#and i was supposed to be doing my homework after the interview

[menshusband]

What does a man have to do not to live in constant dread

[rieamena]

totally (not) beating the allegations

best friend!takuma ino headcanons

contains... best friends to lovers, mutual pining, casual confession of love, kisses (platonic), kisses (romantic), modern au, high school to university au, living together-ish, fem intended reader, pet names (baby, babe, love, sexy, handsome, beautiful, sweetie, the list goes on and on), lots of physical touch, nicknames (you call takuma, kuma.), reader has a mother and a father, y'all are basically dating just without the label...

word count: 2.3k (this wasn't supposed to be long. i told myself 0.8k maximum...)

riea's comments: all sixteen people living in takuma city RISE UP! i miss my husband of 35 years so much, come back to me loml :(( something to munch on while y'all wait for the next full throttle chapter. also not too much on me if this is a drabble and not hcs idk the difference :))

first off... i just wanna say that i KNOW I KNOW that ino is one of the funniest people in the jjk cast idc idc!!! if he had more screentime (and if the situation wasnt dire) my boy would be crackin some jokes!!!!

you've been friends with takuma for around 7 years, your first meeting happening in tenth grade, when your teacher paired you two up for an interview project. when time came to actually record the interviews, it was hard to edit out you two laughing uncontrollably every fifteen seconds or so

i mean, you two just had so much in common!!! same favorite color, same favorite franchise, same favorite tv show, same favorite video game; it was like yall were the same person. there was just one thing you both disagreed on: whether hex code #286061 was blue or green

your argument ended up being the last ten minutes of the final video you submitted...

without a doubt, after that, you two became inseparable. in school, people would take notice of your closeness. when one of you were absent, teachers would jokingly ask "where's the other one?"

there was not a single thing you didn't do together, homework, go to the gym, gossip, eavesdrop, etc etc. so of course, you ended up applying to the same universities and when it came time for college acceptance season...

takuma invited you over, forcing you to bring your mailed letters from the eight universities. sprawling out over his lap, you took in the all too familiar sight of his room. you've been in his room more times than you've been in your own (and vice versa!)

i mean ino's been over to your place so many times that he calls your parents mom and dad. and you've been over to his house so much that takuma's mom practically jumped for joy every time you burst through the front doors with a "guess who's home!!!" so it was completely normal that you guys knew the ins and outs of each other's rooms, right?

"kuma, baby," you started with a sigh, reveling in your best friend's repetitive motions. running his hand through your hair, ino looked down at you, eyes showing that he was listening. "i'm scared, what if we don't–"

"ah-ah-ah! no negativity here!" he cut you off, pushing you off his lap and grabbing the letters you left on his desk. "listen here beautiful," takuma says, bringing a hand to your cheek, his heart swelling when you subconsciously leaned into it, "we're gonna take each other's letters, and open them," he handed you a white envelope, the logo of both of yours dream university on it, "starting with, kyōmei."

taking a well needed deep breath, you nodded. "okay," you and ino began to open the envelopes at the same time, only looking at each other when you saw the status. "accepted or rejected in 3...2...1..."

"ACCEPTED"

"ACCEPTED"

cue the mandatory silence before the screaming. "holy shit. you got in." "you got in." "WE GOT IN!!! WE'RE GOING TO KYŌMEI!!!!" you two practically flew off the bed, jumping up and down in celebration. peppering his face in kisses, you nuzzled your face into takuma's neck. "i'm so proud of us! i mean, kyōmei," you pulled away from his neck, shaking his shoulders harshly, "the kyōmei?!!!"

anyways, soon enough, you both realized that you'd have to move away, resulting in a seven hour search for apartments near the university's campus. and just as takuma was about to give up, you found a listing for units 19A and 19B, right in the heart of the city and just a five minute walk from kyōmei

and with that, it was moving day, well, days is more like it considering that the whole process took like ten days... finding cute furniture is really hard! and moving all of it is even harder!! and don't even get me started on the appliances! although, you and takuma found a way around it

like what do both of you need a microwave for? and there isn't a reason to have two dishwashers, there wasn't even a reason to have one! y'all kept your fridges though... who was gonna be banging on the other's door in the middle of the night for some cold water??

with time, it came for the highly anticipated freshman formal, an welcome event hosted by kyōmei itself, and of course, you had to go. so here you were, staring at your figure in the mirror as your best friend's large hand rubbed your shoulder, the other zipping up your black dress. "all done!" he breathed, taking a step away so that you could see for yourself. "i look so cute~" you giggled, hearing the clack of your heels as you twirled. "you do!" he paused, looking you up and down, "when did you get that dress?"

"your mom gave it to me a couple days ago! where'd you get that tux? i don't think i've seen it before," you walked over and straightened takuma's suit, as he laughed in response, "your mom gave it to me..."

"this was planned."

"this was definitely planned."

"we should send a picture in the family group chat!"

"we should!!! but, hair first!"

notice how i said family group chat, singular, not plural. and that's because there's a gc for both of your families! it's name was a mix between "ino" and your last name, since, in all seriousness, your families were close

so here you were, sitting pretty on takuma's lap as you focused on straightening the front pieces of his hair, because that's what best friends do!

"okayyyy sexyyyy," you squealed, moving out of the way so that takuma could see himself in your vanity mirror, "damnn, i look hot!" he smiled as he checked himself out, his hand firmly on your waist (to make sure that you wouldn't fall, of course!). "i knew i was fine but, did i always look this fine?" he asked, looking up at you with his big dark brown eyes, a playful smirk evident on his face. "yes, takuma. you're the sexiest man ever. just a bit of eyeliner on you and we'll be on our way, okay?"

turning back to your station, you grabbed some brown and black pencils before starting to lightly draw over ino's outer eye corner, "do men as sexy as me really need eyeliner?" a look from you was all he needed to know to shut up and close his eyes

and oh, how he loved being so close to you. not just emotionally but physically as well. like, not every duo can say that they barge into the other's apartment to steal snacks! and speaking of snacks... let me just say, there's a whole cabinet in his kitchen reserved for your favorite foods and! he keeps your favorite ice cream flavor stocked in his freezer

you, on the other hand, have a little space where you hide takuma's favorite anything. chips, gummies, takeout menus, you name it, you have it. because your best friend is oh-so-optimistic, it can be harder for him when he's just not having the best of days. which is why when you go your (not so) separate ways at the end of the day, you pack up a basket for him. ribbons in his favorite color, his top 15 favorite snacks from that one time y'all bought one of everything in a nearby convenience store and ranked them, takeout on the way, horror flicks he's been wanting on dvd because he said "its cooler that way", and a handwritten letter from you, for my kuma, scribbled on the envelope

dropping off the basket at his door and retreating back to your place, you'd press your ear against the wall separating your units, physically feeling your heart break when you heard sniffles. that was all you needed to practically fly over to his, a few boxes of tissues in hand. because that's what best friends do!

and don't even get me started on how many belongings y'all have at the other's place... like that one time takuma walked into your apartment announcing his presence, only to be met with silence. let me set up the scene for you. you are taking a relaxing shower when you hear a knock on the door followed by four more and then three more. "come in!" you called out, unbeknownst to you, ino's voice was closer than you thought

"already in here..., anyways. is my shampoo in there?"

"the one with the purple cap?"

"yeah, thanks babe!"

"wait, can you get me my towel?"

or that time when you causally opened the door to his unit (because it was basically yours too) and greeted him with a simple pat on his head before skipping off to find those jeans you thrifted

slight cohabitation aside, the university life was definitely... something. it was clear and obvious that you two were close, a blind man could see it. but close is a really really really vague word, and it's surely not the word that describes the way the two of you act. in this friendship, terms of endearment drop like rain from clouds. every. other. sentence. contains a "babe" or "baby" or "sweetheart" or "darling" WE GET IT OKAY...

and it seems like if y'all go a single day without touching each other, a bomb will fall from the sky and earth would blow up. his hands are constantly on you, his favorite places (when in public) being your shoulders and arms, and when at home it was without a doubt your waist and thighs. just imagine how difficult it must be for people speak to you both on campus when his arm is slung around you and your hand is holding onto his side. the rumors practically created themselves....

and when i say people were shocked, i mean they were SHOCKED when y'all were like "haha, no, we're not dating!!! we're best friends!" everyone was thinking: yeah best friends who FUCK. best friends who are IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. y'all became the campus' it couple without being a couple. how does that happen??!??

however... there were a couple of people who were particularly excited to hear that you both were single. a few girls approached you one day while in the general area, asking if it was true that you and ino weren't dating. "we aren't... why?" one of the girls shifted on her feet, clearly nervous. "well... could you um... give this to him for me?!" she bowed, presenting a pretty pink envelope. you froze, staring at the item before giggling. "i see what this is about! don't worry! i'll make sure this gets to him safely!" long story short, that letter was never delivered

and on ino's side, he had some classmates pestering him about you. asking for your favorite show, candy, date style, everything under the sun. "guys, guys! she doesn't even want a boyfriend right now!" takuma shouted, even though two days prior you were complaining about how spending too much time with him was scaring all the hotties away

but let's get into the real stuff... the realization of love

for takuma, there wasn't a "wow, i'm in love with her" moment. what he does know though is that he started feeling something different for you a few months before college admission season. to him, the world was always bright with you by his side but now... it was so much brighter. it was like looking directly into the sun; it hurt but he couldn't look away, he doesn't want to look away. you're the best thing to ever happen to him, and the mere thought of ruining what you have just for some feeling—no matter how intense—isn't... right to him

and you figured it out after a dream you had one night back in high school. you dreamt of being in takuma's arms, the ones you snuck glances at when he wasn't paying attention to you. in not dream world, all you had to do was ask and he'd gladly envelop you but the vibes in this dream were different. there was tension. and it was thick. his beanie was off and thrown somewhere on the bed, your bed. looking back at him, your breath caught in your throat, "hey pretty," he slurred, drunk off tiredness. ino's called you beautiful more times than you can count; he made sure to do it at least once a week, so why... just why did this time make your stomach heat up and your heart race? you woke up with a flushed face, queasy feeling in your gut, and a deep understanding. it wasn't just platonic love anymore

"hey," you started, eyes trained on the movie in front of you, but your mind was focused on something else, "y'know how everyone thinks we're dating?" ino nodded as you reached over to grab the bowl of popcorn. "i've been thinking... maybe they're onto something..."

takuma's gulp could be heard from miles away, "wh-what are you trying to say?"

"what are we? seriously. because i can't sit here and pretend like i don't wish we were something more."

"something more like...?"

"now's not the time to be oblivious! don't you get it?! i'm—"

"i'm in love with you,"

it was like time stood still as you looked at your best friend. his face was lit by the tv screen a couple feet away, his hair was a mess, and slightly prominent dark circles were under his eyes, but... he's never looked more beautiful to you. "have been. for a long time. we've basically been dating for like four years already. four more and then we'll get married?" he flashed his signature smile

"oh, shut up," he brought your face millimeters away from his, whispering "make me." before kissing you deeply, not on your cheek, or your forehead, or your shoulders, but on your lips this time. and all the times after that too

because that's what best friends lovers do, right?

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @discipleofthem

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@stillnotherapy @oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath

@atigerandabear @russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @ourfinalisation

@1ndee @yourhornysister @ancientimes

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Theoretically Yours.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After a series of murders at your university, the FBI has decided to give you a bodyguard. The problem is that he is extremely cute and can hardly protect himself, especially from you and your charms.

Words: 1,9k.

TW: mentions of murder, crime, blood and also a plot twist???. spicy insinuations. spencer from the first seasons. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm really excited about this, I love Spencer Reid in all seasons, but in the early ones he had something different that drove me crazy. Also, this is the first time I write here and I'm nervous.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It was supposed to be a normal day, but agents showed up at your door to stop you from going to class and left you under the watchful eye of the youngest of them, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a precaution to protect you from the killer who has been stalking the campus, killing girls with similar profiles to yours.

You weren't afraid and insisted that it wasn't necessary until you saw him. The mere thought of spending time alone with the man made you more excited than you would have liked. He was very tall, skinny and could barely look you in the eye for more than five seconds without looking away absolutely blushing.

You had decided not to talk to him or act suspicious, but for some reason you liked the idea of him helping you with your biology homework. You were studying pre-med at the behest of your parents and were having trouble understanding some of the material. Spencer saved your life when he offered to help you and told you about his multiple doctorates.

“You are amazing, like a genius.” You said in surprise when he read the big book you had on the table in just five minutes and left a bunch of notes in it.

He blushed again, trying to adjust his glasses to hide it so it wouldn't show. Reid was doing his best to be professional and not let his guard down, he had to be vigilant in case you were in danger.

“It's nothing. I hope it helps you.” He said, giving you a little smile.

You nod and look at the television behind him. They were airing a new report on the latest murders, showing photos of the victims and interviews with family members. Everyone cried and repeated how unfair it was to lose their prodigy daughters to a madman. You thought about how they made such a simple TV show about spilled blood without thinking about it, just trying to paint the girls who had tormented you for several years as white doves.

“Don't worry, you're safe here. I can promise that.” Spencer spoke as he followed your gaze. He was trying to comfort you and take away any fear with his presence.

“I know.” You smile at him with innocence. You were more than capable of protecting yourself and you knew it.

There was an awkward moment of silence, so you offered him coffee to break it. You went to the kitchen and poured two cups, watching from afar as he talked on the phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but notice the nervousness in his voice as he repeated to his colleagues that all was well with you.

“She's pretty, isn't she?” Penelope's voice rang through the phone in Reid's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “I saw some pictures in internet.”

“I...maybe...yes.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear him. "How does that matter or help the case?"

As you used the coffeepot, Spencer looked you over from head to toe. He couldn't deny how attractive you were and how much his heart raced when you were around. His extreme lack of flirting skills and his clear differences with you saved him from the temptation you were.

“Just have fun, lover boy. You need it.” The woman smiled proudly and hung up the call before he could answer.

The two poured cups were already on the table, you sat down on the sofa by the window to start reading the notes he had left in your medical book. His impeccable handwriting made you shudder, it was unbelievable that someone with so much knowledge would waste time trying to take care of you from yourself and not even realize it.

“You're okay?” He asked with a soft voice, sitting in front of you.

“Yes, just reading your notes.”

“Sorry, I put too many. But I can mark the important ones for you.” He gently took the book from your hands and began to place himself between the paragraphs with one of his fingers.

Your eyes fell on his hands, the way he moved them over the pages of the book bringing inappropriate thoughts to your mind. You hadn't noticed before how perfect every part of him seemed, especially now that he was spouting complex biological terms without even flinching. You were aware of your own intelligence and proud of it, but you would have liked to be like him...or at least have him around.

“Is something wrong?” He asked confused as he noticed how you had been watching him.

“Sorry. I was thinking of biology...nothing better to look at to understand the theory.” You said to justify your indiscretion.

“Oh sure, it helps. According to several studies, the human being has three main systems for perceiving information: visual, auditory and kinesthetic.” He began to explain quickly. “This theory was put forward in 1988.”

“Maybe that can help me.” You suggested, trying to look away from him.

He nods and start to talking again.

“You were watching, that was visual. And you heard me talking before, that was auditory.”

“And what is kinesthetic?” You asked, even though you knew what the answer was.

Spencer swallowed before speaking, trying to hide his nervousness at the sudden change in tone of the conversation. He was glad to know that he had been able to turn the situation around and put the recent crimes out of his mind, he had been worried that they would affect you.

“Is what is learned through sensation and movement.” He finally said with his voice trembling slightly.

“Can I...?” You try to ask, but he nods before you can finish the sentence.

You stop looking into his eyes and take his hand, put it on your legs and start tracing lines with your finger over his scarred veins. You could feel him shudder every time you touched him, and his mutterings about the technical names of each became inaudible.

