!” he cried out as she shuffled out of the car and made her way toward the trunk to grab her luggage.

“I’m not going to say anything, Jacob. Odds are Tom isn’t going to act on anything so why would I bring it up and make this awesome trip to Singapore awkward?”

“Just go out of your way to be one of the guys, okay?” Jacob whispered as they rolled their bags into the airport to meet up with Harrison and Tom.

“Wouldn’t that raise suspicion?” she asked under her breath, intentionally screwing with Jacob’s logic just as she was trying to manipulate information out of him.

“Well then don’t do anything too girly,” he continued.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“I don’t know!” he muttered as the blonde and brunette Englishmen came into sight.

“How about I just act natural?” she suggested.

“That sounds like a good plan!” he called in return as they met up with the other pair voyaging across the world with them. Harrison had on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt whereas Tom wore black sweats and a black t-shirt. Jacob had on athletic shorts and a t-shirt and (Y/N) wore leggings and a big t-shirt. She didn’t bother too much with doing anything with her face or hair since they were going to be on a plane for the majority of the day so her hair was tossed into a ponytail and barely applied concealer. She honestly thought she looked like the grim reaper.

“Jacob! (Y/N)!” Tom and Harrison greeted in unison. 

“Hey,” (Y/N) responded while putting her arms around Harrison in a warm hug before moving on to Tom. “I’ve missed you!”

“Are you ready for this?” Tom asked in an excited voice as they made their way toward their gate.

“Shit’s about to go down in Singapore!” Jacob stated, filling the position of hype-man. The four of them made their way onto the plane, placed their carry-on bags in the compartment above them, and started to settle into their seats.

“Oh, Jacob,” Harrison called out just before the seatbelt sign flicked on. “I forgot I had a video to show you! (Y/N) do you mind switching me seats?” (Y/N) was hesitant to move. She had already strapped herself into her seat as tightly as physically possible and was begging her body not to betray her as she faced her fear of flying for the millionth time--each ride more terrifying than the last.

“Um, sure,” she said and hurried past Harrison. Of course, she thought to herself. He would be sticking me in the window seat. She awkwardly inched past Tom, who was already seated and strapped in, and settled into the seat Harrison traded her. She pulled the seatbelt tight across her hips and dreaded the second the plane began to move. “Shitshitshit,” she muttered to herself.

“Is everything okay?” Tom asked as he pulled his headphones off his head and looked at her.

“Everything’s fine,” she lied.

“You hate flying don’t you?” he questioned her as she closed the window Harrison left open and dug her nails into her skin.

“Maybe,” she chuckled at her own irrational fears.

“There’s a reason humans were created without wings! If we were meant to fly, we would have them,” she grumbled as the pilot lined up with the runway.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who was afraid of flying,” Tom said with a smile playing on his lips.

“What makes you say that?” she asked in response as his voice and eyes distracted her from her pounding heart and quickened breaths.

“You look fearless and have an intimidating personality,” he explained while turning his body in the chair to face her.

“I’m intimidating?” she scoffed. 

“Hell yeah you’re intimidating,” Tom huffed. “Look at you!”

“Is it my resting bitch face?” she asked quickly. “I’ve been told I have that.”

“Well,” he paused for a moment. “Look straight for a moment,” she complied and he surrendered to her observation, “yeah, you do.”

“Damn,” she huffed playfully, trying to avoid Tom bringing up his supposed feelings for her. Just then the engines of the plane started to roar and she tugged violently against the seatbelt one more time, preparing for take off.

“(Y/N), you trust me, right?” Tom asked as her jaw clenched. All she could do was nod and he smiled at her, feeling as though her sharing this vulnerability with him was proof of her trust in him. He grasped her hand and she held his just as tightly as the plane began to propel itself down the runway. “You’re going to be okay,” Tom said softly as he opened her window. She looked at him in pure horror, wondering how a person could ever do such a thing, and then quickly shut her eyes. 

Once they were in the air and the plane leveled off, the grip she had on Tom’s hand lessened and their ears popped from changing altitudes. (Y/N) was humming ever so quietly that he had to stare at he throat to see whether or not it was her before speaking.

“Are you humming Metallica?”

“It calms me!”