“This is the radial artery, provides oxygenated blood to the hands and fingers.” You start to talking, looking him to the eyes again and letting your hand enjoy the softness of his.

“Yes...yeah, it is.” His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was losing control of the situation. No one had ever touched him in such a way before.

The smell of coffee mixed with his cologne is almost addictive and begins to drive you crazy. Just touching his hands was not enough, something inside you wanted more and the ideas running through your head began to torment you. You knew it wasn't right and that your own sanity was in jeopardy, he was one of the good guys and you not so much. It just wasn't right for you to mix, let alone under the current circumstances.

“I should check the perimeter.” Spencer rose from his seat and slowly moved his hand away from yours. He need to go away before something incorrect happened.

All the words were caught in your throat at that moment. You didn't want him to walk away yet.

“It's not necessary.” You got up after him, preventing him from walking to the door and being able to leave. “Everyone is in their classes now, the residence is empty and your coffee is going to get cold.”

Spencer knew you were right. He couldn't go against logic, so he sat back down on one of the couches and took a sip of the coffee you had poured for him. He did his best to avoid your gaze, but it was impossible when you were looking out the window and absentmindedly sipping your coffee.

“Do you think they'll find the killer?” You asked, trying to make conversation after watching through the glass as police cruisers drove around campus.

“Of course, no one else will have to get hurt and everything will be back to normal for you.” He replied without taking his eyes off you.

“I don't think you get to decide that.” You blurt out without thinking.

The phrase and your tone were enough to make him stand up and walk towards you. He put a hand on your shoulder out of inertia, to give you support and reassure you a little.

“You don't need to be afraid.” He gave you a small reassuring smile and you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a tentative step toward him, shortening the distance between your bodies. You raised your gaze to meet his, feeling at his mercy because of the difference in height. You weren't thinking too hard and didn't hesitate to put your hand on his cheek, caressing it.

“What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to get carried away by your touch.

“To thank you for being here and helping me.” You had a burst of courage and stood on tiptoe to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.

Then you moved your face far enough away to look at him and see his blush. He looked so affected by a simple kiss on the cheek that you couldn't help but move closer again, this time with his fingers on your chin.

“You can't. We can't.” He stopped the approach just a couple of inches from their lips colliding.

“Why? Because I'm part of your job?” You questioned in frustration, unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth.

“I'm here to keep you safe.” He tried to sound calm and professional, though his voice trembled.

“I'm very safe now.” You assured him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist. “No one can hurt me here.”

Without Spencer being able to notice, a small moan escaped him at your action.

“There's a killer on the loose.” He insisted, trying to be the voice of reason even though he couldn't look away from your lips.

“Trust me, a kiss won't bring him here. I'm sure of it.” You replied as you noticed him slowly pulling away from you.

A curse tried to come out of your mouth at the rejection and lack of his touch at your waist, but before you could finish it, his lips were on yours and his hands were pressing you against him.

His lips were as soft as his hands, but the way they moved over yours was not soft at all. At first, even his tongue seemed to ask your permission to continue. It took several seconds of clear acceptance before the uncertainty of his kiss disappeared and was replaced by need.

You took advantage of the fact that you were in front of the big couch to push him off and you both fell on top of him, having only a few seconds to catch your breath before continuing. He gave you a quick, tender kiss before pulling his hands away from your back to remove his glasses, which were already fogged up and out of place. But your hand stopped him just before he could put them down on the table.

“Do not take off your glasses. I really like them.” You whispered still over his mouth.

“As you wish.” He said before kissing you again and letting himself enjoy himself under you, without thinking about anything else.

At that moment you knew that maybe committing a few more murders to keep him around wasn't such a bad idea.

[rosereign]

I haven’t felt manic in a long time but I have been feeling the sads. Sads is still here.

[barzzal]

call me crosby → part six

summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.

pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist

note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  

Two words. Terrible twos.

It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it. 

Well, not until a few years later. 

“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room. 

He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted. 

This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney. 

“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.

You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for. 

You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him. 

“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!” 

It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.

“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach. 

With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away. 

“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time. 

Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman. 

“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice. 

You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago. 

Yes, this has been going on for that long. 

“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.” 

There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable. 

Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for. 

“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear. 

Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see. 

As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him. 

Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.

Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.

“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”

You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you. 

You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying. 

Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” 

Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop  his forehead. 

“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?” 

With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…” 

He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”

You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”

You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle. 

“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.

When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.” 

“Sidney…” 

“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be. 

Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”

Of course. 

Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.” 

“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?” 

“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”

Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”

You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake. 

“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—” 

Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?” 

You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.” 

You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”

He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”

You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?” 

Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.” 

“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”

Luke tilts his head, “Longer?” 

“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?” 

Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.

“Are you gonna wait for him too?” 

It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.

“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”

𖥸

Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney. 

In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo. 

You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you? 

You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy. 

Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest. 

You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father. 

Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.  

You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons. 

You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks. 

Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one. 

The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.

Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name. 

“Taylor.” 

She wastes no second, “Is it true?” 

You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer. 

“Come in.” you say. 

Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.

“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities. 

Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.

“Water would be nice.” she replies. 

You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work. 

Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen. 

Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over. 

When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it. 

You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy. 

If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand. 

The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization. 

You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer. 

The first thing she asks is, “What happened?” 

You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time. 

“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.” 

With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”

Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him. 

You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side. 

“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.” 

“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.” 

“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”

It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke. 

Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you? 

You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it. 

Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him. 

With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”

Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”

“Do you want to meet him?” 

“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.” 

You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too. 

“I’ll talk to him.”

𖥸

July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.

“I’m done.” 

As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under? 

Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed. 

Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone. 

“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.” 

Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you. 

“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name. 

He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.

“Y/N-” 

“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.” 

It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.

Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you. 

He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left. 

The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was. 

Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season. 

He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living. 

With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college. 

Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed. 

Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter. 

He sees a message that almost had him on his knees. 

Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”

𖥸

As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t. 

Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years. 

Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell. 

You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words. 

Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket. 

You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.” 

As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home. 

Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.

Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.

Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight. 

Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with. 

You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.

The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell. 

You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five. 

A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.

Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”. 

A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.

As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.

“Hey.”

Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand. 

“No, it’s all right.” you say. 

“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”

Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”

It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched. 

“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands. 

“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.” 

It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind. 

“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.

At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.

“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered. 

You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Really.”

Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him. 

Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel. 

“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.” 

His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?” 

“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.

“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”

It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing. 

Sidney is at a loss for words.

“Do you really mean that?” 

He sees you nod. 

You give him a reassuring smile. 

“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”

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[david-talks-sw]

I got a good feeling about "The Acolyte"

Not even kidding. Like, I've spoken before about why I'm wary of it.

George Lucas' Star Wars is something that intentionally has black and white morality, rather than shades of gray. Those movies are meant for kids and projecting a "gray" morality onto them then proclaiming it was George's vision all along is doing so in bad faith.

The narrative of the Prequels doesn't frame the Prequel Jedi in as negative a light as Leslye Headland, Dave Filoni, etc etc do.

See here for more details, but bottom line: yeah, a show that has a darksider as the underdog is bound to demonize the Jedi (who are the actual underdogs in the Prequels), and obviously that rubs me the wrong way.

BUT.

The trailer looks fucking cool. It really really does.

And more importantly? I've done some research... and Leslye Headland is ticking a lot of good boxes, in my book.

1. The Acolyte won't be a 10-hour movie.

I've criticized Disney Plus shows before, explaining that a big source for most of their issues is that these series are being structured as "long movies" rather than, y'know, actual shows.

But in this interview with Collider, Headland addresses that: it'll be a series. Not a long movie that you need to watch across four weeks.

Thank God. You have no idea how much that comforts me. Finally a showrunner who's, y'know, actually running a show.

And this goes hand in hand with what she told IGN, here, about how she's going about building suspense.

Yes! Exactly! That's how it's supposed to be!

Like, compare this to Baylan Skoll's storyline in Ahsoka.

In no possible way was that emotionally-fulfilling. For 8 episodes we had no idea what he was after, and the season ended where we still don't know. What does he want? What is he after? Your guess is as good as mine, it's something Mortis-related.

So yeah. Maybe getting the Emmy-nominated trained screenwriter on board to run this was a good idea.

2. Maybe the Jedi will not be as demonized as I originally thought.

Don't get me wrong. 80% of what she says about the Jedi makes me cringe. It's the typical fan's interpretation and y'all know I disagree with that interpretation.

It's painful to see her refer to the Jedi as an institution (not how the Prequels' narrative frames them) and to see her frame "Balance" in the "oh there's so many of them and just two Sith, that means the Force is out of balance" meaning... but at least she acknowledges the Jedi are a benevolent institution.

They're not an "elitist force hiding in their ivory tower" as others have described the Jedi.

Moreover, there'll be a variety of Jedi POVs, many personalities.

Yord Fandar, is described as a strictly by-the-book Jedi Knight and guardian from the Jedi Temple, is an overachiever and a rule follower.

The question now becomes: will the narrative frame him as "your typical Jedi" or is it just this one guy? I'm hoping it's the latter.

I also like how her reasoning goes re: Jedi drawing their lightsabers.

Which explains the hand-to-hand combat seen in the trailer.

This teenager is coming at Carrie-Ann Moss with a dagger, of course the Jedi won't draw her saber.

3. She's a fan of Star Wars... but a screenwriter first.

You can tell in the interviews she's a fan. She's using words like "BBY" and "EU" casually. In the above-linked interviews she's bringing up the Nightsisters, Timothy Zahn, The Clone Wars, she mentions she has a tattoo of Ralph McQuarrie's concept art of Leia, the High Republic books, etc.

She's done her homework. She's a fan.

But the vibe I'm getting from these interviews is that she's weaving in these various lore-elements in a more organic way, rather than in the "fan-servicey" way Dave Filoni has been doing in his shows.

The references and Easter Eggs will be there, but the narrative won't bend over itself just so you can get it. Crafting a good story comes first, and Andor is a beautiful illustration of why this is true.

Which is why I was never bothered about one of the writers never having watched Star Wars before getting the job. You need those fresh eyes when you're tackling something of this scale.

That makes sense to me. Maybe it's because of my own screenwriting experience, but yeah. That out-of-the box perspective is precious.

And like, obviously, that writer watched the films eventually, but for some reason everyone who bitched about Headland omitted that detail and opted for a more bad faith interpretation.

Hm. Wonder why.

Maybe it's the same reason that months ago this clipped audio circulated socials without context, in which she debates whether Star Wars only came from George Lucas and only Lucas is the key.

The FULL context of that interview reveals that she's actually:

debating the "autheur director" myth and positing that it was achieved by a collective of excellent filmmakers and craftspeople that George was skilled and smart enough to recruit...

the studios now think it's a simple as hiring one guy and throwing money at him, because they have no idea what the fuck they're talking about. See Napoleon (2023) for example.

Yes, she also does a jab to the Prequels, which speaks to the generation of fans she's a part of... but overall she's giving Lucas props whilst also stating an ideological difference, that's it!

George is a proponent of the "autheur" theory, Leslye isn't.

However, guess what, in like half the talks George gave post-selling Star Wars? He's giving shoutouts to everyone who helped make the first film, even remembering their names.

So I'm not even sure he'd vehemently disagree with Leslye, in fact they'd prolly have a conversation about it and immediately bitch about how stupid studio executives are :D

But that's not as incendiary, is it? Again, the more I do the research, the more it feels like the reason most of these influencers are hating on her is purely sexist.

I mean, on IGN she's even acknowledging that she does plan on taking stock of fan reactions for Season 2.

It's not a guarantee that she'll incorporate the feedback, but at least that's more consideration than, say, JJ Abrams or Rian Johnson gave the fandom.

She's even bringing the moral ambiguity that the Gray Jedi-loving edge-lords love so much.

"No, she's a woke feminist! Anything she does is evil! Eww, girls!"

🙄

Needless to say... I'm gonna give it a shot.

I think it's gonna be a good show, I think it's gonna be a solid story.

I'm crossing my fingers that they won't as biased against the Jedi as it seems they'll be. Even if they are... if it's still an enjoyable experience, I'll gloss over it.

As @gffa states in this post:

Worst case? It's not a story from George. I can dismiss it from my headcanon without a moment's hesitation :D

[narwhalsarefalling]

rey i need ya gen fic bnha recs

congratulations, i have a whole ass collection. but here's some faves. A collection of both oneshot and multichap!

Gauntlet Thrown - pikahlua

Pro hero Katsuki Bakugou has deigned to apply for a teaching position at UA, and the lucky bastard who gets to conduct the job interview is none other than Shouta Aizawa.

Second Chances - amarisllis

Aizawa’s heartbeat is pounding against Katsuki’s ear, so loud and fast that it blocks out everything else. Katsuki’s arms flail, unsure what to do now that he’s being hugged by his teacher who’s never really cracked more than a tiny smile in their presence before. Wha— Oh. Oh, oh shit. Aizawa is crying. “Sensei—” “You were dead.” His voice breaks on the last word. Oh. Shit.

candid - OwlF45

The Commission passes a new requirement for hero licenses: pass a mental simulation. For Izuku, a holder of One For All, this idea ends in catastrophe. A series focused on the simulation, and everything that comes after.

Switchblade - Cacid

"I’m only two minutes late!” Izuku protested. Had he missed the start of an important test? None of the national, standardized tests were supposed to happen this month and even being two minutes late to one of those wouldn’t elicit this sort of reaction. They were discussing their career interest forms today, but that was it. Nothing time-critical was supposed to be happening. “Midoriya, you were reported missing a week ago. No one has seen you for eight days. The police have been combing the city for you.” "I’m sorry. What?” Midoriya Izuku went missing for a week and turned up in a back alleyway with skills he's never even heard of and no memory of how he came by them. He resigns himself to never learning the truth of what happened to him, but he shouldn't waste this chance should he? He could become a hero with reflexes like these. (Russian Translation available)

Razzmatazz - xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything. He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this. For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had. Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves. (Or: Izuku saves the number one hero, gets a hero license way earlier than anyone wanted, realizes that maybe hero society isn’t as great as he thought it was, and everything just kind of falls apart from there.)

third couch is the charm - laurenshappenstobemyhusband

Shouto trained for years to control his ice. Encasing everything in ice whenever he sneezed, got angry or startled, or just whenever he wasn't paying attention always got him into trouble, and he's glad he finally has complete control over his right side. Unfortunately, he can't say the same about his flames. OR: Todoroki sets three couches on fire, which apparently is too many, so now he has to take quirk control classes with Kaminari and they bond over mutual destruction

All's Well - Vexfulfolly

Trigger + Katsuki Bakugou = One hell of a precarious situation OR What it's like to be a walking bomb.

El Manisero - Lila17

"that fic where Sero runs a peanut cartel at UA"

see it all in bloom - aloneintherain

Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.” (Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

and i know these don't REALLY count because they're mine, but here's my OWN gen fics that I had a GREAT time writing

And in the forest, I can be free

His prosthetic leg was covered in stickers. Her hands were stained with marker ink in wonderful multicolor. She could color outside the lines. She could color inside the lines. She could color the skin pink or the hair black or whatever color she wished. She could ignore the lines entirely and just draw whatever she wanted. Chiasaki would have never allowed any of this. She doesn’t freeze or feel that horrible feeling in her chest at the thought of him anymore. Instead she only felt... Something else. It was a warmer feeling, one that settled in her gut. It took a few days of this new feeling to be recognized and named- anger. She wasn’t as afraid anymore, that had grown into anger. How could anything in this so-called “sick” place ever be bad? She admires her color-stained hands, the shoes that were allowed to remain dirty, the softness of fresh mud during a rainstorm under her hands. Sand between her fingers, dust wiped away from glass to reveal a view of the forest. Eri doesn’t care if she’s cursed. She doesn’t care if this entire world is covered in little germs that would make her sick. Eri loves it so much. - A look at Eri and her relationship with cleanliness

Within Rime and Reason

1. He reached up to touch the base of his scar. Somehow, without the red hair framing it, it looked almost like a birthmark. Less of a harsh, angry burn scar and more of a memory. He didn’t look like a man with a tragic past, he looked like a boy. If he wasn’t completely blind in that eye, he would almost believe it was one. “You look so manly,” Kirishima breathes. “No,” Todoroki says with a smile. “I look like my mother. I look womanly.” 2. And suddenly so many pieces of the puzzle drop into place. His eye is unseeing. White pupil. Milky iris. With the skin around it poreless and hairless. Easy to cover up with makeup. Oil-less and unmoisturized. Like a scar. Like a burn. “Todoroki,” Mina says softly. The brush she’s holding drops to her lap. “This isn’t a birthmark I’m covering up, is it?” - Todoroki gets a makeover. Emotional conversations happen.

have fun and enjoy!

[steddieasitgoes]

Stolen Kisses & Sundae Wishes

3.4K Words | Teen and Up | ao3 link

This was written for day three of @steddie-week. The prompts I used were first kiss and discover! As always it ended up way longer than I intended! You can read it below or on ao3. Enjoy!

"You know this basement used to be mine before Mike took it over?" Nancy says, looking around the cluttered basement fondly.

"Those little thieves," Eddie teases, stretching out on the worn, scratchy blue carpet.

They're all gathered in the Wheeler's basements — the kids banished to the Byers' new place for the weekend — to celebrate one last hang out before their lives change for the better. Nancy leaves for Emerson tomorrow afternoon. Argyle and Jonathan to New York on Monday. Robin, Steve, and Eddie scheduled to get the keys to their new apartment near Indiana State in a little over a week.

They're growing up.

And yet, the basement looks like they're still kids who don't know what they're doing with their lives.

The coffee table is piled high with pizza boxes and other snacks. A soda can tower barely hanging on as Robin adds another empty Coke can. The basement should be filled with beer cans and Palm Tree Delight joints, but none of that stuff has the same effect on them it once did. Getting drugged by Russians, making a drunken scene at parties, and waking up from on bad drug-enhanced nightmare has them all acting a bit more sober than usual.

Still, there's a rawness in the air that Steve's only used to being around at parties when everyone is under the influence, feeling happy and chatty.

"I had my first kiss right here," Nancy says, patting the paisley couch.

"Oh, are we talking about first kisses, brochachos?" Argyle asks, sitting up from where he's been sprawled out under Mike's designated DnD table. "Mine was wild."

"I'm sure it was," Jonathan says, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "But I don't think Nancy meant for everyone to share their stories."

"Aw, come on, my dude. It'll be fun!"

“I don’t know Argyle. I think Jonathan’s right on this one,” Steve chimes in.

It’s not the answer everyone was expecting from him by the way everyone’s heads whirl around to face him. Sure, he spent his high school years making out in crowded Hawkins High hallways, not caring who was watching. But this feels different.

First kisses are special and awkward, and well, if he’s honest, Steve doesn’t want to hear Eddie wax poetic about his first kiss like he knows he’ll do because Eddie is a storyteller. He doesn’t know how to tell them anything unless it’s woven with dragon slaying and metaphors that go over Steve’s head.

Last week, Robin had to give him the SparkNotes version of Eddie’s terrible interview after Eddie went on a ten-minute rant about the horrors of job interviews.

“Now we have to hear your first kiss story, Stevie. It must be really terrible if you don’t want to share with us,” Eddie teases, sitting up from the floor.

“Hate to break it to you, Munson, but it wasn’t anything exciting. Just an innocent first kiss in a dark room. I don’t even know what she looked like.”

Eddie groans, tossing his head back onto the empty space next to Nancy on the couch. His hair flops around him, draping over her thighs. “You’re the worst storyteller ever! Come on, Wheeler, paint us a picture of your first kiss. Show Stevie how it’s done.”

Steve doesn’t think Nancy is going to take Eddie’s bait, but she does, and Steve’s reminded yet again that he really has no idea what goes on in Nancy Wheeler’s head. Never did and never will.

Nancy goes on to tell them about Connor Fritz. They were childhood best friends before his family moved when his mom got a better teaching job at Northwestern. The basement was their post-school hangout, but unlike Mike and his friends, all they ever got up to down here was homework until one summer afternoon.

“We were supposed to go to the pool but stayed in instead. It was our final day together before he moved, and he was really nervous. I was too. We were starting middle school in a few weeks, and now we were going to be totally friendless. And kiss-less since we didn’t go to Carol’s 11th birthday party.”

“The spin-the-bottle party,” Steve snorts in remembrance. He still has no idea how Carol convinced her parents to leave them unattended in her basement for hours. It’s a good thing they all thought kissing was sex at that age. If not, well, Steve’s certain at least one kid would have been conceived in Carol’s game closet.

“The very one,” Nancy smiles. “So anyway, we were just talking about how mad we were that we weren’t going to be there for each other, and then he said something like, “well, I can still help you with one thing,” and then he kissed me.”

“That’s the sweetest first kiss story ever,” Robin coos from the floor. She’s lying on the same itchy blue carpet as Eddie, her head using Steve’s lap as her very own pillow.

It’s easy from their position for Steve to glance down at Robin to check in with her. Robin has her own streak of jealousy that runs through her, so he can’t imagine this conversation is any fun for her either. Instead of finding her lips pressed thinly together and a vacant look in her eyes, though, he finds her smiling.

Huh? She’s stronger than me, he thinks.

“What about you, Robin?”

“Oh me?” Robin laughs dryly, lifting her head out of Steve’s lap and pushing herself up into a seated position next to Steve. “I mean, I guess it was at summer camp in 1980 with this kid whose name I don’t even remember. But uh, I don’t really think it counts since I don’t exactly, you know, like kissing guys.”

“What’s the girl story then?” Eddie asks.

Without hesitating, Steve reaches a hand out to Robin. Lets it rest on her crossed thigh before giving her a reassuring squeeze.

This is also why he didn’t want this conversation to take place.

“It, uh, hasn’t happened yet.”

“No need to fret, Robin Hood! There will be plenty of dudettes to mack out with at that fancy school of yours. So many little fishies waiting for your lips.”

Robin snorts, shaking her head. “I hope your right,” she says, ducking her head for a moment. “What about you, Argyle?”

“Picture this, my dudes,” he says, hopping up onto his feet. “You’ve got Palm Tree Delight in one hand, a beautiful girl holding your other hand. The sky is doing that weird painter with the missing ear thing it does when all the colors start twirling together. And then everything starts spinning, and the next thing you know you’re in the grass with a beautiful girl on top of you, and she’s not just kissing you for Purple Palm Tree Delight, but she’s kissing you because she wants to taste your lips.”

“See, that’s how you tell a story!”

“Thanks, my dude.”

Eddie hops up on his feet, crossing the small distance to high-five Argyle. Their hands’ clasp in the moment, turning the innocent high-five into a weird handholding moment that neither seems to want to break.

Steve absolutely isn’t jealous.

“Yeah, well, not all of us are storytellers, Munson.”

“Allow me to give you a lesson in storytelling then,” Eddie says, finally prying his hand free from Argyle’s grasp. He saunters into the middle of the basement and gestures with his hands. “Everyone take your seats, please.”

Robin snorts as she crawls over to the couch, taking a seat on the floor where Eddie previously sat. Nancy’s still perched on the couch next to Jonathan, and Argyle collapses to his left. Steve’s the last to find his spot, making himself comfortable next to Robin.

“First, you start with the set up,” he says, talking directly at Steve before moving to address the rest of them. “It was 1976. I was ten years old, and I was in Hawkins visiting Wayne for the summer. Usually, my dad would bring me out to visit for a few days, but he got caught up with “work,” you know, hot-wiring cars and stripping them for parts, so I spent the whole summer here with Wayne.

“It was a humid July day. The air thick and hard to breathe,” he says, pausing to turn to Steve again. “A good story always has details about the senses, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but keeps listening.

“I remember I was covered in sweat ‘cause Wayne had the day off and needed to patch up the patio of the trailer after I tore it up, saving a raccoon family. Course, I had to help. I was sweating buckets. My hair was shoulder-length at the time, and it was sticking to me, and so was everything else.

“We finally finished as the sun was setting and Wayne must’ve felt bad for keeping me hostage all day — not like I had anywhere else to go, really. Everyone already had their own friends in Hawkins. I was just some weird outsider who liked to feed raccoons. So, he felt bad and told me to take a quick shower ‘cause he was taking me out for ice cream.

“I’m thinking he’s taking me to the new Dairy Queen that I saw on the way into Hawkins a month ago. But no, the old man takes me to some rundown, hole-in-the wall ice cream parlor in the old downtown of Hawkins. The part they eventually tore down for Starcourt.

“And this place. Man, I’ll never forget it. It was like ice cream threw up inside. Every wall was painted after a different ice cream. And not the normal ones, either. There was a rainbow sherbet wall and turtle tracks one. A giant abstract sundae mural behind the counter.

“Jesus H. Christ and the name! I was only 11, but even I knew the name was an issue. I mean, who names an ice cream shop The Lick —-

“N’ Bite,” Steve supplies.

There’s a sinking feeling in Steve’s stomach when Eddie turns towards him again. Eddie hates being interrupted, a fact Steve knows because he’s constantly getting reprimanded for interrupting Eddie’s story flow. Whatever the hell that means. But the look Eddie’s giving him isn’t his usual one of annoyance; it’s one of pure curiosity.

“You know it?”

Steve nods. “Tommy’s mom used to take us there after basketball practice.”

“Huh, wouldn’t expect to see your type at a dive ice cream shop,” Eddie shrugs, then launches back into his story.

There’s another five minutes of Eddie describing all the flavors he sampled that day in great detail — “they had this one called fresh and clean that tasted like Wayne’s laundry detergent. I was so convinced it was one of the ingredients!” — before Eddie finally gets to the kiss side of the story.

“Wayne’s catching up with the only guy working the place, and I really want another scoop of Sinful Cinnamon, so I figure, what the hell? I’ll scoop it myself. But there’s none left in the tub, so I head into the back. There’s this giant walk-in freezer in the back that has all the tubs in it, and it’s cracked open.”

The sinking feeling in Steve’s stomach returns as Eddie keeps talking. He tries not to squirm next to Robin, doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself, but he can feel his heart beating faster and faster as realization hits Steve.

“Didn’t you used to hide out at an ice cream shop when your parents started arguing?” Robin whispers.

Steve nods, too scared of what his voice will sound like if he answers verbally.

"The damn door closes behind me, and it's pitch black in this room, right. And it's cold. So fucking cold. I thought my eyes were going to freeze over. Course, the door is locked from the inside, so I'm thinking, great, I'm going to die in a damn ice cream freezer, and my dad is gonna have my uncle arrested for child endangerment even though my dad's done way worse when I catch something out of the corner of my eye.

"Next thing I know, there's this kid standing in front of me. I thought I was hallucinating! All I could see were a pair of light-colored eyes in front cause everything else was so dark, but then he lamely asked if I was here looking for ice cream too, and I knew I didn't imagine him cause, dammit he would have said something a lot cooler if I was."

“What else was I supposed to say? I was a kid!”

Eddie whirls around so fast, his legs tangle as he moves to face them, but mostly Steve. Robin’s mouth is open wide beside Steve, jaw unhinged like she’s about to have it broken in two by fucking Vecna. Steve can’t see Nancy, but he can tell by the quiet “oh my gods” she’s uttering that not even she was expecting this plot twist.

“You were there?” Eddie shouts, voice high pitched and eyes wide in utter disbelief.

“Woah, my dudes,” Argyle says, glancing between the two of them. “You guys were both locked in the ice cream freezer together? That’s wild.”

“They weren’t just locked in there, Argyle,” Jonathan hisses, elbowing him in the ribs. “They’re each other’s first kisses.”

“That can’t be true!” Eddie throws his hands in the air and begins pacing. “Steve said his first kiss was with some girl in a dark room. That’s not what I’m describing!”

“I mean, I thought it was a girl. They had long hair, and I didn’t know any guys who had long hair back then,” Steve says, pushing himself up to his own feet. He doesn’t start pacing, though, feet frozen to their spot on the floor instead. “But I did have my first kiss in an ice cream freezer. That’s why it was dark.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s, uh, that’s a little weird, but we don’t know if it was the same ice cream freezer.”

“Do you regularly make it a habit of getting locked in ice cream freezers, Munson?” Steve snaps.

He doesn’t know why Eddie is reacting like this. A minute ago, he was fondly recounting the story of kissing some boy in a freezing cold ice cream freezer, and now? Now he’s trying way harder than he ever did in school to prove he didn’t kiss Steve. As if kissing Steve is a bad thing?

Is it a bad thing?

Sure, Eddie and Steve are friends now, but maybe there’s a part of Eddie that still hates Steve for who he was in high school.

Maybe, learning that Steve took this precious first from Eddie is the final straw.

“Hey, guys, why don’t we give them a minute to work this out?” Nancy says, already yanking Jonathan and Argyle up from the couch.

Robin hesitates as she looks at Steve. He knows she’s giving him an out, but he doesn’t take it. Gives her a small nod and a tight lip smile in return and sends her up the steps after Nancy and the guys.

When Steve turns back around, Eddie’s on the couch, head buried in his hands. He takes a deep breath before carefully lowering himself onto the opposite side of the couch.

“Everything okay over there, Munson?”

“Pretty far from it, Harrington.”

Steve tries not to wince at the mention of his last name. It’s been months since Eddie’s called him anything but Stevie in that annoying tilt of his voice. But here the ugly nickname is again. Driving a dagger straight through Steve’s heart.

Steve tries to assess the situation. Digs deep into that retired athlete's brain of his and tries to come up with a game-winning plan for how to navigate this conversation. But Steve's never been good with words. It's a lot easier to find the winning move when there are actual pawns to move instead of random letters spiraling through his brain.

The way he sees it, he has two options.

Option one: apologize. For what? Steve’s not sure, but that’s never stopped him from apologizing before. It’s not the ideal plan, but it’s the only plan Steve thinks will get Eddie to look at him again. And damn, does he miss Eddie’s eyes looking at him.

Option two: take the once-in-a-lifetime shot and tell Eddie the secret he’s been harboring since a certain March night when a broken bottle was dangerously close to his throat.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“For what it’s worth, it was a great kiss.”

“Don’t bullshit me, man!” Eddie groans. “This is embarrassing enough as it is.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize kissing me was so embarrassing,” Steve winces, recoiling in on himself.

“That’s not—“ Eddie groans again as he finally pulls his hands away from his face. He takes a moment before he turns to face Steve. “Why aren’t you more embarrassed? I mean, your first kiss was with a guy. Doesn’t that weird you out?”

“No? You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Yeah, but this is different. This isn’t Robin kissing Vickie or me kissing some random guy at a club. This is you! Patron Saint of Heterosexuality, Steve Harrington, having his kiss virginity stolen by some guy!”

“You didn’t steal it! I kissed you if you remember the rest of the story,” Steve says, jabbing his finger into Eddie’s scarred bicep. “And I’d do it again, because I’m not the Patron Saint of Hetereo—whatever it is you said!”

Steve's not sure how to describe the sound Eddie emits from the depths of his throat. It's a shill, almost demogorgon-like, but it lacks the danger that comes with a screech like that. Eddie's eyes are big and wild, pupils taking over every inch of the rich, warm brown Steve's come to lose himself in.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie on the couch, eyes glued to the shell-shocked expression on his face.

It’s now, or never, he thinks. The seconds are ticking by, and he has to take the shot now if he wants the satisfaction of the win.

“I like you, Eddie,” he whispers, loud enough for Eddie to hear but not loud enough for Robin and the rest of them to hear if they’re spying on them. Which he’s willing to bet they are. “I’ve liked you since March, and I spent the entire summer of 1976 liking you before I even knew who you were.”

“Steve, that’s—” Eddie shakes his head. “That’s ridiculous, you didn’t even know what I looked like. You thought I was a girl! It could have still been a girl! We don’t know for sure it was you I kissed!”

“Maybe this will help.”

Steve scoots closer, closing the gap between them but leaving enough space for Eddie to move away if he wants. He waits for a moment, and then another and only starts to lean in when Eddie gives him the smallest nod of his head.

Eddie shakes under Steve’s steadying hand as it moves to cup his cheek. He lets his thumb trace over the still-healing flesh of his scars as he tips Eddie’s head subtly to the left. And then Steve leans in, hot breath fanning over Eddie’s face. He watches Eddie’s eyelashes flutter shut and only when he’s certain they’re closed does he press his lips to Eddie’s.

It’s soft and tentative.

Maybe even a little bit awkward.

But then Eddie presses into him ever so gently, and the sparks fly.

Steve’s entire body breaks out with goosebumps. The same way they did all those years ago in the freezer, except this time, it has nothing to do with the arctic temperature.

They keep kissing. Gentle pecks, nothing more.

Steve’s too scared of scaring Eddie away with how deep his want is, and Eddie, well, Steve’s not entirely sure what’s going on in Eddie’s head, but he imagines he’s still reeling from this new discovery.

When they finally pull away, Eddie’s smiling. Dimples deep and on full display. He’s got a mischievous glint in his eye that Steve’s come to love from afar, but now that it’s directed at him? Well, Steve’s inside turn molten.

“Think our first kiss was sweeter, Stevie.”

Steve laughs and lets his head knock against Eddie’s boney shoulder as he buries his laughter in the crook of Eddie’s neck. “I did eat like three Turtle Track sundaes before I kissed you back then.”

Eddie hums. “Guess we better go get you a sundae then and try again.

Steve pulls away and looks at Eddie with his own face of bewilderment. “You want to? With me?”

“Steve,” Eddie jests. “I dreamt about the ice cream-flavored boy I kissed for years, until I found someone new to dream about in high school. Turns out, they turned out to be the same boy after all.”

[edutainer2022]

This was supposed to be for laughs, mostly (but ended up more sinister). It's March of the OCs, but I don't really do OCs. So they only have dialogue in this, but there IS a bit of backstory implied. I do think the Tracies would have inevitably pinned themselves on the radar of some counterterrorism or intelligence division of the GDF. I also maybe watched too much "Criminal Minds", "NCIS", and "Scorpion". This takes place after "Space Race".

PERSON OF INTEREST

"Please, tell me he didn't do it!"

"I'm afraid he did. The kid's space-rated. With parental concent."

"Ó meu Deus, what was Scott THINKING!?"

"I could throw together a quick profile, but I'm fairly certain that was a rhetorical question."

"The child is TWELVE!"

"Fourteen."

"Yeah, that changes everything and makes him soooooo much more qualified to DISARM AN ORBITAL NUKE!"

"..."

"Which... he wouldn't have done without assistance and intel."

"Now we're talking!"

"That's a moot point, anyway. We can't interrogate the boy without a legal guardian present."

"Who is on approach now and due to arrive from an earthquake in Peru in... about seven minutes."

"Four, if he pushes it to Mach 19. Which he will."

"So we don't have much time to coordinate a strategy. I think you better run point on the interview."

"That's... not necessarily a good idea."

"Listen, I'm the Big, Bad, Unknown Quantity guy, who's threatening the pup."

"That's his baby brother."

"Immaterial. Scott Tracy is a pack leader. That's his pup. He's gonna snarl, growl, bare his teeth and bark till I go away and not be a danger to his kid anymore. THEN he's gonna lawyer the child up, down and backwards. Probably the ginger Spaceman too."

"And you think he's gonna be less hostile if it's ME in the interrogation room? You HAVE read my file. We didn't exactly part on amicable terms. He's not going to be more forthcoming if it's me."

"No. But the boy might. He's raised in the household with strong, charismatic  female figures. He's not gonna be intimidated. If the child is not scared, Scott is more likely to calm down and comply with the line of questioning. We need to figure out how the nuclear codes were leaked, remember?"

"That's one vague tangent to build an interrogation on. Speaking of... We still need to interrogate the Ginger Tracy. He logged IR in for space junk duty."

"I'm on it. The trick is to get him down from orbit without their Intrepid Leader biting my head off. So keep him occupied, deal?"

"Good luck. That kid's a genius."

"I figured as much."

"No, you don't get it. A genius genius. Top 2% IQ".

"I'll take my chances."

"You do that. Simpson says he was responsible for the original crude code of Eos."

"Whoa! Alright. I'll do my homework, then take my chances. Are they ready to test Eos out in the open, by the way?"

"Not yet. The AI is acting out. Hey, hear that noise? Incoming Thunderbird in three... two... ONE..."

[howlingday]

Dark au

If the interview was podcasted how many actually believe it's a legitimate interview cause the fact that the location it was taken at was raided by police and huntsmen almost immediately after with white fang present could Beacan not just say Jaune was told to say those thing under threat of death and Lisa was in on it for the most part clearing Jaune's name a little bit at least

"As it stands now, the validity of the interview is..." General Ironwood held the thought for a moment, searching for the right words before continuing. "...not confirmable."

"Not confirmable?!" Professor Goodwitch balked. "Jaune Arc was being held hostage by the White Fang and Lisa Lavender was interviewing with him in the same building!"

"Through a pirate network that hacked the airwaves and was difficult to pinpoint." Ozpin said, hands folded in front of him. "Whoever was working with Miss Lavender has been doing their homework, and unfortunately, she's too busy speaking on talk shows across Remnant to be available for comment. Unless, of course, someone in the audience cares to shed light on the dubious subject."

"Which they won't." The general said, turning to look at the devastated young man seated with his partner. "Because she's only the second most talked about in Remnant right now."

Jaune didn't respond. His eyes were glued to the floor, and although he heard every word they said, his mind was too focused on the words Miss Lavender herself said that day. Jaune Arc was a coward. Jaune Arc was a spineless, gutless, worthless coward who only cared about himself.

Penny sat beside him, trying to get his attention. However, he was too far gone for her to reach him. She tried every method she could think of, and she could think of a lot, but all of them failed to get his attention. Her focus on him then became distracted when a shadow loomed over her, and looking up she saw piercing blue eyes glaring back down at her.

"You were supposed to protect him." He nearly snarled.

"I was... distracted-"

"That's not good enough, Polendina!" He shouted, trying to keep himself from roaring. "Your mission was to assist and provide support for Jaune Arc and you abandoned him to be abducted by the White Fang! What was so important that you would abandon your partner?!"

"I was distracted," she repeated, "by betta fish."

"You would put your partner's life below that of measly betta fish!" He said, more accusing than asking.

"No, I would never!" Penny defended.

"James-" Professor Ozpin spoke.

"And yet you did!" The general continued. "You would choose fish over your assignment!"

"No!"

"James!"

"YOU DID!"

"General Ironwood, sir!" The moment diffused, the group, sans Jaune, looked to the dark-skinned young woman standing at the door. A hand to her head, just below her blue beret, she sounded off. "Student Ciel Soleil, reporting as instructed, sir!"

"At ease, Soleil." Ironwood composed himself, realizing he'd let his semblance get the better of him. In front and towards a student no less. "Are you aware of why you are here?"

"Sir, I was informed that my assignment was to be transferred to Beacon within one week, sir."

"It's only been two days, Soleil."

"Yes, sir. My apologies, sir. The assignment came so suddenly that I spared some time to say good-bye to my loved ones, sir."

"Ja- General Ironwood, what is this?" Professor Goodwitch asked, surprised by the sudden appearance of the new student. "Who is this girl?"

"This is Ciel Soleil, a first-year student at Atlas." The general explained. "I spoke about her enrollment at Beacon with Ozpin shortly after learning about the interview. We cannot afford any further mistakes."

Penny flinched at the accusing tone. She'd failed in her mission, and for the most miniscule reason, too. Looking to Jaune, she saw he still didn't look away from the floor. She clenched her skirt in anger at herself for letting things get this bad.

A hand covered hers, one that was all too familiar to her. Her hand loosened it's grip as she felt the warm embrace of Jaune's hand.

"Soleil, starting today, you will be enrolled at Beacon Academy until graduation to ensure that Polendina does not fail in her assignment."

"Now wait just a minute!" Professor Goodwitch argued. "These students are not soldiers under your command!"

"No, but they are children under your tutelage." General Ironwood argued. "Under your protection."

"General Ironwood, if I may?" The headmaster of Beacon spoke. "While I agree that the current standing is not ideal, I don't believe forcing the issue will best resolve it. Especially when you are assigning a team that is only one-third enrolled. If Mr. Arc and Ms. Polendina wish to enroll, then they are free to do so at any time within the next year. However, the sole-enrollment of Miss Soleil without other students to join her at Beacon in her first year is concerning, to say the least."

"Then perhaps Mr. Arc and Ms. Polendina should consider enrolling." General Ironwood countered. "The tragedy on that day is one thing, but the violation of Mr. Arc's privacy and security in an entirely different beast."

"And acting like a beast solves nothing, General Ironwood." Professor Goodwitch argued. "You cannot simply enter Beacon Academy and force Mr. Arc to-"

"I can speak for myself."

The room was silent. All eyes looked to the young man who spoke, tears threatening but never falling from his eyes. His voice was heard for the first time, both publicly for everyone in Remnant and privately for those in this room to hear. Jaune Arc stood up, leaving Penny in her seat behind him, and walked past Professor Goodwitch and General Ironwood, not giving either a passing glance as he kept his eyes on the headmaster of the academy.

"I want to enroll at Beacon Academy." Jaune said with a voice that was only slightly shaking. "I... want to prove everyone wrong about me. I want to be a huntsman."

Ozpin smiled. "Professor Goodwitch, please bring me Mr. Ar- I mean, Jaune's enrollment papers."

[lordmartiya]

@mlbfemslashfebruary My (late) entry for day 14, dedicated to the weirdly fascinating pairing of Lila and Marinette. Set early in season 4, here's the first half of "Trust and Secrets Are to Be Treasured".

It was bad enough for Marinette that she had a cold, and had to skip school and the date with Luka. But to have Lila, of all people, bring her the homework? Get in her room while she couldn’t keep her away from her secrets?

“You do realize your mom will kill me if I try anything funny, right?” Lila said, almost as if she had read her mind. Or just her expression. “You say anything, and she demonstrates on me how a Monk’s Spade technique can be applied to a baker’s spatula.”

“How do you know about that?” Marinette asked, worried about how much her worst school enemy knew about her family.

“She did it on live television during the debacle with Jagged Stone, and then I looked up what Chinese weapon resembles a spatula the most. But let’s talk about sweeter things… Like these bugie I’ve brought you. They’re my favorite bakery good.”

For a moment, Marinette feared the food the other one was offering her was poisoned. Then her mind translated the food’s name, and she realized Lila Rossi was literally feeding her lies, and admitted she liked them.

“Seriously?” she asked as she involuntarily chuckled. “That was worse than Chat Noir’s puns.”

“Thank you. Though I suspect you’d like my truth better.” was Lila’s reply as she produced an envelope. “Here I have a handwritten list of all the false claims I’ve made and other bullshit I’ve pulled since I came to Paris, including a few things you would never suspect, and an USB drive with evidence, all to be used as needed.”

“What?! What are you trying to pull?”

“I’ve simply realized I fucked up. Deeply. Did you know I collaborated with the big bad butterfly man willingly, twice? All knowing I can easily take the idiot down and “save Paris”… And then that jackass’ stunt in New York nearly destroyed the world, twice. And I found out he got Shanghai destroyed by accident, though Ladybug fixed that. That’s when I realized the mess I’m getting myself into just to get back at the spotted near-nudist” once again Marinette cringed at her costume being practically painted on “and panicked. I was this close turning my hair in a wig and abusing embassy resources to create myself a few fake identities when I realized there was a better way, just give my leash to someone I can trust not to abuse it. That is, you.”

Marinette blinked as she processed the situation. To quote Chloé it was utterly ridiculous… But it made sense. It was even flattering that Lila trusted her so much. Still, she had to ask something.

“Why do you hate Ladybug so much?”

“Because she nearly destroyed me out of jealousy. I mean, remember my famous interview? I expected Alya to hold on it for a few days and then verify it with Ladybug, allowing me to reveal I had pranked the entire school… And then It was published on the same day. How many chances that Alya could be stupid enough to publish it without checking? And I even helped her getting some information I had stumbled upon and she was looking after on that day… Right as I was flirting with Adrien. Clearly she saw it and went to Alya to confirm it and then humiliate me, only for Adrien’s reaction not being what she expected and changing her plans.”

Marinette had almost no answer to that, not after what she had done with Kagami out of jealousy. Except that “Alya becomes an idiot whenever Ladybug is involved. Enough she thought Chloé was her even after she was saved by Ladybug on live television.”

“And how was she supposed to know it wasn’t a Lucky Charm decoy? At the time it was still plausible. But nevermind that. I hope I’m proven wrong… And trust you to keep the secret until it becomes necessary to stop me.”

“Ohhh…Kay. I’ll do it. What about Adrien?”

“There’s billions of people on this planet, I’m not going to obsess on one of them that already has a girlfriend. I think I already told you that once. And speaking of them… I’ve heard Andrè the Ice Cream Man let you choose your own magic ice cream, and it was orange and green like my favorite outfit?”

At that, Marinette blushed. She also swore to get even with whoever told Lila about that.

[maybanksbabe]

Ok but dilf rafe taking his daughter to go see one of her favorite artists, she's about 7-8 ish and rafe's taking her to go see rockstar!r live, he gets her special backstage passes to go at least get an autograph bc of how much his little girl talks about her.

He's done some light research on the band when she first mentioned how much she loved the band. It started when he asked her what she was listening to when she used his iPad to listen to music when she's getting her homework done and her eyes light up when she mentions r and the rest of the band, talking about how good she sounds and how she acts in interviews bc she just seemed so nice and looks so cool. So he's sitting at the table looking at her as she goes on and on about r and decides to look up at any up coming concerts or at least some cool official merch.

When he does see that there is some live concerts coming up just in time for her birthday he decides to go all out with it. I'm talking backstage passes and bringing a couple friends with her. Then when rockstar!r show's up to like sign autographs and what not she ends up Infront of rafe and his darling little princess and he says something like "my daughter wants to be you when she grows up" because truthfully she does, the whole reason why he brought her and her friends on this trip, why he used his family's private jet just to go to LA (with the other kid's parents too) is because of his daughters nonstop praises about rockstar. She talks about rockstar!r when rafe takes her to school, when she's supposed to do her homework, and when they're making dinner together. She's obsessed with r, his little girl wants her hair like R's she wants her clothes to be like R's the whole nine yards so having her meet r in person, even just for a short time, would mean so much to him because it means so much to her.

Rockstar!r stops for a moment having heard what rafe said and smiles genuinely at the pair Infront of her, she walk over and bends down to rafe's daughters height and says something like "dream bigger little bird, you can be anything you wanna be" and signs her picture with a little note of encouragement on the back and she stands back up to look rafe in the eyes before saying goodbye "you guys are adorable and I hope you enjoyed the show" she looks down at the kids and finishes signing the other things little Cameron's friends give her before speaking again "but I've gotta go now, ok? And don't forget you can be anything you want to be" The little girl nods and squeals before quickly talking to her friends when she's out of earshot, rockstar!r takes one last look at the pair and catches rafe's eye. They look at each other before she heads off to her private room. He looks at her as if he's silently thanking her, she's looking at him and waves and then waves to the little girl who made her day and smiles when she rapidly waves back before finally reaching her dressing room.

Idk but rafe definitely buys more tickets to her shows after that, but only because his daughter really loves the band and what not... That's definitely the only reason 😉 It's definitely a fun thought to think about 🤷🏽‍♀️

🫠�� I love this!! So much!!!

[dark-elf-writes]

Make sure to put your omega in their place. They are not equal to Alphas and must be made to understand this by any means necessary.

Shoto nods solemnly at the advice and closes the book with faintly dusty fingers as tilts his head back against the headboard.

Not equal…well that’s true enough. For all that Izuku is his friend and partner, there is a vast chasm between them that he’s failed to acknowledge as of yet. That was a mistake that would have to be corrected. Immediately.

Grabbing a box from where it was tucked away in his nightstand, Shoto makes his way out the door with hasty steps. At this time, Izuku would have already taken his post-workout shower, so he was either in his room doing homework or going though light flexibility stretches in a different training room.

But no, that’s not right. He drank a cup of matcha tea this morning instead of a bottle of lemon water. That means Izuku would be in the kitchen getting something to drink and would be inevitably dragged into a conversation in the common room.

Altering his path to lead to the common room, Shoto turns the corner, only to sidestep as he narrowly avoids getting run into.

“Sorry about that,” Kaminari laughs with electricity sparking from his skin nervously. “Where are you rushing to anyway, man?”

“I have to put Izuku in his place as my omega”

Yellow eyes widening in shock, Kaminari goes oddly still before jerking into movement all at once with flailing hands. “I-dude don’t you think that’s a little…I mean you’ve been pretty, uh, non-traditional about that so far?”

Frustration building at the reminder of his failure, Shoto lets out a faint snarl to make the blond leave him alone. At least it was supposed to be a faint snarl, though the beta’s barely covered flinch was enough to indicate he failed at that too.

If anything, however, Kaminari’s attention seemed to sharpen on him instead of leaving. “Just tell me why your trying to do that to him yeah? What changed? I swear if it was one of those 2-B assholes I’ll beat all their asses.”

Side stepping the hand reaching for his shoulder, Shoto flashes his teeth. “I should have done it earlier. It was a mistake not to,” he growls.

Ignoring the blond hurrying after him, he stalks down the hall and into the common room where Izuku’s scent is strongest. Walking into the room, vivid emerald eyes immediately meet his own and the weight of his failure quickly fades under the force of Izuku’s smile.

He couldn’t have screwed up that bad if his partner is still willing to look at him like this. Smile at him as soon he walks into the room like a compass turning north. But that hardly matters, he made a mistake in not showing Izuku their place and that had to be fixed.

Moving more sedately than before with his partner in sight, Shoto gently tugs Izuku out of their seat until they’re standing before him with a faintly confused look on their pretty face.

Without delay, he drops to his knees in front of Izuku and ignores the gasps and choking from around them with practiced ease.

Holding up the neatly wrapped box he grabbed from his nightstand, Shoto allows himself to watch freckles cheeks turn a pretty pink and eyes light in excitement as Izuku unwraps the delicate eternal-ice necklace he made with changeable viales of poison attached.

“You place is anywhere in my life where I can worship you.”

He could have done without Kaminari’s wheezing breaths and unintelligible mumbling in the background, but he supposed seeing Izuku’s doe eyes fill with happy tears would move anyone to speechlessness.

(I hate how this turned out but I figured I would send it to you anyway, cuz why not)

ALPHA SHOUTO WOULD 100% KNEEL IN FRONT OF OMEGA IZUKU BECAUSE THAT IS THEIR PLACE AND UAJSJDHSB

Shouto would be the loudest Omega Rights advocate alright. Man would never stop screaming from the top of his lungs for people to Be Better and he would also not shy away from where he learned it either just.

Interviewer: So how did you learn to be like this? Was it from watching your parents?

Shouto, way too close to the mic, blown out like it’s a haha funny tiktok: Absolutely not. I basically saw everything my father inflicted on my mother and decided I was going to do the exact opposite.

His publicist is off camera and in tears as they try to get ahead of the fallout.

[harmoniouspixels]

It's Me, Hi, Making a Life Post it's Me

Manifesting once again for my infrequent life update to this blog ft. occasional sims posting! (The sims posting will come shortly I gotta shuffle through some screenshots first.)

Man, this blog really feels like an Up North cottage that I don't get around to as much these days, but can't quite let it go - the active posting era I was in prior to the pandemic definitely lead to a creative burnout I still am recovering from, but I suppose that it's still the hardest with the sims given that it was such a mainstay. I know it's a touch odd to continue to reflect on that point when I do pop in, but in a way it's cathartic? Especially as I'm slowly but surely rediscovering the game again for the fun it brought me prior to joining simblr, and I want to recapture that feeling when I play. (Of course I've got elaborate storylines still, but it's much easier to keep them contained to just myself without drafting or creating dialogue for a queue.)

On a personal note, for those keeping score at home, I finished my masters this summer! That's part of the reason why after getting the Crystal Valley queue going I dropped of the face of the earth again. I was in the trenches writing my 52 page thesis. Tack on having our Dean of Students, who was previously a lawyer mind you, as my professor meant I needed to constantly proofread and add research. However, after completing it with an A- (thank the Lord and everything holy for that) not having homework for the past two months for the first time in seemingly my entire life has been freeing. I've also been on the job hunt to move into a similar position at a new institution making more money... but unfortunately I'm stuck in the first round of interviews I've gotten. (Silver lining is I'm actually getting interviews instead of being completely ghosted.)

Also, I've deleted my Twitter accounts across the board and that was such a freeing move. I hate that how Muskrat has gotten it into the state it's in, but unless someone were to take over and have a conscience that's one major dumpster fire I needed to get out of.

Toss on the rollercoaster the 2024 election has been things have been crazy. (I guess the craziest part to me outside of the presidential race is that my lifelong Republican parents voted a straight ticket for the Democratic Party for the first time in this election and that still has me shook, but I'm incredibly thankful they never bought into the crazy and are sticking up for the country over party loyalty.)

Anyway, long time no see! I hope you're all doing well to the best of your ability.

[the-wales-5]

"Miscommunication"

15th December 2022.

It was supposed to be a nice day for Catherine and her family but instead of feeling happy, she was frustrated more than ever. Her brother-in-law, someone who a few years before considered her to be his "sister he never had" was now criticising her official role and personality in a Netflix documentary.

In different circumstances, she would not let it affect her. Now though she spent the morning sipping coffee and trying not to show her real emotions to William. Her husband felt similar emotions and was irritated & angry. Despite that, he knew that releasing official statements would not be useful, especially right before Christmas time.

"Papa, is everything okay?" George asked as he entered the kitchen and noticed his father's facial expression

"Yes, I am fine. Do you have everything ready for today's lessons?"

"Yes and Charlotte is ready too. I was helping her with homework yesterday when mummy was decorating Christmas trees at Westminster Abbey"

"I cannot wait to see these Christmas trees!" Charlotte said when she joined her dad and brother

"Only a few hours left, Lottie" Catherine kissed her daughter on the cheek "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. Although I couldn't sleep for long because of my excitement, you know? I am counting down the hours even!"

Louis joined his family and was rather confused by his sister's words.

"Where are you going, Charlotte? Are you counting down the hours to what?"

"Mummy's concert. Together At Christmas"

"May I go there too?" Louis pouted

"No, LouLou. Maybe next year. Not now yet"

Catherine fixed his hair and forced herself to smile.

/

After the children left for school, William wanted to talk with his wife about that Netflix documentary and their thoughts. He could read her mind and see that she, just like he, undoubtedly was fed up with that constant drama coming from the pair of Montecito

"Let me prepare clothes for myself for this evening" were the only words he heard back from her after he attempted to start a conversation.

"You are doing that again. You are avoiding me, neglecting our chance to talk things through. We shouldn't be doing that, it only damages our relationship, Catherine".

Her eyes were focused on clothes she kept in a wardrobe. At last, her husband shouted without holding himself back:

"STOP THIS IDIOTIC SITUATION, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

Catherine barely looked at him and chuckled with sorrow before turning away her head once again.

/

His wife was finishing the last makeup lines on her face. William wanted to apologise, to reconcile with her before the Christmas concert.

"Stop it. I'll be late" she said after he touched her arm

"We need to talk"

"Not now" she rolled her eyes "I have to go to Westminster Abbey, to greet everyone there"

"We could go all together

"George and Charlotte might get bored soon"

"They were attending this kind of engagements before, weren't they?"

"Indeed, but--..' she stopped and looked at her reflection in the mirror

"But what? Tell me, Catherine"

"I'd rather go there alone first" she said as she looked at him with sharp eyes "Are you satisfied with the answer?'

"So now you are ignoring not only me but George and Lottie too?"

"It doesn't mean I ignore them. They still need to finish their homework. After all, it's a school day tomorrow. Remember about the most simple things before making such big and unreasonable statements. One thing you've done today is unreasonable enough".

Those were Catherine's last words before leaving the bathroom and he knew what she meant. His and his father's equerries were to accompany her this evening. Similar situation to the one after 'that' interview, for Prince Philip's funeral when William's equerry accompanied his wife. For her, those decisions were unnecessary.

He heard her saying 'see you later' to their older children and 'warning' Charlotte so as to not let Orla jump at her after she wore her red coat. And she left. He watched through the window as she greeted her official assistant with a warm smile and got up into the car.

She indeed was happy. Happy to be back at Westminster Abbey in such beautiful circumstances, with the snow covering the trees around it. There she met her husband's and father in law's equaries. At that moment she thought that, perhaps, it was not a bad decision on her husband's part anymore. She went inside the Abbey to greet the guests and could notice the Middleton family too.

William, George and his sister arrived there less than an hour later. Catherine decided to go outside to see them. Shortly afterwards, they were sitting inside and Princess Charlotte was excited to hear a mention of Paddington Bear. During this evening Catherine looked in her husband's direction only once. When they were back home, she was the one to try to talk again but now it was William who seemed to feel irritated and avoided her completely. She tried once more, after their children were asleep.

"Don't you think a conversation between us is necessary?" Catherine said in a cold voice

"I have been trying to begin it earlier. You refused. Now if you'll excuse me, I will go to the bathroom. It's been a long, tiring day" .

"Yes. You are right" Catherine murmured and closed her eyes.

They fell asleep without saying "good night" to one another. Unusual and hurtful situation.

/

"We can't go on like this forever" Catherine said finally, in the afternoon, hours after their last conversation.

"What do you mean?' William scoffed

"Your stubbornness to communicate with me"

"You have started it yourself"

"Yes, and I regret it" Catherine sighed and looked at him. "I'm sorry. We should have had a conversation about everything yesterday, about that documentary and our feelings"

'We should have but you rejected my attempt to do that, Catherine"

"I know but it's Christmas time soon and it's unnecessary to fight over these things"

"Are we fighting? Am I fighting with you?" William asked and chuckled with sorrow just like his wife did the day before. "They did it again. Again, they insulted your role in that shitty documentary and yet there's nothing I can do. It's okay though" he scoffed "Really. It's fine, I am used to doing nothing to protect you"

"You do everything you can, and besides, I don't care about their words or what videos they use to push their narrative"

"I know you do care. You're just hiding your feelings to protect me, aren't you?"

Catherine was silent now.

"See? I am right" he said and got up from the sofa

"Where are you going?" His wife asked

"My therapy session will start in 20 minutes, I better go there now"

"I'm going with you. We have to talk about it together. You cannot avoid me. We're a team, remember?"

William looked at her and left the room. She followed him, grabbed his arm and looked into his eyes, her husband shrugged off and wanted to say something but right then they noticed George and pretended to behave as if nothing happened. Catherine went to the garden to play with Orla, and her husband to his office where he waited for his therapist.

/

Despite her hopes, The Princess of Wales was not able to focus on playing with her dog. After less than 30 minutes, she threw a ball for Orla for the last time and went back to the house, wanting to interrupt her husband's therapy session, to join him there and listen to his words and to try to solve their problems with sincere conversations later in the day.

/

"And she is stubborn. She does not understand that I want to do something else to protect her, not only sending my equerry to accompany her when there's danger around us. She is worrying about everything that happens. I could see yesterday how annoyed and frustrated she felt. This year we suffered enough and yet instead of supporting each other, we're arguing now at the end of it"

"Why are you arguing?" His therapist asked

"I guess we both are tired of all those changes that happened. In the summer, we both were fine when it comes to official and private lives, to our mental health too. My wife was the happiest when I surprised her with our move to Adelaide cottage. You see, it was her dream to live in a place like this, close to Berkshire and her parents' house.

Our children have started a new school. And right when we thought that everything was going to be fine, one phone call on the following day ruined it…"

"You mean the death of.."

"Yes, the death of my grandmother. The change of titles, of our lives forever. I've always been frightened at the thought of that moment. For years. I know it would've been easier without the constant drama within my family. I am pretty sure this book aims to attack my wife. I am simply failing to protect her. Again..".

/

Right when she heard those words, Catherine decided to leave the house. She was running. Almost fell down the stairs but she didn't pay attention to that. All she could feel was hurt. Her heart was breaking to know that her husband was once again blaming himself over something that was not his fault. There also was frustration in her caused by the fact that William didn't want to share anything and was avoiding her instead.

As she sat down on the sofa in the living room, Orla joined her again. The Princess petted her fur and asked through tears:

"Do you want to go on a trip somewhere?".

Orla looked at her and whimpered.

She travelled to the Adelaide cottage. When she finally stood in one of the rooms, she shouted: "I NEVER NEEDED THIS HOUSE! I NEVER NEEDED YOUR SACRIFICE! WHY ARE YOU TORTURING YOURSELF FOR MY SAKE?!" .

She broke down crying as she sat down on the floor.

/

Her husband was still at Kensington Palace, he left his office and said goodbye to his therapist. After he entered the living room and did not see his wife there, the prince of Wales started to feel concerned.

He tried to phone her four times but she declined those attempts. The fifth time was successful, Catherine picked up but only to tell him "I am staying at Adelaide cottage. Do not come here. Tell the children not to worry. I'll be back home by the morning". She did not want to hear what he had to say or to questions full of confusion and simply ended the call which was followed by switching the phone off.

Her eyes were puffy and red now. She hated that she rejected her husband. All she needed were his strong arms around her waist and his words full of support she knew she would receive in every possible situation. Yet, she decided to stay only with her dog at her, once, 'dream house'.

/

William was obliged to tell George, Charlotte and Louis about their mother's "urgent visit" in Berkshire so as to relieve their anxiety over not seeing their mum upon their return from school that afternoon and for the rest of the day. In the evening, the kids were talking with her over the phone. Catherine, surprisingly for herself, lied to them about the reason for her 'escape' very well.

"Won’t you talk with me as well? This is ridiculous and you know that, Kate"

"You know what else is ridiculous?" She asked but stopped herself at the last moment and hung up again. Then, filled the bowl with food for her dog and went to bed. She correctly assumed that William didn't sleep throughout the night, just like she did not.

He knew every thought she had on her mind, so now he was aware that she in fact lied about coming home the next morning.

/

In the very early morning, William along with his three kids, travelled to see his wife in Adelaide cottage.

She opened the door when it was 7 AM.

"What--.. what are you doing here?" She murmured

"Surprise, mummy!" Charlotte screamed happily and hugged Catherine. Then the 7-year old frowned though "You told us you were in Berkshire".

"That's because I was there to help your grandmother before Christmas. But I came here later, you know?"

Charlotte nodded and with Louis they slowly went towards her room in Adelaide cottage. The younger siblings still felt really sleepy because their father woke them all up an hour before.

"George, join them please" William told his son and then looked at Catherine. She asked with narrowed eyes:

"What's that supposed to mean? You brought kids here in the morning without a phone call earlier?

"You wouldn't pick up the call from me, Catherine"

"Of course, I would! What are you even talking about? By the way, can't you see they are sleep-deprived and most likely think I lied about the destination where I am!"

"This is because you are stubborn and you escaped"

"I escaped? Seriously?" She scoffed and added: "William, you are the one who is escaping from me, pretending to protect me. I can see it and yesterday I could hear you telling that to your therapist"

"You--.. you've heard everything?" William was speechless now and just stared at his wife's face. She nodded and looked away.

"Kate.. I am sorry for saying that you are stubborn and for what they continue to do"

"You are sorry only for this? Not for avoiding me? Not for this fatal miscommunication between us which you caused? Do you really think I care about them so much? I already told you I don't but still you think I am stubborn. I would do everything to make you feel better, just like you would do for me!" She said louder and tried not to show her real feelings again.

"Hsshh.." William said as he approached her

"Yes, I know. The kids are sleeping. I should've not shouting like this in the morning"

"No" William said and put his index finger on her lips, caressing them "Don't say anything now. I was stubborn and stupid and I regret it like never before. Believe me that I just want to make you feel better and--"

"Stop. You're blaming yourself again, and you are again forgetting about yourself, your own feelings" she said in a cold voice and stepped back "Go to sleep just like our kids. You must feel sleepy too"

"Catherine.."

"No. Let's not talk about it now"

"So when?"

"I do not know. Go to sleep" Catherine murmured

"Fine.." her husband nodded and looked at her face once again, he hoped she would change her behaviour after a few seconds but that did not happen. Instead, Kate passed him by and walked to the room where Louis was sleeping.

The Prince of Wales went to the bedroom where Orla was. He weakly smiled and lay down next to his dog. "Good morning, Orla" he said and petted his dog "I hope your mummy was sleeping throughout the night. I hope you looked after her well. Continue, until she lets me do that".

/

William, Catherine and their three children left Adelaide cottage in the afternoon. All this time the prince tried to talk with his wife. She was resistant though and ignored him again.

Upon coming back home, she kissed him on the cheek and quietly said "I forgive you. Just don't hide anything from me anymore". Cold in comparison to their other reconciliations. He didn't know if reconciliation was actually Catherine's aim or if she just wanted to show children that their relationship is fine again because they all seemed to worry about it earlier.

He wanted to ask why her reaction was so weird but she quickly followed Louis who wanted to go play in his room.

"Are we reconciled?" He asked when they were both in the bathroom and Catherine was combing her hair

"Yes, why wouldn't we? I told you I forgive you"

"Yes, indeed but we did not talk about it further and-"

"Do we need to? We are both 40 years old"

"This is odd behaviour still, Catherine. Normally, we would have a sincere conversation after your apology" He gently grabbed her hand "We are a team, remember?" .

Catherine shivered. Those were the same words she spoke to him a few days before.

She opened her mouth so as to say something but looked away once again. William caressed her back and whispered her name. "We both made mistakes. A sincere conversation is needed".

"What about reconciling with a kiss?" Catherine whispered and put her lips close to her husband's but he held her arms, stopping her.

"No, Kate" he sighed

"Why?" She murmured and looked at him with sharp eyes

"You know why" .

Catherine nodded and lay down on the bed, away from her husband.

/

Almost all of their conversations until Christmas were either full of tension or Catherine's neglect. On December 24th, they arrived at Sandringham and, once again, were pretending to behave as if their situation was normal. They usually were doing that for Charlotte, Louis and George, but now also for the rest of the family members. To show unity during the first Christmas after William's grandmother's death.

In their room, after The Princess of Wales took a shower and checked if her and children's clothes for the following day were ready, she covered herself with a duvet.

"Kate.. Look at me. Let us talk finally, it's Christmas" William said

"Does it change something?" She scoffed.

William sighed and went to the other side of the room. His frustration was very visible.

"This is getting more than stupid, Catherine!

You ignore me for no reason now. Is it just because I rejected your kiss and wanted a sincere conversation?!"

'What if I am not ready for that conversation?!" She asked "What if I am tired of everything just like you are, as you admitted to your therapist and not to me?!"

"This is reasonably clear to me that we both are tired. What I don't understand is your…" he sighed

"Stubbornness?" Catherine chuckled with sorrow "Say it. Say that word that links each of our conversations recently! SAY IT!"

William looked at his wife's reflection in the mirror in front of him and shook his head.

"I am not going to say it. You said it yourself".

/

25th December 2022.

"Happy Christmas" were words that echoed around Sandringham in the morning. Two people, though, did not say that to one another. They simply focused on their children and preparations to leave for the church.

"Have you exchanged gifts with papa, mummy?" Louis asked when they were on the way out of the castle.

"We have exchanged gifts" William replied instead, looked at Catherine and at last spotted that she was wearing those new earrings he gifted her.

She indeed wore new earrings that she earlier found on the table next to the bed with a card: "Merry Xmas. W". Simple short note, not the little bit longer that would end with "I love you, W". She didn't deserve to get one like that after all.

Not after all those circumstances that occurred between them beforehand. And she knew that. She knew that no matter what her husband was hiding, it was her fault they were having constant arguments. He was right from the very beginning. One sincere conversation on December 15th would, at least partly, solve their problems. There was no need for frequent fights. She rejected his request to talk ten days before, then she escaped and distanced herself, putting blame onto everyone else, but herself. Now she has realised it all. This and one more thing - that made her feel embarrassed like never before. There was no gift for him. She hasn't bought him anything for Christmas, for the time he loved the most in the entire year.

Those were the only thoughts inside her mind while attending the Church service, and after it. She controlled it upon meeting well-wishers with her children but once she returned to her room in the afternoon minutes before watching the first official Christmas speech from King Charles III, she sat down on the bed and cursed "I'm such an idiot. Who cares if I was angry or was completely ignoring him? On no account, I should not have forgotten about a Christmas gift!" . As quick as she could, she had written a text message to Pippa.

"Everyone got their presents from me but not him. You know we were fighting but don't you think I should've put that aside and buy him something? He had done that. I failed. What should I do? Squeak".

George knocked on the door, interrupting her process of writing and overthinking.

"Mum, are you going downstairs? It's time to watch the annual message" he said and approached his mum

"Yes, give me a second" she nodded and fixed her hair a little bit

"You look beautiful, come on" .

Catherine smiled at her 'little man' and together they walked to the living room where all the family members, including her husband, waited. She sat down between her children but still she looked at William from a distance, not sure if he would notice that.

Silence filled the room when Charles's speech broadcast had finished. Everyone was rather speechless and lost in thoughts how many things changed in this family over the last year, especially William though.

/

His wife, under the pretext of going to the bathroom, decided to check her phone, to see if her sister responded to her text message: "A conversation, one to talk things through finally. Other gifts, in your current situation, seem pointless."

Catherine sighed, lots of new doubts covered her mind.

"I cannot. It is too difficult. What if it will only make our situation worse?"

"It is better to try, don't you think?" was her sister's new reply.

"Okay. Thank you. Happy X-mas. C ♡" .

After seeing her sister's advice but knowing the outcome of other conversations with William, the princess of Wales could think of only one possible solution.

/

She came back to the living room as if nothing happened a few minutes later and continued to have fun with her children, and after tucking them in bed, also had discussion with her in-laws about past Christmases at Sandringham of which she was not a part yet. It was past 11 PM when everyone left the living room.

Everyone apart from one person. The Prince of Wales was still sitting on the sofa, staring at an envelope that his wife 'accidentally' put in front of him upon leaving the room.

He didn't know what to expect from it, yet he opened it, and read:

_

"William,

I realise now that we should've talked, and explain many things to one another. Not today, not yesterday but ten days ago. On December 15th. You wanted it. Deep inside, so did I. Yet, I decided to neglect you and make you feel miserable for 10 days straight. Moreover, you did not get a real Christmas gift from me because of that. I would say 'I'm sorry', or many other things, but it is not enough. And it is too late for conversation, at least for me it is late. I came way too far with my 'stubbornness', you must admit. This is why I was afraid that having a conversation would only make things worse. For the first time, I was afraid of a conversation with you, and this is the exact reason why you are reading this letter. You wanted to know what I felt right after 'their' Netflix documentary was released - I was frustrated, hence why I reacted the way I did before the "Together At Christmas'' concert. What were my feelings? Frustration and sadness. I still could not believe that he has changed so much, but mostly I felt heartbroken for you. I could see in your eyes that you were angry. I let my own feelings overshadow yours. A day later - I heard your conversation with your therapist - it had broken my heart into pieces that you feel like you're failing me. You never did that. Believe me. How could you even think that? Let alone telling that to someone? It is strange to know that you think of me as a, (well, we adore this word recently don't we?) stubborn person. I admit - I can be that at times but only if you are overprotective towards me OR if you are avoiding your own feelings, hiding from me even though "we are a team" and this is exactly what you've been doing for the last ten days, William. But I made you do that. It is only my fault and my mistake. Just one mistake of many I made over the last two weeks.I escaped and that only worsened our situation as we were separated even if I have 'forgiven' you, or I wanted to but couldn't do it properly. Together, we can fight against everyone and everything that comes at us, including 'their' comments and all kinds of changes that come with your life. Eleven years ago, I vowed to be by your side through it all, and I meant it. Do not let my frustration / 'stubbornness' lead you into thinking that something in me changed. I will never let those bad things take control of my mind ever again. I will simply support you through everything, as much as I can. I love you, William. Please, remember that you are the most important person in my life. Happy Christmas♡

Catherine .

_

William read this letter two times before putting it back into its envelope and came to his and Catherine's room.

/

She was sitting on the bed, watching one of Christmas movies on the TV & trying not to show signs of anxiety she felt.

Her husband came closer to her and put that envelope in her cold hands

"I forgive you everything. Everything that happened is only my fault and MY stubbornness, not yours. You wrote that your feelings overshadowed mine, but the truth is that we both made too many mistakes within those ten days, but it is enough of that. And your letter, in fact, is enough of an apology for me. You do not need to say anything else now, my wife. For the last 11 years you proved to me that you are ready for everything, you know that it still amazes me though?" He smiled and finally looked into her green, now tearful, eyes.

She wanted to say something but was not able to do that. Her voice was cracking. William pulled her closer, into a warm hug and again kept the envelope with her letter in one hand while holding Catherine's small & cold hand in the other.

"Do not say that you haven't given me any Christmas gift if you've taken time to write this"

"But this is just a piece of paper" Catherine shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to calm down and breathe in her husband's scent.

"You have said exactly the same thing about your sketch of St. Andrews. Yet, I still keep it.

'Meaningful' is what I call everything you write or create, my wife. So this letter you've written is also meaningful, but now it also becomes my Christmas gift of 2022".

"Are you kidding me?" Catherine whispered and smiled a little at last

"No. Tell me something now: did you like your Christmas gift?"

"Yes, I did. But now that we reconciled I want to have something else as a Christmas gift" she smiled through tears.

William stared at her for a second before softly kissing her on the lips. "Is that what you mean as 'something else', my wife?"

"Yes and no" she teased.

He sighed and was about to giggle when his wife pressed her lips on his and said "Happy Christmas, my William" between their kisses.

After a few more kisses, he held her into his arms and was looking deeply into her eyes "I love you. Happy Christmas, my wife".

< THE END > 🎄

Special thanks: @royalknightwalker :)

[omegasmileyface]

The Forest, the Trees, the Fire I: CATALYST

Chapter 4

second chapter in a row to more than double the word count lets goooo. this one is the longest by far! feel free to take a break in the middle. also, it's my personal proudest! :3 Authors: myself, @attackradish, @ectolemonades. Artist: @/crunchysart

For the full characters list, word count, content warning, and a directory to all the currently available chapters and related content, see the Table of Contents!

full summary: The world outside of Amity Park has learned about the existence of ghosts, and the time for first impressions has arrived. The delicate public consciousness could be disrupted by the slightest ripple. Danny Fenton is being ripped apart from all sides, and when he finally breaks, the ripples will be very big indeed.

warnings: mind control/physical forcing, descriptions of pain, intense bad-faith arguing

words: 7587

AO3 link

first chapter

previous chapter

next chapter

===

November 8, 2006

Y'know, so much of Danny's big routine of "daily life" had changed, you'd think the smaller things would change too. But through all the turmoil— in Amity, in the Zone, in his own head— here he still was. Opening his front door after walking home from school, dreading whatever weapons and conversations lay beyond it.

He supposed, if he really cared that much, he could just fly up to his bedroom and hope his parents didn't notice.

And, wow! There they were, in the living room. No avoiding these pleasantries. If he vanished now, they'd just shoot at the open door anyway.

"Hi, guys."

"Hi, Sweetie! Here, come sit down and watch this news story with us."

Ooh, and a fate worse than death too! He'd know.

"Sorry, I've got a lot of make-up work—"

"Oh, some things are more important than homework!" His dad scooted over and patted the place where he had been sitting. Why? Why didn't he just leave the space that was open before? His dad was inscrutable. "I think you're gonna like this."

Danny listened to the little voice in his head that hated him and glanced at the TV.

It was an interview with Director Stewarts from the GIW. He seemed to be explaining the fight to get new passive ectofatal technology approved for public spaces. A man with a well-tailored suit in just the wrong shade of blue to match his eyes sat across a desk from him, nodding along and smiling like they were talking about a new library program.

They thought he'd like this. The thought froze him, his body torn between straight-up pouncing on the TV and shutting down completely. He paused to make sure they were done with the thought. Nothing? No well, we at least thought you'd like updates, sweetie? No well, not this, the documentary about comets that's on next? Not even a brief chuckle from his mom for his dad's blatant obliviousness?

Just silence. Enraptured silence. Pleased silence, even.

Danny took stock of himself before he responded. Held perfectly still until he was sure all his rage was moved out of his tense fists and glowing eyes and back into the little hole inside himself where he usually shoved it. Maneuvered his smile out of "betrayed lover who felt the stab before thinking to be sad about it" and into "obedient church kid". Put those secret identity acting skills to use. He refused to open his mouth before his body was loose and innocent on the outside.

"I thought you guys hated the GIW?"

"Eh," said his dad. Helpful as always.

"They tend to bury everything they do in bureaucracy," elaborated his mom, "and care about the science last, money first. But, intentions be damned, they're working on some incredible new ways to keep the people of this town safe."

"Really," said Stewarts on the TV, "it's a matter of doing what we need to. The current regulations aren't made with that in mind, but we're doing what we can, despite the misunderstanding from lawmakers. Publicizing our new research is a big part of that."

Danny took a breath. "Personally—" ah shit, some of his tightness came across with that one. Loosen up, D-Man. "I don't feel safer knowing that there are people who want to put untested radiation emitters in my school."

His parents turned to look at him. They weren't nearly as good at hiding their anger.

Fuck.

===

"Stop!" There were tears in Danny's eyes. It was all he could do to keep from Wailing. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." He ran into his room like a wild animal before he could hear any complaints. There were no restraints that kept a ghost down quite like social convention.

The argument had been no different from every other argument they'd had on the subject the last few months. Lightning-paced switching between heated discussions of ectology (in which both parties clearly had irreparably different understandings of fundamental facts) and direct war on Danny's track record as a "bad kid". Two "we studied this, honey"s versus one "and you don't even care about graduating high school". Danny wasn't strong enough to pull out the child neglect allegations. At that point, he may as well tell them why he thought of himself as such an expert, about the death trap in their basement, but even this endless conversational circle of unstoppable forces and immovable objects was better than that. He knew he didn't have it in him.

He didn't know, though, why he hadn't thought to just leave before now. Damn this family and their cleverness— none of them knew how to just take their losses and shut the hell up. Even Jazz, when she was here, only ended arguments by shouting her psychiatric advice the loudest.

Maybe Jazz would know what to do. She put up with being the only bearer of emotional responsibility in the household for years, maybe she'd have pointers now that it was his job. He fumbled for his shitty $20 flip phone to call her. 

He must have been more desperate than he thought, because he somehow reached into the phone to summon her number without giving it any thought. He laughed at himself and his core while it rang. Too lazy to scroll through my contacts?

"Hey?"

"Jazz! Hi. Um, how are you?"

"I'm ok, I'm just getting back from dinner. What's up?"

"Oh, well…" see, now he was starting to have second thoughts about bothering her with this. But she could probably hear how upset he was through the phone, so there was no stopping now. "I got in another argument with Mom and Dad."

She exhaled sympathetically. "About ghost stuff again?"

Danny scoffed. "What else would they be willing to talk about for that long?"

Jazz didn't respond. He sighed. "I really just need to cool off for a bit. But do you have any ideas on how I can keep from just getting in the same conversations again and again and just making it worse?"

"Well, you should probably just refuse to talk about it, if you just don't want to waste your time. But if there's any chance they'll listen, it'll be because you let them know that your info comes from a good source. Assuming they agree, that is."

Danny scoffed. "So, what? Tell them I've been hanging out with ghosts and taking their word for things? Yeah, they'll love that."

"No!" Danny could practically hear Jazz roll her eyes. "If you want to get anywhere, you'd have to tell them that you're learning these things firsthand. Let them know about… the accident. You don't even have to tell them about Phantom."

All the passion left Danny. "…I can't do that."

"Danny. You know they won't really hurt you, at least not if you leave the Phantom part out. And the fighting. I know you can be cautious about what you tell them, you're good at—"

"It's not that! I mean, I'm not convinced they wouldn't do something drastic with the way they've been talking lately, but even without that… I mean, imagine having one of your kids away from home, and the other is so disconnected from you and honestly kind of being a fuckup—"

"Danny—"

"—and then you find out that he's been a ghost for two and a half years? And you think that ghosts can't, like… experience emotions or love or anything? That would hurt them so bad. Assuming it doesn't drive them away completely, they would hate me for telling them. Fuck, they could magically end up not caring at all, and I would hate myself for making them hear that. They might suck, Jazz, but I love them."

"I understand that—"

"I don't want to hurt someone I love, Jazz." The tears on Danny's face had dried, but he could feel more behind his eyes.

"I'm really sorry it's like this. …I don't know if this helps or anything, but they're going to get hurt one way or the other."

"I should just be staying out of arguments with them—"

"Look, you asked if there was a way you could keep the same conversations from happening again and again. They're comfortable where they are, and if you want them to stop hurting you and everyone else, they're going to have to stop being comfortable for a little. There's no way everyone can get out of this one unharmed."

Maybe he just wasn't done with all the feelings from earlier, but he really felt like what he was hearing should have been making him sad. He didn't understand why he was just getting angry.

"The pain they're going to feel is just a normal part of living with other people and learning. Maybe they need it."

Danny's breath hitched with a very ugly sound. He felt… offended. Not by his sister, it wasn't by any means her fault, but… by something. Reality. "It's not fair."

"I know. I'm sorry. But, hey, you don't need to listen to me. Just keep it in mind, I guess. Hey, um…"

The phone was silent for a few seconds except for the sound of rustling fabric.

"Sorry, but could you try not to call me unless you really need to for a while? Things are getting sort of stressful here and as much as I like talking to you, I'm a little worried about, like, disrupting my schedule. N-not that you shouldn't call! But, I guess… try to hold off, if it's not a hassle? I'll try to call more often when I have the time. Sorry… Okay?"

Oh.

His calls were disrupting her life.

For a moment, yet another angry thought flew through Danny's head. Did he not deserve to call her? She always wanted to be up in his business at home, and she could still call, but he couldn't? She was the only one who got to decide when they talked?

The thought extinguished itself before he could dwell on it. All he knew was that one more of his outlets, his comforts, his friends was off-limits at the moment.

"Got it. I'll try. Thanks for talking to me."

Danny hung up and went to spend the rest of his night in the Ghost Zone. He didn't go to school the next day.

===

November 13, 2006

"Thank you for the opportunity to meet, Mr. Masters."

"Of course." Vlad set four mugs of coffee— with coasters— at roughly opposing seats of his dining table. He was getting a hang of this "unspoken social code" thing; in business, official meetings happened in the office, and the "personal" meetings where agreements were actually devised happened at restaurants. But in politics, though the official meetings still stuck to the civic buildings, the "personal" meetings were held in the home. In mayorship, at least. Perhaps it was different for higher up positions.

Others may have found the vulnerability of showing their own home to their peers upsetting. Vlad was always happy for a chance to look like he was being open without having to actually do so. The lab stayed sealed off, the offices only held documents that looked important, and even Maddie was taking a nap behind a locked door.

As far as he was aware, pitting three members of an interested party against one politician in their own home was bad form. The Garrison Irving Walker Commission were lucky that he was a match for them, and wouldn't need to speak about this elsewhere.

"We wanted to talk about the measures the city of Amity Park takes to keep its citizens safe in the face of high numbers of ghosts," said the leftmost agent, Robert something.

Vlad nodded because it was nicer than saying oh, really? I had thought you were here to talk about the quality of fishing spots in town.

"I do hope that you've all found the ghost alarm system and robust self-defense supply chain in town satisfactory, as well as our thorough emergency protocols and permit approval rates."

The center agent, David whatever, gave a polite smile. Vlad didn't even have to look behind the sunglasses to see that it didn't reach his eyes. "It's incredibly refreshing to find a place with so many well thought-out plans. But we were curious as to why the town hasn't implemented any new measures in the last few years."

"And," said the agent on the right, Rosalyn what's-her-name, "there is a large opening for preventative and passive anti-ghost measures in the town's infrastructure, especially given the constant return of the Phantom. That's much of what we wanted to talk through, since we have some ideas that can be looked through and altered."

Lovely! Ideas. They spent the next hour talking through the list, during which Vlad had to stay on his toes figuring out what he could and couldn't say was "worth thinking about". A live-updating webpage reporting ghost sightings in the town? Ooh, strong idea, David, he'd have to consider that! A high-frequency ectoenergy emitter that would annoy ghosts into leaving? Great start, Rosalyn, but that might need some more testing before the people in town would agree to it. These people were so dedicated, so convinced that they needed to put as much attention and care into Amity Park as possible, that he considered overshadowing them briefly, just enough to spark a little disinterest in his town. But they had a lot of protective equipment hidden on their persons. It wouldn't be worth the risk.

Not that he couldn't respect seeing an opening and trying to worm into it, it was exactly what he had done when he'd discovered the town, but the damned Guys in White had no idea what iceberg they were scraping against. If they knew, perhaps they'd just leave it to him and go about their days.

They left with a reminder that they'd be talking official proposals in City Hall next week— yes, Robert, I wouldn't forget it for the world— and a confident assertion that Amity Park and the GIW would be of great help to one another.

It was assertions like that that left Vlad wondering if they'd forgotten that he owned Axion Labs, the only current public retailer of ectotechnology. And that he funded practically all of the town's battle repairs. And that he was a significant donor to the GIW.

Little Maddie was impatient enough when he ushered the agents out and unlocked her door. She ran to the couch to bat at a toy she had left under it and ignored Vlad when he pet her.

He sighed. "For people seemingly so concerned with this town, they don't seem to have any respect for what the people in it want." He thought for a moment. "Oh, what do I care? I should be figuring out how to play this when we meet next week. Do you think…"

His thoughts drifted to Daniel like usual. Vlad's plan to become King had been invalidated last winter, when word had spread through the Infinite Realms like ink through water that Danny Phantom had been established as the Crown Prince. The Crown of Fire had disappeared from the safe in his lab without a trace. Though the boy hadn't been actually crowned, even the announcement that he would be was a simple truth, a fact that couldn't be disputed or undermined. At this point, if Vlad wanted the High Throne, he'd either need to defeat Daniel in an official duel, kill Daniel and be chosen as the inheritor, or get Daniel to give it up willingly.

The options were not ideal. Vlad had a reputation in the Zone, yes, but he didn't exactly have friends. Employees, business partners, and people in his debt, yes, but staggeringly few people who liked him. Daniel had been more than holding his own in unexpected fights recently, so Vlad didn't want to test his luck in a duel where the boy had time to prepare. Time to gather the support of all those ghosts who tolerated him better than Vlad. He couldn't ignore the likelihood that he would lose, and then… well, more than likely he wouldn't even be let close to the topic of the Monarchy again. It would be his last chance.

As for option B, Vlad had to put killing Daniel off the table for good. While his ultimate goal was the Throne, he wouldn't like to have to make himself alone again to get there. And if the boy did die in the meantime, Vlad had no illusions that any council that could be assembled would choose him as the replacement. See the, uh, "no friends" thing.

And option C… Daniel didn't like him. This was just something Vlad had to come to terms with. Despite his best efforts, the boy was too stubborn to let himself land on any of their common ground. But…

He looked back to the notes he had taken when the GIW agents were over. There were a lot of things in those notes that would disrupt Vlad's life, but even more that would make Daniel's that much harder. Some of those things would have them both toasted for good, but some would only push a little… if new GIW regulations went through, Daniel would have more stress going about his daily life, more trouble keeping up his relationships, more pressure to do something about it as King… he wouldn't know how to deal with it. He didn't have any experience with politics. But Vlad did. There Vlad would be, trying his absolute best to keep the GIW in check. But, alas, there's only so much he can do without the power of an official political position and the threat of the Infinite Realms behind him…

"Yes," Vlad said to Maddie, who had fallen asleep again. "I think I can work with this after all."

===

November 16, 2006

Danny had been shocked, last year, at how many of his allies were willing to spend time with him to help him prepare for the Crown. People he still regularly fought with had offered advice (though he didn't expect many of them would have anything useful to say, the sentiment was incredible). People he thought hated him had told him to at least ask if he needed help— Walker had handed him a business card with his preferred hours on it. Most surprisingly, actual political leaders had opened their arms readily to help Danny. Dora, Frostbite, Pandora… even Clockwork had been seeing Danny for their odd brand of "lessons" until recently. Sure, he didn't talk to them much about casual things because they all had him hard at work studying to bear responsibility or whatever, but nobody was as shocked as Danny that such a network had opened to him.

Today, since he was already running away from his problems in the living world, Danny had seen if Pandora was up for a chat. They were sitting under a golden tree behind her palace. The meetings had started more formal, but they had both gotten tired of it with time. Danny had been trying to ignore his problems in the living world by reviewing ethical and strategic lessons, but his thoughts drifted back, and here they were.

"…and now they've started moving more of their people to be based in Amity, so they can put even more, quote, 'defenses' into place where the most ghosts are."

"And these defenses haven't been approved for the wider state yet?"

"No. Not Illinois and not America. They're working on that, but it looks like they're trying to set a standard in Amity before they can even get started everywhere else."

"A good observation, Danny! I agree, it sounds as if the GIW are trying to use your city as a proof that their techniques would work on a larger scale. Like some sort of laboratory test."

Danny choked. "So, do… do you really think they're trying to escalate, still?"

"My little poplar, you already know the answer to that. The question is, what are they escalating toward?"

Danny swallowed. "They tried once to destroy the entirety of the Infinite Realms. Looking back, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have worked, but they wanted it so badly. They might still think that's what they need to do. And even if they don't… some of my friends are missing. Wulf and Poindexter. And they keep coming out with new studies on ghosts. The GIW, I mean. I think they're kidnapping ghosts to experiment on them. I don't expect them to stop doing that."

Pandora hummed. "Those are both acts of war. Do you have any plans to respond to acts of war?"

Danny looked away. He really, really didn't want to think about things like that. But this was real, and there was no avoiding it.

Pandora waited for his answer. Eventually, he admitted, "I would like to let them know our perspective first, if there's any chance it would work."

Pandora nodded. "As Haides Polyxenos, you have the power of the Ghost Army behind you, both literally and socially. This creates an actionable threat against any army of humans, which gives you negotiating power. Even non-threats are backed up with the knowledge that, should it come down to sheer military power, you would be the de facto victor."

That was not what Danny meant. He felt that opening with "oh, and by the way, we could destroy you if we wanted, so, like, keep that in mind" was a terrible start for a peace discussion.

"Regardless of that, I respect your devotion to seeing if there is a peaceful option first. The blow to our people would not be insignificant, even with a guaranteed victory."

Danny played with the teal grass.

"…And I know that humanity means a lot to you. Even if they weren't your kin, you would have respect for them as another group that doesn't deserve war."

Danny nodded.

"All that considered, I think your idea to establish your people's perspective before doing anything else was very wise! If you research who you would need to contact and the etiquette behind doing so next time you are among the living, you could come back here and we could work on a script for your meeting them."

He smiled. "That sounds really nice, Pandora, thank you. Do you mind if I invite Frostbite? I think he'll add another good perspective to the mix."

Pandora stood up with a triumphant grin. "That is an excellent idea, Danny! Now, let's get you doing something with your body. Your archery still needs some work."

Danny groaned, but stood up too. Thoughts of his next step were already running through his mind.

===

November 21, 2006

"Mr. Masters, you've had some experience with ectology as a study, yes?"

Vlad had to force the smile when he replied, "yes."

The meeting at City Hall was stuffy, crowded, and— now, you'll want to be sitting down for this shock— boring. He had already fought through dozens of statements regarding technology that would disrupt Vlad's own connections, research projects that would bring humans far too close to true knowledge of ghosts, and legislative moves that took "guilty until proven innocent" to a degree even he balked at. He had made moves that would shift Daniel toward his arms, but not nearly as many as he would have liked. He was far more concerned at the moment with keeping the balance between his image and his safety.

He hadn't even realized that they had drawn up information on his past. Hmm.

"I looked into the field during my time in college. I enjoyed that time, but, eventually… I decided to leave to pursue business management." Close enough, yeah?

"We think you should see the interest behind our favorite project, then…" Rosalyn ("Dr. Ducharm", now) pressed a key on the keyboard wired to the computer at the front of the room. The projected slide on the wall changed to a 3-dimensional model of a square, concrete building with an impressive parking lot. It looked strangely like a larger version of the Axion Labs unit in town, except for a two-story glass dome on the north side of the roof. Painted next to the front entrance was "GIW" in massive white letters and the organization's circular seal.

"We would like to start a new operation in Amity Park, where we can employ ectologists from in and out of town to take advantage of the city's unique relationship with the Ghost Zone. We would have this building constructed as a base, and from there we could employ the talents of dozens of kinds of laboratory and non-laboratory workers, in an organized effort toward a safer future."

Now Vlad was trapped. There was that key word; employ. An operation of this size would spur Amity's construction and infrastructure sectors with something different than the usual repair jobs, and then it would employ STEM specialists from within the city, and then it would draw in dozens or hundreds of workers from the rest of the country, pulling outside money in. The city council would never pass it up. If they propagandized it well enough, the voters wouldn't, either. Vlad would look either malevolent or completely idiotic if he didn't express total interest now.

He let his eyes go flat lest they start showing red, and pulled the rest of his face into a plastic grin. "How exciting! Now there is a future."

Yes, a future where Vlad was watched from all angles by ectosignature-reading cameras.

Oh, well. Construction was an infamously slow process. He would have time.

===

November 28, 2006

…IN SUCH A SITUATION, OF COURSE, YOU WOULD HAVE TO BRING FORWARD ANY GHOST YOU WOULD EXPECT TO HAVE INFORMATION ON THE EVENT. SHOULD THEY WITHHOLD IT, YOU—

Danny's phone chirped. Oh, thank God. There were only a few spots in the Realms where he got a cell connection (do not ask him how that worked), and he would take a late text over the bossy, traditionalist, very-poorly-hiding-their-hatred-for-him Observants any day.

He held up a hand directly in front of the indignant eye of the floating robe closest to him. Hilarious as usual. "One sec, guys."

He tuned out the sound of spectral sputtering as he looked through text previews.

Sam: (11:25) call when u get… Sam: (11:22) if u don't show… Tucker: (11:10) Read pls. Import… (10:54) Sam: what are you up… Tucker: (9:43) Missed you in ch…

So on and so forth for the last couple days. Nothing Danny wanted to see until he was ready to deal with that. He would handle it all at once, cleanly and nicely, when he went back home. There was too much in his brain for now.

He should probably glance at that "important" message before he lost service, though. He trusted Tucker's judgement on whether something was an emergency.

Tucker: (11:10) Read pls. Important. I get youre out for a reason but your parents have asked me where you are. I had to tell them I didnt know. Sorry. Theyll probably start getting serious about looking soon

Oh, crap. His parents had noticed he was gone. Four days must have been too much for them. He didn't know what to tell them he had been up to this time… or what to say next time he disappeared.

Whatever. That was future Danny trouble. He'd deal with that when he went home, and he'd go home after these eyeballs finished up with him.

He put his phone away and stopped tuning them out.

—AND WHATEVER MORTAL IS CONTACTING YOU AT A TIME LIKE THIS CAN WAIT UNTIL—

"Sorry 'bout that. Continue with the whole… 'inappropriate relations' thing?"

The Observants looked like they were each going to pop a giant blood vessel, but they switched tirades without complaint.

===

December 1, 2006

Vlad was in his study, admiring a knitting pattern on his laptop, when Valerie Gray knocked on his window. Quietly, he wondered why she bothered climbing through a window in her suit when she could have just shown up at his door in civilian clothes and saved them both the suspicion, but he let her in anyway.

"Miss Gray! Please, can I get you anything? It's chilly out there."

"Thank you, Mr. Masters! No, I just wanted to stop by."

Internally, Vlad rolled his eyes. "Stopping by" was for afternoons in his office, or emailing him beforehand, or civilian clothes at the very least. Still, Valerie Gray was a smart girl, and had a tendency toward making herself small when she wasn't trying to do the exact opposite. She likely had a real problem, and was just being demure about it.

"Well, sit down! Let's go into the living room. We're the only ones here, so no need to worry about your suit showing or anything." They started moving down the hall. "Speaking of which! How has it been faring? Anything new recently?" He had, as "the Wisconsin Ghost", tussled lightly with her for appearance's sake a few weeks back, and he saw that her suit was acting oddly up close. He had already done his own studies on it and determined that it was somehow sentient, or something to that effect, and much more ghostly than he had originally designed it. Lasting effects, he supposed, of a time that she got tied up with Technus two years ago. She still hadn't told him about it. Bold.

Regardless, he wasn't too worried. Let the girl become more ghostly. As long as she was putting that isolative pressure on Daniel, as long as she was giving Vlad that in on the human ghost hunting world, what did he care? But she really should be telling her innocent, human benefactor about these things. Imagine if he really did have her best interests in mind? She was as reckless as usual.

"Nope! Working just perfectly! I hope I've been doing my job well enough."

Vlad poured some coffee for both of them— he hadn't been lying about the cold night. "You absolutely have. You are, perhaps, the town's best defense against ghostly attacks."

When he handed Valerie her mug, she casually set it down without taking a drink. He admired her caution.

"Thank you! Seriously. But, Mr. Masters, that's sort of what I wanted to talk about. I've been trying to keep up on changes the Guys— sorry— the GIW have been trying to make here in Amity and Elmerton. I really like how they're trying to keep us stronger in the face of violent ghost attacks. But some of the things they want to try out here kinda make me think they're looking at us like a… like an experiment, more than people. People with lives, who are hurt by ghosts, yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't be hurt by other things, you know?"

Ah. Vlad took a sip of his coffee. She wanted to put her word into this game, too? Figured she could get a little opinion in because she had business relations with the mayor? To Vlad, it was yet another force wanting him pulled a certain way. Luckily, he didn't need Valerie Gray's approval, not like he needed the trust of the GIW and Daniel. It was good to have her trusting him, yes, but she was low on his list of priorities. He let her keep talking.

"I just wanted to say, I know you're doing all you can to work with them for the best for the people in town. And… I trust you to make sure that they're not putting ghost defense above respecting the humans. I think you're a good mayor, Mr. Masters. Thank you for what you're doing."

Vlad was shocked. He was glad Valerie wasn't looking at him, because he couldn't keep it off his face for a second. She was sixteen and openly armed with the best in human-ghost weaponry, but she looked absolutely tiny, hunched over and entrusting him with keeping her and the people she loved safe.

Normally, Vlad liked to see people so vulnerable to him, but there was something off-putting about his strongest pawn, this teenager so full of rage and determination that it took only the slightest push to turn her into a living declaration of war, being so honest about her weakness. If there was anyone Vlad expected to be blinded into following the GIW from sheer hatred of ghosts, besides perhaps the Fentons, it would be her.

The look on her face was one he had seen on Danielle a few times before she had disappeared, when she thought he loved her. It wasn't begging. No, Valerie Gray expected him to pull through on these anti-ghost regulations for her, just because she thought he was a good enough person. She was thanking him for something he hadn't done yet.

She trusted him to handle this with grace. And he realized now, with the Red Huntress depowered and sitting on his formal living room couch, that he didn't.

===

December 4, 2006

People had been coming up to Danny when he was around the Ghost Zone. Really, he should have been expecting it, but he was sort of taken aback every time. Your average ghost knew that he was the Prince, and even before that he had enough of a reputation that sometimes they would approach him to ask for help on whatever superhero comic plot had come into their lives recently, but… really, shouldn't there be other options? Walker couldn't have been the only one upholding "laws". Johnny wasn't the only one going on adventures in the living world when necessary. There were other ghosts who handled this sort of thing. Why seek out some half-human two-year-old?

Especially when he couldn't even do what they wanted. At least thirteen ghosts had approached him in the past few weeks to report friends and fright members that had gone to the living realm for one reason or another and never come back. Captured by the Guys in White, shoved in some lab, and… who knows what, after that.

He had tried a few times. Logically, he should have a pretty good shot at getting in and out. Yes, they were looking for his ectosignature in particular, but he was human. He was skilled at hiding it. And he had links in the human world, ways to hide in plain sight, and a hacker friend for whom he was eternally grateful.

The first time, he had gotten the poor ghost out intact. The second time, he even got some hapless animal ghosts and blobs out too. After that, things got harder. Security got tighter, bases got put in stranger places, employees became even more ruthless at the sight of Phantom.

It hurt Danny inside every time he thought about it, but there just wasn't anything he could think to do without getting himself killed, and that wouldn't help anyone in the long run. The experimentation was legal, even on the more humanoid ghosts as far as Danny could tell. He couldn't physically attack the facilities if he wasn't sure nobody would die, and even then the newer defenses had a nasty effect of sometimes turning his own energy around on him.

And now, as he found himself surrounded by the desperate children and friends of a wolf-woman ghost who had been taken away while visiting relatives in the living world, that was what he tried to tell them. But he felt sorry at his own excuses, and he wanted more than anything to be able to do better for the people relying on him, and he saw in their eyes that they did, too, and Danny felt something in the air that said that everyone else did, too, and then—

He blacked out.

===

When Danny woke, he was sitting on a marble chair in a room where the floor was black tile and the walls glowed blue. Anything beyond that was blurry. Right in front of his face was familiar blue and red, and for a moment he worried that he had passed out in front of Plasmius before he noticed the scar.

He just had time to realize this was his first time seeing Clockwork since summer before his head was filled with pain.

It was terrible, and bone-deep, and from his mind as much as his flesh, but it did something to wake him up, too. Danny could see now that the far end of the long room held several ghosts, most of whom he had been studying under. He could see that the glowing on the walls was from tall stained glass windows in every color between ectoplasm green and ocean blue.

He could see that his marble chair was on a dais, and that Clockwork was looking at him with pity. It was an unfamiliar look on them.

Oh, Danny thought as the important people and the important room sunk in between throbs of pain. I am absolutely screwed.

Clockwork squeezed Danny's shoulder. The pain didn't go away, which he thought was incredibly rude since he knew they had some healing power. They turned around and said to the room, Daniel Phantom is here, and he will be King.

Fuck. Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. This was the coronation, and it wasn't supposed to be like this. He knew it was pretty different from European coronations, but there was supposed to be some kind of party involved, at least. Some kind of tedious ceremony, and it would be stressful and awfully final but it would be happy for a bit. There would be weeks of preparation and months of warning and everyone had told him it wouldn't happen until he was ready.

But here Danny was, on a throne in his own damn color scheme that Fate and Sam had chosen for him, alone except for a few ghosts who were very much not having a good time, in more pain than he'd felt at once since he died, and perhaps the least ready it was possible to be. He was a sixteen year old who was failing every class and avoided talking to his own parents.

He didn't want to see any of this. He tried to close his eyes, but the pain echoed somewhere in the back of his head and the back of his core and his eyes opened and his vision cleared. He couldn't move his eyes or his thoughts away when Pandora walked to the spot Clockwork had left. She opened a lapis lazuli box, and inside was the Ring of Rage, smaller than ever on its own in there. The last time Danny had seen the Ring, it had been locked in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.

She put it on the middle finger of his left hand, and he knew that if his unfading Lichtenberg figures were visible, they would start right where the ring sat. It shrunk and simplified. A band of white, a band of black, a pointed gem of the same blues and greens as the windows.

The pain spread below Danny's neck, to the rest of his body. Whatever kept his eyes clear kept him from doubling over and screaming, too. He didn't have it in him to fight.

Pandora stepped back, and Frostbite walked forward with the Crown of Fire. He didn't place it on Danny's head, he just set it in his hands and wiped a tear off of Danny's cheek.

It was Clockwork who came forward again and lifted the Crown onto his head. It electrified his skin where it touched. Hadn't Pariah Dark's crown floated? Why was Danny's sitting on him, feeling like it was about to topple but refusing to fall, burning a halo onto his scalp?

Why was any of this happening?

Danny was distracted from the pain when that place in the back of his core struck a chord like a symphonic bell and first the Crown, then the Ring, then everything else oh God every drop of ectoplasm in the deep ocean around him every space hidden between every other space the entire seam between this place and the other resonated with it. One massive echo, one frequency carried to infinity in an instant, and that which was within was without, just the same.

May his reign be perfect, said Clockwork from out of sight.

Danny was on the floor. Son of a bitch! The pain ran through him one more time with emphasis before disappearing.

Some of the attendees— Observants, mostly— left without another word. Some, those Danny had started thinking of sort of like family recently, came and tried to help him stand.

It was a struggle to get to his feet, but once he was there, he couldn't help but notice that Clockwork was gone.

"Alright, Danny," Frostbite said. Heh, that might have been the first time he'd used his real name. "Let's get you some sleep, and then we can have a chat about your new powers before you go home."

Danny made himself smile from where he was collapsed over the yeti's arm. "Do I get cake now?"

"Sure," said Frostbite, comforting as any good doctor. "You can have all the cake you want."

Danny laughed weakly. "Some party this was."

(And when word hit them that a small team of yetis had shown up at a grocery store in Amity Park to buy a premade cake with real money, Sam and Tucker decided to keep it to themselves.)

===

December 11, 2006

"No," Vlad hissed when he read the paper Dr. Robert Eldridge handed him across his dining room table.

"What's the issue? I'm happy with the progress we've been making here, and this is the only logical next step."

"It's too invasive. People will never trust a group that measures their ectoplasmic exposure every time they go out in public."

"Their daily lives won't be disrupted because it's passive once installed. Not intrusive at all," said Dr. David Reyes, who had a hidden camera in one of his shirt buttons.

"It doesn't matter, the knowledge that they're having statistics about them being read out to some other body at all times will be too much. H— people hate that sort of thing."

"It's all about awareness," said Dr. Rosalyn Duchart, who had never been in an ecto lab environment in her life. "Most people will be okay with their ectoplasmic levels being measured, because they'll be low anyway. Nothing to hide. It'll only upset those who would be spotted. Disguised ghosts, long-term overshadowings, hauntings and whatnot."

"I'm not so sure about that." Vlad's hand tightened around his mug. "People don't take so kindly to the idea that they might be hiding something. I've certainly never enjoyed being watched."

Maybe, if he had paid a little more attention, he would have found he didn't enjoy the way he was being watched in that moment either.

===

Voicemail from… (708) 112-4816 on… December 13 at… 4:19 PM. [Beep!]

Hey, Danny. It's Val. Um… I haven't seen you in a few weeks. Well, okay, I've seen you around town and at Nasty Burger once in a while, but we haven't talked. You know what I mean. Haha. So, I guess, if you're not at school, and you're not with your friends— uh, I asked them, sorry— where are you?

…You don't have to tell me, of course. It's probably none of my business. Unless it is, haha! Um. But yeah! I guess I just wanted to let you know that… I'm thinking about you! And I hope you're okay! And if there's anything you want to talk about with me, you can. I, uh, I even have homework you can copy if you want to get back on track with missed school.

Hey, call me sometime! I haven't had a chance to tell you about this dumb movie my dad and I watched last week. It was this 3-D animated Christmas movie? Yeah, it's as weird as it sounds, hehe. But that's all I'm telling you now! If you want the rest of the details you're gonna have to crawl out and talk to me.

Have a good day, okay? 'Kay. 

…End of message.

===

December 15, 2006

[A1 - BREAKING NEWS]

LANCE: GOOD EVENING EVERYONE.

I’M LANCE THUNDER –

TIFFANY: – AND I��M TIFFANY SNOW.

THIS IS AMITY PARK 8 AT 5.

TONIGHT’S BREAKING NEWS, A LEAKED GARRISON IRVING WALKER COMMISSION RESEARCH PAPER ALLEGES MAYOR VLAD MASTERS IS ACTUALLY A GHOST.

[VO]

[B-ROLL: STILL OF COVER PAGE]

LANCE: PAMELA DEH-LEE-UN, AARON HAMPTON AND DAVID RYE-EZ, LONG-TIME RESEARCHERS WITH THE GIW, WROTE THE PAPER.

TIFFANY: HAMPTON DEVELOPED SUSPICIONS ABOUT MASTERS SHORTLY AFTER THE GIW BEGAN WORKING WITH HIM ON PUBLIC ANTI-GHOST MEASURES.

THE TEAM STANDS BY THE RESEARCH, THOUGH THE PAPER WAS UNFINISHED AND STILL IN REVIEW AT THE TIME OF THE LEAK.

[A-ROLL: HAMPTON INTERVIEW]

LANCE: THE SOURCE OF THE LEAK HAS NOT BEEN CONFIRMED, BUT THE GIW’S MAIN CONCERN IS THE PUBLIC SEEING THE PAPER BEFORE PEER REVIEW.

WE CURRENTLY HAVE NO COMMENT FROM MASTERS OR CITY COUNCIL, BUT A PRESS CONFERENCE WILL BE HELD AT SIX-THIRTY PM.

TIFFANY: JOIN US AT TEN PM ON THE EVENING SHOW FOR EXCLUSIVE COVERAGE OF THE PRESS CONFERENCE AND A MORE IN-DEPTH LOOK AT THE RESEARCH PAPER.

UP NEXT, WE’LL HEAR FROM RESIDENTS ON A STRING OF BREAK-INS DOWNTOWN.